"On what ground?"

"Simply because I had a comfortable income. Her head is full of
romantic notions, and she dreams of nothing but love in a cottage. She
contends that poverty is essential to happiness--and money its bane."

"Have you given up all hopes of her?"

"Entirely; in fact, I'm engaged."

"Then you have no objections to my addressing this dear, romantic
angel?"

"None whatever. But I see my _fiancée_--excuse me--I must walk through
the next quadrille with her."

Frank Belmont was a stranger in Boston--a New Yorker--immensely rich
and fashionable, but his reputation had not preceded him, and Charley
Hastings was the only man who knew him in New England. He procured an
introduction to the beauty from one of the managers, and soon danced
and talked himself into her good graces. In fact, it was a clear case
of love at first sight on both sides.

The enamoured pair were sitting apart, enjoying a most delightful
_tête-à-tête_. Suddenly Belmont heaved a deep sigh.

"Why do you sigh, Mr. Belmont?" asked the fair Julia, somewhat pleased
with this proof of sensibility. "Is not this a gay scene?"