THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 



 
 He even held out his hand to re-assure her." r-
 
 OR, 
 
 HOME 
 
 A UK IE IB 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 346 A 348 BROADWAY.
 
 IS.H.Ii:trtlctt. 
 
 LOSS AND GAIN ; 
 
 OR, 
 
 MA.RaA.RET'8 HOME. 
 
 BY 
 
 ALICE B. HAVEN. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 
 
 846 & 848 BROADWAY. 
 LONDON: 16 LITTLE BRITAIN. 
 
 M.DCCC.LX.
 
 ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, In the year 1860, by 
 D. APPLETON & CO., 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of tho United States for the 
 Southern District of New York.
 
 LOSS AND GAIN; 
 
 OB, 
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Have I not been nigh a mother 
 To thy sweetness ? Tell me, dear, 
 Have we not loved one another 
 
 Tenderly from year to year, 
 Since our dying mother, mild, 
 
 Said, with accents undefined, 
 Child, be mother to this child" ? 
 
 MRS. BROWNING. 
 
 " OH, it is cold, and so dark, sister ! I don't 
 think it can be five o'clock." 
 
 " But it is, Susie. I heard it strike just before 
 father called us." 
 
 " Just one more little nap," urged the child, 
 sleepily. " My side ached so when I first came 
 to bed ! It seems as if I had just got warm and 
 comfortable."
 
 LOSS AND GAIN; OK 
 
 The elder sister felt the force of the appeal, as 
 well as the silent pleading of the thin arms wound 
 tightly around her neck, and the face nestled more 
 closely to her own. It required effort, even for 
 her, to rise in the cold and darkness of the wintry 
 morning, and to bring her mind to the routine of 
 the day's employments. Susie was never well, 
 and had turned so restlessly the first of the night, 
 that she knew she must be suffering more than 
 usual. 
 
 " Margaret ! " called a voice again from the 
 foot of the stairs, and this time impatiently. 
 " Margaret ! Susie ! come, come ; what are you 
 about up there, both of you ? Your mother's had 
 a bad night, and wants Susie to take the baby." 
 
 It seemed as if " bad nights " were much the 
 fashion in Mr. Grant's household. His wife was 
 always complaining that the baby had kept her 
 awake, and she "must have her morning nap, 
 or she shouldn't be fit for a thing all day." 
 Mr. Grant never made his final appearance until 
 an hour that would have been inexcusable in a 
 poor man, but for midnight vigils that kept the 
 curiosity of the whole neighborhood alive. 
 
 Margaret, the eldest daughter, who shared the
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 7 
 
 little upper chamber with her sister, would wil 
 lingly have borne the morning drudgery, but that 
 she had separate tasks of her own. As it was, she 
 nerved herself to meet the cold air of the room, 
 and passed her hand tenderly over the sharp out 
 line of the face she could not see for the darkness, 
 rousing the little sleeper with a kiss. 
 
 " I can't give you another minute, Susie. It 
 is very late, I'm afraid. Father has called us 
 twice. You won't mind, after you are once out 
 of bed ; and I will have the fire lighted by the 
 time you come down." 
 
 " Oh, sister, I do wish we were rich ! " the 
 child said, wearily turning again, and clasping 
 the pillow Margaret had deserted. " I wouldn't 
 get up for two whole weeks." 
 
 " And what would you do ? " said Margaret, 
 cheerfully, groping about for her clothes, and talk 
 ing that she might rouse Susie more effectually. 
 
 " I'd have a fire in my room all night ; 
 wouldn't you, dear ? and you should stay at home 
 with me ; and we'd live all by ourselves ; wouldn't 
 we, Maggie ? " 
 
 " "What a selfish little thing ! " Margaret's 
 voice was still playful, though she fairly trembled
 
 8 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 with the cold ; and her hands were stiff and be 
 numbed as she arranged her abundant hair. 
 u There ! I'm almost through ; and you haven't 
 stirred. Come ! here's your dress and apron ; and 
 I put your stockings under the pillow, last night, 
 to keep them from freezing. Let's see if you 
 won't be ready first, after all ! Tell me some more 
 of your famous plans, if we were rich." 
 
 " You should be a lady," said Susie, starting 
 up at last, but more with eager thought than 
 strength of will " a real lady, and ride in a car 
 riage, and never have to go poking off to that 
 store, and get wet through and through in rainy 
 weather, and come home tired to death. You 
 should have every thing ; you're so good ! I don't 
 want much, you know, only to be warm, and rest 
 ed, and have plenty of books, and no children to 
 tend." 
 
