A flush of shame and indignation swept over the girl. Had it come to
this? Little versed in the world as Winnifred was, she knew but too well
the horror, the iniquity, the depth of degradation implied in the word.

"Yes," continued the agent, "I have a letter here asking me to recommend
a young lady of suitable refinement to play the part of Eliza in _Uncle
Tom's Cabin._ Will you accept?"

"Sir," said Winnifred proudly, "answer me first this question fairly. If
I go upon the stage, can I, as Eliza, remain as innocent, as simple as I
am now?"

"You can not," said the manager.

"Then, sir," said Winnifred, rising from her chair, "let me say this.
Your offer is doubtless intended to be kind. Coming from the class you
do, and inspired by the ideas you are, you no doubt mean well. But let a
poor girl, friendless and alone, tell you that rather than accept such a
degradation she will die."

"Very good," said the manager.

"I go forth," cried Winnifred, "to perish."

"All right," said the manager.

The door closed behind her. Winnifred Clair, once more upon the street,
sank down upon the steps of the building in a swoon.

But at this very juncture Providence, which always watches over the
innocent and defenceless, was keeping its eye direct upon Winnifred.

At that very moment when our heroine sank fainting upon the doorstep, a
handsome equipage, drawn by two superb black steeds, happened to pass
along the street.

Its appearance and character proclaimed it at once to be one of those
vehicles in which only the superior classes of the exclusive aristocracy
are privileged to ride. Its sides were emblazoned with escutcheons,
insignia and other paraphernalia. The large gilt coronet that appeared
up its panelling, surmounted by a bunch of huckleberries, quartered in a
field of potatoes, indicated that its possessor was, at least, of the
rank of marquis. A coachman and two grooms rode in front, while two
footmen, seated in the boot, or box at the rear, contrived, by the
immobility of their attitude and the melancholy of their faces, to
inspire the scene with an exclusive and aristocratic grandeur.

The occupants of the equipage--for we refuse to count the menials as
being such--were two in number, a lady and gentleman, both of advanced
years. Their snow-white hair and benign countenances indicated that they
belonged to that rare class of beings to whom rank and wealth are but an
incentive to nobler things. A gentle ph