'Twas a pity, and he so true.

The next day Edith was sick and Mr. Allen's stock was rising. Hannibal
again sent Mr. Fox baffled away, but with a dangerous gleam in his
eyes.

On the following morning Mr. Allen found a note on his desk. His face
grew livid as he read it, and he often put his hand to his head. He
sat down and wrote to this effect, however:

"I am arranging the partnership matter as rapidly as possible. In
regard to my daughter you will ruin all if you show no more
discretion. I cannot compel her to marry you. You may make it
impossible to influence her in your favor. You have been well
received. What more can you ask? A matter of this kind must be
arranged delicately."

Mr. Fox pondered over this with a peculiarly foxy expression. "It
sounds plausible. If I only thought he was true," soliloquized this
embodiment of truth.

Mr. Allen's stock was higher, and Mr. Fox watched the rise grimly, but
he saw Edith, who was all smiles and graciousness, and gave him a
verbal invitation to her birthday-party which was to take place early
in the following week.

The fellow had not a little vanity, and was insnared, his suspicions
quieted for the time. Valuing money himself supremely, it seemed most
rational that father and daughter should regard him as the most