"What I have to say can be told in a few words. I would, perhaps, do better to leave it unsaid; but I wish to repair, with what honor I can, a course, which in itself has not, perhaps, been strictly honorable. Do you know, sir, that I love your daughter?" Mr. Delancey stared at the head clerk for a moment, like a man suddenly struck dumb; then every trace of color vanished from his face. "_My_ daughter, sir! You surely don't mean Della!" "Have you, then, another daughter? I mean none other than Miss Della; and I this night come to ask your consent to our union. We have loved long and sincerely, and--" "How dare you utter such words as these to me? You dare to tell me, that a child of mine has stooped to notice her father's clerk?" "Aye! not only has one stooped to _love_ a clerk, but has not the other wedded a clerk's daughter? Mr. Delancey, I come to you as man to man; put away the difference of your wealth, and I am as high as yourself; as much a man, as high in station, and more honorable than yourself. Thus I dare to seek your daughter's hand; and crave her father's blessing." "Have a care, sir, of what you say--_more honorable_? you dare to tell me that?" "You know it to be the truth." The merchant turned slightly pale. "Mr. Wilkins, you put such a proposition as this you have suggested, merely for--merely to try me; you surely do not, cannot mean it?" "I mean it all, sir. I am not given to trifling on such matters, and I have come to you like an honest man to ask your child's hand, and gain consent or refusal." "And Della loves you?" "If I may believe her words, she does; and I have her sanction to tell this to you." Mr. Delancey started to his feet. "And how have you dared, sir, to steal into my child's heart, and rob me of her affections? how have you dared to come like a thief in the night, and steal that heart away? I had never a suspicion of this--never thought of it. Brute that you are, thus to abuse my confidence!" "Beware of what you say, sir. I have abused no confidence. Had you ever made me a guest at your house, ever treated me as if I had been human, like yourself, this might never have been. At least I would have wooed like an honest man, and your influence with your child might have nipped it in the bud. You must put up with the consequences of your own folly." "Where have you ever met my daughter?" "Never in this house, as you well know. Abroad, riding, walking, in spite of duennas and guardians, I have wooed, and won her to myself." "She must then have deceived you. I am certain she is the betrothed of General Delville, who this moment converses with her in the parlor." "You, sir, may be the one deceived. Della would not leave you without giving you a knowledge of her love. She bade me come to you, to ask her of you openly, and to tell you all."