opened;
and an old mean-looking woman asked him what he wanted.

"I want to see the masther, ma'am, av it's plazing to ye!" said Owen,
leaning against the door-jamb as he spoke.

"The master? What do you mean?"

"Mr. Leslie himself, the landlord."

"Mr. Leslie is abroad--in Italy."

"Abroad! abroad!" echoed Owen, while a sickly faint-ness spread itself
through his frame. "He's not out of England, is he?"

"I've told you he's in Italy, my good man."

"Erra! where's that at all?" cried Owen, despairingly.

"I'm sure I don't know; but I can give you the address, if you want it."

"No, thank ye, ma'am--it's too late for that, now," said he. The old
woman closed the door, and the poor fellow sat down upon the steps,
overcome by this sad and unlooked-for result.

It was evening. The streets were crowded with people,--some on foot,
some on horseback and in carriages. The glare of splendid equipages,
the glittering of wealth--the great human tide rolled past, unnoticed by
Owen, for his own sorrows filled his whole heart.

Men in all their worldliness,--some, on errands of pleasure, some,
care-worn and thoughtful, some, brimful of expectation, and others,
downcast and dejected, moved past: scarcely one remarked that poor
peasant, whose travelled and tired look, equally with his humble dress,
bespoke one who came from afar.

"Well, God help me, what's best for me to do now?" said Owen Connor, as
he sat ruminating on his fortune; and, unable to find any answer to his
own question, he arose and walked slowly along, not knowing nor caring
whither.

There is no such desolation as that of a large and crowded city to him,
who, friendless and alone, finds himself a wanderer within its walls.
The man of education and taste looks around him for objects of interest
or amusement, yet saddened by the thought that he is cut off from all
intercourse with his fellow-men; but, to the poor unlettered stranger,
how doubly depressing are all these things! Far from speculating on the
wealth and prosperity around him, he feels crushed and humiliated in its
presence. His own humble condition appears even more lowly in contrast
with such evidences of splendour; and instinctively he retreats from the
regions where fashion, and rank, and riches abound, to the gloomy abodes
of less-favoured fortunes.

When Owen awoke the following morning, and looked about him in the
humble lodging he had selected, he could scarcely believe that already