is my
home, and 'tis a bad place for the motherless and moneyless to live in.
My father is dead; Mr. ---- seized our things yesterday for the rent,
and turned us out into the streets; my brother is gone to Ashton to look
for employment, and I thought this place was as good as another; I can
sit here and brood over my wrongs."

Juliet was inexpressibly shocked. She turned to address a remark to her
companion, but to her increasing surprise, he was no longer in sight. A
vague suspicion flashed upon her mind. She was determined to satisfy her
doubts. Turning again to the girl, she addressed her in a kind soothing
tone.

"Have you no friends, Mary, who can receive you until your brother is
able to provide for you?"

"I never had many friends, Miss Juliet, and I have lost those I once
had. You see how it is with me," she cried, rising and wringing her
hands. "No respectable person would now receive me into their house.
There is the work-house, to be sure. But I will die here, beneath the
broad ceiling of heaven, before its accursed walls shall shut me in."

Juliet's heart prompted her to offer the wretched girl an asylum; but
she dreaded the indignation of her fastidious aunt. Whilst she paused,
irresolute how to act, the girl, emboldened by despair, suddenly caught
hold of her bridle, and fixing her dim eyes upon her face, continued:--

"It is to you, Miss Juliet, that I owe all this grief and misery--yes,
to you. Had you been a poor girl, like myself, I need not have cared for
you. My face is as pretty as yours, my figure as good. I am as capable
of love, and of being loved; but I lack the gold, the fine clothing, and
the learning, that makes you my superior. People say that you are going
to marry Mr. Hurdlestone; and it is useless for a poor girl like me to
oppose the wishes of a grand lady like you. But I warn you not to do it.
He is my husband in the sight of God; and the thought of his marrying
you has broken my heart. Despair is strong; and when I saw you together
just now, I felt that I should like to murder you both!"

"Mary," said Juliet, gravely, "you should not give ear to such
reports--they are utterly false. Do you imagine that any young woman of
principle would marry such a man as Mr. Hurdlestone?"

"Then why are you constantly together?" returned Mary, with flashing
eyes. "Did he not ride away the moment he saw me?"

"You have mistaken one Mr. Hurdlestone for the other. The gentleman that
just left m