resumed. "Will you hear the
story of Magdalen--in modern times?"

Grace drew back a step; Mercy instantly understood her.

"I am going to tell you nothing that you need shrink from hearing," she
said. "A lady in your position would not understand the trials and
the struggles that I have passed through. My story shall begin at the
Refuge. The matron sent me out to service with the character that I had
honestly earned--the character of a reclaimed woman. I justified the
confidence placed in me; I was a faithful servant. One day my mistress
sent for me--a kind mistress, if ever there was one yet. 'Mercy, I am
sorry for you; it has come out that I took you from a Refuge; I shall
lose every servant in the house; you must go.' I went back to the
matron--another kind woman. She received me like a mother. 'We will try
again, Mercy; don't be cast down.' I told you I had been in Canada?"

Grace began to feel interested in spite of herself. She answered with
something like warmth in her tone. She returned to her chair--placed at
its safe and significant distance from the chest.

The nurse went on:

"My next place was in Canada, with an officer's wife: gentlefolks who
had emigrated. More kindness; and, this time, a pleasant, peaceful life
for me. I said to myself, 'Is the lost place regained? _Have_ I got
back?' My mistress died. New people came into our neighborhood. There
was a young lady among them--my master began to think of another wife.
I have the misfortune (in my situation) to be what is called a handsome
woman; I rouse the curiosity of strangers. The new people asked
questions about me; my master's answers did not satisfy them. In a word,
they found me out. The old story again! 'Mercy, I am very sorry; scandal
is busy with you and with me; we are innocent, but there is no help for
it--we must part.' I left the place; having gained one advantage during
my stay in Canada, which I find of use to me here."

"What is it?"

"Our nearest neighbors were French-Canadians. I learned to speak the
French language."

"Did you return to London?"

"Where else could I go, without a character?" said Mercy, sadly. "I went
back again to the matron. Sickness had broken out in the Refuge; I made
myself useful as a nurse. One of the doctors was struck with me--'fell
in love' with me, as the phrase is. He would have married me. The nurse,
as an honest woman, was bound to tell him the truth. He never appeared
again. The old story! I