the snow from her boots, and proceeding toward the open door of
the sitting-room.

Louise rose as she entered, glanced at the strange figure, then at her
husband, and then back to the figure again, with an amusing expression
of wonder on her beautiful features.

"I do not know this--this person's name," said he, at length.

"Lawson--Mrs. Portentia Lawson!" said the lady-reformist, laying her
walking-stick on the piano, and unbuttoning her over-coat. "I am
actively engaged in the benevolent enterprises of the day, and have come
to obtain your aid and cooeperation, madam." Here she made a low
inclination toward Louise.

"My wife does not meddle in such matters," said Mr. Edson, simply. "I
pay a stated sum yearly toward the support of the gospel, and give as
much as people in general to the missionary and Bible societies."

"It is nothing to me," said Mrs. Lawson, turning sharply upon the
speaker, "what you give to support the gospel, or to endow Bible
societies. I have nothing to do with such milk-sop organizations, or the
donkeys that draggle at their heels. Other and loftier objects engage my
attention and claim my powers. My business is not with you, sir! It is
with the woman who condescends to acknowledge you as her husband!"
Having delivered herself of the preceding harangue, Mrs. Lawson turned
her attention to Louise, and vouchsafed no further notice of Mr. Edson,
who soon slunk out of the room and returned to his counter.

"I suppose you are not wholly ignorant of the reform the more talented
of your sex are making efforts to effect in the social condition of
Wimbledon," remarked the nimble-tongued Mrs. Lawson to her fair auditor,
who was sitting in a low rocking-chair before the glowing grate, with
her tiny, slippered-feet poised on the fender.

"Yes!" answered she, purposely ignorant. "I am confined at home by my
duties as a wife, and know very little of what is passing around me."

Mrs. Lawson proceeded to give a detailed account of the labors of a
small band of enfranchised females for the liberation of their enslaved
and suffering sisters, whose weakness and timidity had hitherto
prevented their rising and throwing off the yoke of the oppressor, man.
So eloquently did she rehearse her tale, so still and patient was her
listener, that she felt confident of gaining a new coaedjutor in the
ranks of female reform. As she finished her recital, she directed a
sharp, piercing glance toward Mrs. Edson, whose c