shirt, and snow-white vest, too
recently from the hand of my unpaid washerwoman.

One of the young ladies upon whom I called was more to me than a mere
pleasant acquaintance. My heart had, in fact, been warming towards her
for some time; and I was particularly anxious to find favour in her
eyes. On this evening she was lovelier and more attractive than ever,
and new bonds of affection entwined themselves around my heart.

Judge, then, of the effect produced upon me by the entrance of her
mother--at the very moment when my heart was all a-glow with love, who
said, as she came in--

"Oh, dear! This is a strange world!"

"What new feature have you discovered now, mother?" asked one of her
daughters, smiling.

"No new one, child; but an old one that looks more repulsive than
ever," was replied. "Poor Mrs. Blake came to see me just now, in great
trouble."

"What about, mother?" All the young ladies at once manifested unusual
interest.

Tell-tale blushes came instantly to my countenance, upon which the eyes
of the mother turned themselves, as I felt, with a severe scrutiny.

"The old story, in cases like hers," was answered. "Can't get her money
when earned, although for daily bread she is dependent on her daily
labour. With no food in the house, or money to buy medicine for her sick
child, she was compelled to seek me to-night, and to humble her spirit,
which is an independent one, so low as to ask bread for her little ones,
and the loan of a pittance with which to get what the doctor has ordered
her feeble sufferer at home."

"Oh, what a shame!" fell from the lips of Ellen, the one in whom my
heart felt more than a passing interest; and she looked at me earnestly
as she spoke.

"She fully expected," said the mother, "to get a trifle that was due her
from a young man who boards with Mrs. Corwin; and she went to see him
this evening. But he put her off with some excuse. How strange that
any one should be so thoughtless as to withhold from the poor their
hard-earned pittance! It is but a small sum at best, that the toiling
seamstress or washerwoman can gain by her wearying labour. That, at
least, should be promptly paid. To withhold it an hour is to do, in many
cases, a great wrong."

For some minutes after this was said, there ensued a dead silence. I
felt that the thoughts of all were turned upon me as the one who had
withheld from poor Mrs. Blake the trifling sum due her for washing. What
my feelings were, i