ly had riches placed in their hands.

Yes, wealth was indeed no slight peril to the soul. It was only
yesterday that her husband had tempted her with such a delightful
little man-servant--a perfect English groom. But she had resisted the
temptation; and answered: "No, Warden, it would not be right; I will
not have a footman on the box. I dare say we can afford it; but let us
beware of overweening luxury. I assure you I don't require help to get
into the carriage and out of it; I won't even let the coachman get down
on my account."

It did her good to think of this now, and her eyes rested complacently
on the empty seat on the box, beside the immovable one.

Mrs. Abel, who was busy clearing away _Bazars_ and scraps of stuff from
the big table, was astonished to see her friend return so soon.

"Why, Emily! Back again already? I've just been telling the dress-maker
that she can go. What you were saying to me has quite put me out of
conceit of my new frock; I can quite well get on without one--" said
good-natured Mrs. Abel; but her lips trembled a little as she spoke.

"Every one must act according to his own conscience," answered Mrs.
Warden, quietly, "but I think it's possible to be too scrupulous."

Mrs. Abel looked up; she had not expected this.

"Just let me tell you what I've gone through," said Mrs. Warden, and
began her story.

She sketched her first impression of the stuffy room and the wretched
people; then she spoke of the theft of her purse.

"My husband always declares that people of that kind can't refrain from
stealing," said Mrs. Abel.

"I'm afraid your husband is nearer the truth than we thought," replied
Mrs. Warden.

Then she told about the inspector, and the ingratitude these people had
displayed towards the man who cared for them day by day.

But when she came to what she had heard of the poor woman's past life,
and still more when she told about the young girl, Mrs. Abel was so
overcome that she had to ask the servant to bring some port-wine.

When the girl brought in the tray with the decanter, Mrs. Abel whispered
to her: "Tell the dressmaker to wait."

"And then, can you conceive it," Mrs. Warden continued--"I scarcely know
how to tell you"--and she whispered.

"What do you say! In one bed! All! Why, it's revolting!" cried Mrs.
Abel, clasping her hands.

"Yes, an hour ago I; too, could not have believed it possible," answered
Mrs. Warden, "But when you've been on the spot yourself,