The morning of the day passed, and Smith began to grow uneasy.  He did not venture to seek for information as to the doings of the council, for that would be to expose the anxiety he felt in the result of their deliberations.  Slowly the afternoon wore away, and it so happened that Smith did not meet any one of the councilmen; nor did he even know whether the council was still in session or not.  As to making allusion to the subject of his anxious interest to any one, that was carefully avoided; for he knew that his exorbitant demand was the town talk—­and he wished to affect the most perfect indifference on the subject.

The day closed, and not a whisper about the town lot had come to the ears of Mr. Smith.  What could it mean?  Had his offer to sell at six thousand been rejected?  The very thought caused his heart to grow heavy in his bosom.  Six, seven, eight o’clock came, and still it was all dark with Mr. Smith.  He could bear the suspense no longer, and so determined to call upon his neighbour Wilson, who was a member of the council, and learn from him what had been done.

So he called on Mr. Wilson.

“Ah, friend Smith,” said the latter; “how are you this evening?”

“Well, I thank you,” returned Smith, feeling a certain oppression of the chest.  “How are you?”

“Oh, very well.”

Here there was a pause.  After which Smith said, “About that ground of mine.  What did you do?”

“Nothing,” replied Wilson, coldly.

“Nothing, did you say?” Smith’s voice was a little husky.

“No.  You declined our offer; or, rather, the high price fixed by yourself upon the land.”

“You refused to buy it at five thousand, when it was offered,” said Smith.

“I know we did, because your demand was exorbitant.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” returned Smith quickly.

“In that we only differ,” said Wilson.  “However, the council has decided not to pay you the price you ask.”

“Unanimously?”

“There was not a dissenting voice.”

Smith began to feel more and more uncomfortable.

“I might take something less,” he ventured to say, in a low, hesitating voice.

“It is too late now,” was Mr. Wilson’s prompt reply.

“Too late!  How so?”

“We have procured a lot.”

“Mr. Wilson!” Poor Smith started to his feet in chagrin and astonishment.

“Yes; we have taken one of Jones’s lots on the west side of the city.  A beautiful ten acre lot.”

“You have!” Smith was actually pale.

“We have; and the title deeds are now being made out.”

It was some time before Smith had sufficiently recovered from the stunning effect of this unlooked-for intelligence, to make the inquiry,

“And pray how much did Jones ask for his ten acre lot.”

“He presented it to the city as a gift,” replied the councilman.