t I looked upon her, my curiosity
was lost at once in pity and respect. The people by whom she was
surrounded, were stunning her with coarse and vulgar questions, but
never an answer did she deign to give, though some wheedled and some
threatened; still 'twas to all alike: so most persons concluded she was
dumb.

_Flor._ And a very natural conclusion it was, when a female remained
silent, who had so excellent an opportunity of exercising her tongue.

_Mon._ Well, Sir, presently _my_ turn came to approach her, when somehow
my heart swelled quite painfully, to see the gracious image of our Maker
degraded, and one's own fellow creature treated like the brutes of the
field, so, that when I touched her, my tears started unawares and fell
upon her trembling hand. Would you believe it, sir? the poor desolate
statue felt the trickling drops, and reason was rekindled by the warmth
of pity. Suddenly her eyes, so lately dull and vacant, flashed with
recovered brightness. She cast herself at my feet--clasped my knees--and
cried out, in tones that might have moved a heart of rock--"Angel of
compassion! save me from disgrace?" All present started as if a miracle
were worked. "Will you preserve me?" cried the suppliant. I was a
widowed and a childless woman; in an instant I raised the forlorn one to
my arms, as a companion, as an adopted daughter. Her keepers were
ignorant men, but not cruel; their hearts were softened by the scene,
and they yielded their claims to my entreaties. I led the unfortune to
my dwelling; from that moment, she has shared my mat and partaken of my
morsel. I love her with the affection of a real parent, and were I now
to lose her, I think my heart would break upon the grave that robbed it
of its darling.

_Flor._ By heavens, I reverence your feelings! in truth 'tis a
melancholy story.

_Mon._ Yes, sir; and melancholy stories make people dry, so let me
recommend another cup of wine.

_Flor._ Madam, I can't refuse the challenge-- (_aside_) the old lady
certainly designs to send me under the table. But pray, madam, have you
never discovered the cause of that distress, from which you first
relieved this suffering woman?

_Mon._ Never. On the subject of her early adventures she remains
inflexibly silent. I have often tried to win the secret from her, but
though she is mild and rational enough upon all other themes, yet, let
but a hint remind her of her former wretchedness, her wits directly
start into disor