and their places are filled by others in the great race of human life.

But a truce to moralizing.--Two months passed away, and it was now the
season of summer--that delicious season, fraught with more voluptuous
pleasures than virgin spring, gloomy autumn or hoary winter. It was in
rather an obscure street of Boston--in a modest two-story wooden
house--and in an apartment plainly, even humbly furnished, that two
ladies were seated, engaged in an earnest conversation.

One of these ladies was probably near forty years of age, and had
evidently once been extremely handsome; her countenance still retained
traces of great beauty--but time, and care, and perhaps poverty, were
beginning to mar it. Her figure was good, though perhaps rather too full
for grace; and her dress was very plain yet neat, and not without some
claims to taste.

Her companion was probably much younger, and was attired with
considerable elegance; yet a strange peculiarity in her costume would
have instantly excited the surprise of an observer--for although the day
was excessively warm, she wore a thick veil, which reached to her waist,
and effectually concealed her face. She conversed in a voice of
extraordinary melody; and the refined language of both ladies evinced
that they had been accustomed to move in a higher sphere of society than
that in which we now find them.

'At what time do you expect him here?' asked the oldest lady, in
continuation of the discourse in which they had previously been engaged.

'At eight o'clock this evening,' replied the other. 'He is completely
fascinated with me; and notwithstanding I have assured him, over and
over again, that my countenance is horribly disfigured, and that I am
entirely blind, he persists in believing that I am beautiful, and that I
have perfect eye-sight, attributing my concealment of face to a whim.'

'Which opinion you have artfully encouraged, Josephine,' said Mrs.
Franklin.--The reader has probably already guessed the identity of the
two ladies; this was the mother and her once beautiful, but now hideous
and blind daughter. They were reduced to the most abject poverty, and
had been forced to leave their handsome residence in Washington street,
and take up their abode in an humble and cheap tenement. Entirely
destitute of means, they were obliged to struggle hard to keep
themselves above absolute want. Josephine, being a superb singer, had
obtained an engagement to sing in one of the fashion