ard
ear.

"There is truth in her face," said Compassion, pleading, and, at the
same time, she unveiled an image, sharply cut in the past of Markland's
life--an image of his own beloved, but long sainted mother, pale and
wasted, on her dying bed.

"Give this to your mother," he said, hastily, taking a coin from his
pocket. There was more of human kindness in his voice than it had
expressed for many years.

"God bless you, sir," the child dropped her grateful eyes from his
face, as she took the coin, bending with an involuntary reverent
motion. Then, as she slowly passed to the warehouse door, she turned
two or three times, to look on the man who, alone, of the many to whom
she had made solicitation that day, had answered her in kindness.

"So much for the encouragement of vagrancy," said Suspicion.

"Played on by the art of a cunning child," said Pride.

Markland began to feel ashamed of his momentary weakness. But, he was
not now, wholly, at the mercy of the guests who had so long tormented
him. Compassion, Good-will and Kindness were now his guests also; and
they had other and pleasanter suggestions for his mind. The child's
"God bless you, sir," they repeated over and over again, softening the
young voice, and giving it increasing power to awaken tender and loving
states which had formed themselves in earlier and purer years.
Tranquility, so long absent from his soul, came in, now, through the
entrance made by Compassion.

Markland went back into his counting-room, almost wondering at the
peace he felt. Taking up a newspaper, he read of a rare specimen of
statuary just received from Italy, the property of a well-known
merchant. Envy did not move quickly enough. The old love of beauty and
nature, which envy, detraction, greed of gain, and their blear-eyed
companions, had kept in thrall, was already in a freer state; and found
in good-will, kindness and tranquility, congenial friends.

So, love of art and beauty ruled his mind in spite of envy, and
Markland found real pleasure in the ideal given him by the description
he read. It was, almost, a new sensation.

A friend came in, and spoke in praise of one who had performed a
generous deed. There was an instant motion among the guests in
Markland's heart, the evil inciting to envy and detraction, the good to
approval and emulation. Tranquility moved to the door through which she
had come in, as if to depart; but Good-will, Kindness and Approbation,
drew her ba