innocence. Oh! if there be
one wretch living who deserves to be cast forth from the society of his
fellow men--if there be one who deserves to be trod on as a venomous
insect, and crushed as the vilest reptile that crawls--it is he who
calmly and deliberately sets himself about the hellish task of
accomplishing the ruin of a weak, confiding woman--and then, having
sipped the sweets and inhaled the fragrance of the flower, tramples it
beneath his feet. Will not the thunderbolts of Omnipotent wrath shatter
the perjured soul of such a villain?

But to resume. Fanny Aubrey pursued her walk, and was so fortunate as to
escape the insults (except such as were conveyed in glances,) of the
many libertines who are ever ready to take advantage of a female in a
situation like hers. As she was passing a magnificent mansion in a
quarter of the city mainly occupied by the residences of the
aristocracy, a beautiful young lady alighted from a splendid sleigh, and
observing the little fruit girl, beckoned her to approach. Fanny
modestly complied, and the young lady, with one of the sweetest smiles
imaginable selected an orange from her basket, and taking out a purse,
presented her with a bright gold coin.

"I have no change, Miss," said Fanny, in some confusion.

"Keep the money, my poor girl," rejoined the young lady, with a look of
deep compassion, as a tear of pity dimmed her bright eyes--"I am sure
you need it; you are much too pretty for such an employment. If you will
try and pass this way to-morrow at about this time, you may see me
again."

Amid Fanny's heartfelt thanks, the young lady entered the mansion, and
the door was closed.

Poor Fanny! she resumed her journey with a light heart. She never before
had possessed so much money. Five dollars! the sum seemed inexhaustible,
and she began to devise a thousand plans to expend it to advantage--and
the fact that she herself was not included in any of those plans, was a
beautiful illustration of the unselfishness of her character. Not for a
moment did she dream of appropriating it to the purchase of a good warm
shawl or dress for herself, although, poor girl! she so much needed
both. She would buy a nice comfortable rocking-chair for her
grandfather; or a thick great-coat for little Charley--she couldn't make
up her mind which, she loved them both so much--yet when she thought of
the poor, sick, blind old man, a holy pity triumphed over sisterly
affection, and she resolved upon