BRILLIANT PROSPECTS.

"It is a shame, Hudson," said Church, "that your daughter should be lost in these dull apartments. I tell you, sir, she is worthy of a palace."

"Yes; but how is the palace to be found?" said Constance, laughing. "You mustn't? abuse this parlor, sir; it seemed like paradise when we came into it from the other place—didn't it, father?"

"Unfortunately," said Hudson, "I have never been able to do more than this for my child or myself. If I have kept her from absolute toil, up to this time it has been at a sacrifice, which she was never permitted to understand. It was all I could do for the poor, motherless creature."

There was genuine feeling in the man's voice, that brought tears to his daughter's eyes.

"Oh! fortune does not frown forever," said Church; "and the daughter's luck may swallow up the father's misfortunes. The wheel is always turning, remember that!"

"Father is always gloomy and looking on the dark side of everything," said Constance, with a dash of petulance in her voice. "Why shouldn't we prove fortunate as well as other people?"

"Why, indeed?" answered Church. "In these times chances are constantly coming up for any one who has the talent and nerve to seize them."

"I wish one would come uppermost for me," laughed Constance. "Wouldn't I find the nerve to grasp it! Oh! how I do long to sit in one of those private boxes, with silks that rustle like silks, laying in waves around my feet, with ermine on my shoulders, and diamonds in my ears. Wouldn't I show them what a live girl could do; but that will never, never be!"

"Why not? Why not?" said Church, eagerly, for he was delighted with this spirit.

"Because he—because it never can!"

"Not if your father becomes rich?"

Constance brightened out of her momentary despondency, and her eyes flashed like sapphires.

"Oh, yes! Then—then!"

"And would you help him?"

"Help him? Yes, if he asked me to black my face and sweep the streets with a splint broom."

"But suppose he asked something more difficult, but every way pleasanter?"

"Why, of course, I would do it."

"Would you work very, very diligently at the art you are now learning?"

"Wouldn't I?"

"And make that young fellow, your teacher, very much in love with you?"

Constance blushed scarlet at this; then she laughed and asked if Mr. Church thought that would be difficult.

"But then you must not fall very much in love with him."

Again Constance felt a flood of scarlet rushing over her neck and face; Church saw it, and hastened to say,

"Because, the woman who loves is always a slave."

"Is she?" said Constance, in a low voice, as if questioning herself.

"When ambition merges itself in love, it loses all its power; when love aids ambition, it is invincible."

"I—I don't know about these things, sir," said Constance, seriously. "How should I? These rooms are my world."

"But they will not be so always, rest sure of that!" answered the crafty man. "All that your father wants to lift you above the women you think so happy, is money, or a good opportunity to make it. Money goes a great way toward making women happy in these days, let me tell you. Fortunes are now made in a day by men with half his ability. I like your father; he is an old friend of mine, and I mean to give him this chance."

"You will, sir! You will!"

Constance seized the half closed hand which Church rested on the table and pressed her lips upon it. Her father started from his seat, and a slow, hot color came into the other man's face.

"What an impulsive child it is," he said, gently, disengaging his hand. "This will never do, pretty Constance—so much feeling will be troublesome in the new life some good fortune may open for you."

Constance shook the hair back from her face, and answered laughing,

"Oh! it was only the surprise. Father knows I am not given to much feeling! Now tell me what I am expected to do. I'm ready."

Church leaned over the table, and spoke to Hudson rather than his daughter, for the old man was restless, and still walking up and down the floor.

"She is ready to exert herself in any way for you. Surely with such a child you cannot be hopeless."

Hudson turned suddenly and addressed his daughter:

"It is late, and you must get up early, Constance, besides, I and my—our guest, want a little time by ourselves."

Constance flushed angrily, and hesitated to obey the suggestion that she should withdraw. Church laughingly interposed.

"Come, come, Hudson," he said. "We have nothing to talk about that she may not hear. Take another glass of wine, and be sociable; I want Miss Constance to show me some of her work."

"I have already done that," answered Hudson, impatiently.

"What was it—what did you show him, papa?" questioned the girl, eagerly.

"Oh," said Church, "it was a pretty group of children."

"That!" exclaimed Constance, with the utmost disdain, "I wonder at you, father. It was enough to disgust him with me forever. Wait a minute."

Before Hudson could step between her and the closet, which he attempted to do, Constance had flung the door open, and came forward with a plate in her hand.

"I wonder you did not think of this," she said, looking reproachfully at her father. "It was real cruel of you."

"I think so, too; this is really wonderful!" said Church, examining the plate. "How long has she been about it?"

"Only about a year, under Mr. Sterling's tuition," said Constance, delighted with his ardent admiration, "but ever so long in an uncertain way. In fact, ever since I was a little girl I used to dabble, now and then, in these things. Father helped me along, but it was not till lately that I thought of making it available as a profession. But I have some proofs in the closet, come and look at them please."

Constance went to a closet near the fire-place, and took out some proofs on filmy paper, and another plate which seemed about half finished.

The man to whom these were submitted, examined both the proofs and the plate with searching attention. He seemed greatly struck with them, and his face kindled with surprise.

"Have you done all this alone?"

"Yes, quite alone. I would not allow him to touch them."

Church took the proofs in his hand, and went up to Hudson, who stood pale as death, regarding these proceedings.

"Hudson, you are right; the girl has a love for it. Upon my soul, I think she can learn anything she sets her heart on."

"Yes," said Hudson, sadly. "She has talent enough to be a blessing or a curse."

"A curse, father? I never heard you talk in that way before, and I have been so anxious to learn, that we might be a little more like folks. I am tired of this life. Poverty does not suit me, I can tell you, Mr. Church."

Church looked around the dim room, and laughed lightly.

"You need not make what you call poverty so horribly dismal, at any rate," he said, looking at Hudson. "I do not see why a certain degree of elegance might not be entered upon, if it were only to please the girl. There is something I don't like in a pretty creature like her going to and fro in a neighborhood like this. It has a bad look. Now, as an old friend, suppose you accept a little money from me. It will not be long before my young lady here, will be able to pay me back. What do you say to it, Miss Constance?"

"I don't think he, that is father, would let me," said the girl, casting a wistful look on Hudson, who stood in the middle of the room, gazing in a sad, despairing way on her.

"No, no, we do not need anything. This room is comfortable enough."

"But your daughter needs a great deal. Hudson, all this is well enough for you, but remember a young lady requires something more than mere necessaries."

Hudson turned his gloomy, almost despairing eyes on his child.

"Constance, Constance, you will not ask for these things. Do not, do not, the price will be terrible."

"I thought that in time I could earn money, and pay everything back, and there is so much that I want," pleaded the girl.

"But why, why—you were contented as we are, this morning."

"Because I had no hope. If your good, kind friend had asked me what I most wanted then, it would have been all the same."

Hudson turned away with a groan. How could the girl feel for him, not knowing of the iron shackles that made that man his master. Church went close to him and whispered:

"Come with me into the hall."

Hudson obeyed like a child, and went through the door with his head bent and his hands clasped, like a criminal going to trial.