les from those she loved, felt contented and
cheerful, and soon fell asleep to dream that she was once more by her
mother's side.

Again that feeling of desolation returned, when, upon the morrow,
leaning upon the arm of Mr. Hall, she passed through the crowded
streets, and shrank back as the passing multitude jostled against each
other. It seemed as if every one gazed curiously at her, yet,
perchance, not one amid the throng heeded the timid little stranger.
She was first conducted to the house they had chosen for her
boarding-place, and though the lady at its head received her kindly,
she felt more lonely than ever, as she passed through the long halls,
and was regarded with looks of curiosity by the groups of young girls
who were just leaving the house to enter upon their daily tasks. They
were laughing and chatting gayly with each other; and poor Mary
wondered if she should ever feel as careless and happy as they seemed
to be.

Then they turned toward the "corporation," or factory, in which a
place had been engaged for her. Oh, how endless seemed those long,
noisy rooms; how weary she grew of new faces, and the strange din that
rose up from the city. "I never shall endure this," thought the poor
girl. "I shall never be able to learn my work. How can they go about
so careless and unconcerned, performing their duties, as it were,
mechanically, without thought or annoyance. But for poor Jamie I would
return to-morrow;" and with the thought of her brother came new hope,
new energy--and she resolved to enter upon her task boldly, and
without regret.

Yet for many days, even weeks, much of her time was spent in sadness,
struggle as she would against the feeling. The girls with whom she was
called daily to associate, were, most of them, kind and good tempered:
and though her instructors did laugh a little at her awkwardness at
first, she had entered so resolutely upon her new tasks that they
soon became comparatively easy to her; and she was so indefatigable
and industrious, that her earnings, after a time, became more even
than she had hoped for.

Still she was often weary, and almost tempted to despond. The
confinement and the noise was so new to her, that at first her health
partially gave way, and for several weeks she feared that after all
she would be obliged to return to the free mountain-air of her country
home. At such times she went wearily to her labors, and often might
have uttered Miss Barret's "Moan of