o higher
tastes, she may accomplish the same object?"

"That question proves that you do not, like my father, desire to see the
working and the thinking classes united. You seem to propose that the
first shall ever remain our hewers of wood and drawers of water."

"Is it not a fact that there have been, are, and always will be those in
the world who are fitted for no other position?"

"That there are and always have been such persons, I acknowledge; but
when labor ceases to be degrading, because it is partaken by all, may we
not hope that new aspirations will be awakened in the laborer--that he
will elevate himself in the scale of being when he feels elevation
possible?"

Mary Grahame spoke with generous enthusiasm, yet with a modest
gentleness which made Horace Danforth desire to continue the argument.

"Admitting all this," he said, "it does not answer my question, which
was, whether you did not prefer that state of society in which you were
able to avail yourself of the services of such a class?"

"There are moments, doubtless, when indolence would plead for such
self-indulgence; but I should be mortified, indeed, where this the
prevailing temper of my mind."

"Pardon me if I say that I do not see how it can be otherwise--how a
lady of Miss Grahame's refinement and taste can be pleased with the
employments, for instance, to which Mr. Grahame just now referred."

"Not pleased with them in themselves, but she may accept them, may she
not, as a necessary part of a great object to which she has devoted
herself?"

"And this object?--but, forgive me. The interest you have awakened in
the subject, and your kindness in answering my questions, make me an
encroacher, I fear," he added, as he marked the heightened color with
which Mary glanced at her father as he paused for her answer.

"Not at all; but I speak in presence of my master, and will refer you to
him," she replied, with another smiling glance at her father.

"You see," said Mr. Grahame, "that even in these wilds, 'the world's
dread laugh' retains its power. Mary, I see, is afraid of being called a
female Quixote, and even I find myself disposed to win you to some
interest in my object, before I avow it. This I think I can best do by a
sketch of the circumstances which led to its adoption. I will give you
such a sketch, therefore, if you will promise to acquit me of egotism in
doing so."

"That I will readily do. I shall be delighted to hear it."

"Yo