unded
the little cabin. There he was permitted to lie and think longingly of
his mother, surrounded by dense tobacco smoke, hot vapours, and greasy
fumes, until he blushed to find himself wishing, with all his heart,
that he had never left home!

There we will leave him to meditate and form useless resolves, which he
never carried out, while we introduce to the reader some of the other
actors in our tale.

CHAPTER TWO.

A CONTRAST TO CHAPTER I.

From that heaving grey wilderness of water called the North Sea we pass
now to that lively wilderness of bricks and mortar called London.

West-end mansions are not naturally picturesque or interesting subjects
either for the brush or the pen, and we would not willingly drag our
readers into one of them, did not circumstances--over which we have not
a shadow of control--compel us to do so.

The particular mansion to which we now direct attention belonged to a
certain Mrs Dotropy, whose husband's ancestors, by the way, were said
to have come over with the Conqueror--whether in his own ship or in one
of the bumboats that followed is not certain. They were De Tropys at
that time, but, having sunk in the social scale in the course of
centuries, and then risen again in succeeding centuries through the
medium of trade, they reappeared on the surface with their patronymic
transformed as now presented.

"Mother," said Ruth Dotropy to a magnificent duchess-like woman, "I've
come to ask you about the poor--"

"Ruth, dear," interrupted the mother, "I wish you would not worry me
about the poor! They're a troublesome, ill-doing set; always grumbling,
dirty, ill-natured, suspicious, and envious of the rich--as if it was
our fault that we are rich! I don't want to hear anything more about
the poor."

Ruth, who was a soft-cheeked, soft-handed, and soft-hearted girl of
eighteen, stood, hat in hand, before her mother with a slight smile on
her rosy lips.

"You are not quite just to the poor, mother," returned Ruth, scarce able
to restrain a laugh at her parent's vehemence. "Some of them are all
that you say, no doubt, but there are many, even among the poorest of
the poor, who are good-natured, well-doing, unsuspicious, and
respectful, not only to the rich but also to each other and to
everybody. There is Mrs Wolsey, for instance, she--"

"Oh! but she's an exception, you know," said Mrs Dotropy, "there are
not many like Mrs Wolsey."

"And there is Mrs Gladman," continue