poverty
among us. What will they do?"

"They'll have to go to the poor-house, won't they?"

"To the poor-house!" repeated Mrs. Lincoln, who spent her winters in
Boston, and whose summer residence was in the neighborhood of the
pauper's home, "pray don't send any more low, vicious children to the
poor-house. My Jenny has a perfect passion for them, and it is with
difficulty I can keep her away."

"They are English, I believe," continued Mrs. Campbell. "I do wonder
why so many of those horridly miserable creatures will come to this
country."

"Forgets, mebby, that she's English," muttered the woman at the door;
and Mrs. Johnson added, "It would draw tears from your eyes, to see
that little pale-faced Mary trying to wait upon her mother and
brother, and carrying that sickly baby in her arms so that it may not
disturb them."

"What does Ella do?" asked one, and Mrs. Johnson replied, "She merely
fixes her curls in the broken looking-glass, and cries because she is
hungry."

"She is pretty, I believe?" said Mrs. Campbell, and Rosa Pond, who sat
by the window, and had not spoken before, immediately answered, "Oh,
yes, she is perfectly beautiful; and do you know, Mrs. Campbell, that
when she is dressed clean and nice, I think she looks almost exactly
like your little Ella!"

A haughty frown was Mrs. Campbell's only answer, and Rosa did not
venture another remark, although several whispered to her that they,
too, had frequently observed the strong resemblance between Ella
Howard and Ella Campbell.

From what has been said, the reader will readily understand that the
sick woman in whom Mrs. Johnson was so much interested, was our old
acquaintance Mrs. Howard.

All inquiries for her sisters had been fruitless, and after stopping
for a time in Worcester, they had removed to Chicopee, where recently
Mr. Howard had died. Their only source of maintenance was thus cut
off, and now they were reduced to the utmost poverty. Since we last
saw them a sickly baby had been added to their number. With motherly
care little Mary each day washed and dressed it, and then hour after
hour carried it in her arms, trying to still its feeble moans, which
fell so sadly on the ear of her invalid mother.

It was a small, low building which they inhabited, containing but one
room and a bedroom, which last they had ceased to occupy, for one by
one each article of furniture had been sold, until at last Mrs. Howard
lay upon a rude lounge, whic