 Poor Susie ! The last was the great trouble 
 of her young life. There was always a baby in 
 the family ; and Mrs. Grant's babies were invaria 
 bly cross. They were neither sweet, nor sprightly, 
 nor affectionate not that it was any fault of theirs, 
 poor, neglected little things ! They throve bodily, 
 nevertheless, and were heavy and lumpish, with
 
 MAKGAEET 8 HOME. 9 
 
 hanging cheeks and projecting eyes, a great weight 
 for any one to lift, and a perpetual strain upon 
 Susie, to whom the chief care fell. She was Mr. 
 Grant's child by a former marriage, Margaret's 
 own sister, and as different as possible from the 
 present juveniles of the family. Her figure was 
 slender, and bent into a settled stoop by this con 
 tinual child-nursing. Her face, though delicate, 
 wanted the roundness and coloring of health to 
 make it attractive ; while her large gray eyes, 
 " neither joyous nor sorry," had a dreamy, un- 
 childlike expression. It was no wonder that, 
 with the habit of reverie, so unnatural to a shy, 
 gentle disposition, made quiet by pain and weak 
 ness, Mrs. Grant and her familiar friends should 
 consider Susie a stupid little thing " obstinate 
 and sulky into the bargain," Mrs. Grant would 
 say to them. " But that was Margaret's fault. 
 Margaret was always putting her up to notions, 
 and interfering, if she tried to make her mind." 
 
 It was true that Margaret was the only one 
 that ever took Susie's part in the systematic house 
 hold oppression, of which she was the subject ; 
 but, to the child, she was always soothing and 
 self-restrained. She listened every night with
 
 10 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 motherly love and patience, to the trials and griev 
 ances of the day ; and, though they wrung her 
 heart and chafed her spirit, she was ready to ex 
 cuse Mrs. Grant to the child. " I wouldn't mind, 
 if I were you. She doesn't mean to be cross, I 
 don't believe. We won't say any thing about it 
 this time ; father worries so. It will all come 
 right one of these days." Yet Margaret could not 
 see t how, any better than her weary little sister. 
 So far, every thing had " come wrong " since Mrs. 
 Grant's introduction to the family. She had never 
 ceased wondering how her father could have mar 
 ried a person so unlike her own mother, who had 
 supplied energy to his wavering but kindly dispo 
 sition, and, by cheerful, industrious ways, always 
 managed to keep their home in peace and com 
 fort. She had seen heavy trials before her death 
 first of all, the failure of her husband's numer 
 ous projects, a gradual settling down in society, 
 as he became more and more a schemer ; while 
 those with whom she had commenced life rose 
 above even the remembrance of their early inti 
 macy. Then came the loss of two children younger 
 than Margaret, both boys, who seemed to promise 
 in the future the stay and dependence she had
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 11 
 
 not found in their father. Settled ill health fol 
 lowed, in addition to the slow inroads of poverty 
 and care, before the birth of little Susie, a wail 
 ing, feeble child. 
 
 When Margaret's mother came to end the hard 
 struggle with adversity, and laid down to die 
 knowing that it must still be borne by her children 
 many wondered at her composure, and the 
 cheerful loving-heartedness for all others in sorrow 
 and affliction ; which was shown in word and 
 deed. She had her secret struggles with a 
 mother's natural aifection and solicitude. Many 
 a wrestling prayer went up in the still midnight 
 for faith and trust for them. For herself, she did 
 not doubt the wisdom and goodness which were 
 hidden in the losses and disappointments that had 
 subdued the pride and ambition of her character, 
 to the humble meekness of a Christian, and taught 
 her to look forward with a longing to the " rest " 
 which is thus won. But, for them ! oh, how her 
 mother's heart yearned unutterably to bear the 
 sickly little baby with her, away from all pain, 
 and wailing, and to secure her fair bright Marga 
 ret from the trials which she had endured ! 
 
 It is so much harder to be resigned to the
 
 12 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 needful chastening of those we love, than to bear 
 the heavy stripes ourselves. In the blindness of 
 earthly affection, we would remove them from the 
 stroke, though acknowledging that for ourselves, 
 in very mercy he hath corrected us. 
 
 The prayers were heard, and the angel of His 
 presence came with the consolation of a trust far 
 greater than human foresight, to that lonely death 
 bed ; that revealed the blessing of the lingering 
 illness ; time to teach and to illustrate by patience 
 in suffering the lessons of her own life, to the 
 daughter on whom her burden was to be laid. 
 
 Already matured by sharing her mother's 
 anxieties, Margaret saw the last look turned from 
 her father's face to the sleeping 1 baby sister, and 
 then resting on herself, with a mute, wistful plead 
 ing. She comprehended its fullest meaning. She 
 was to watch over, and care for them, to supply 
 as far as possible her mother's vacant place. She 
 had tried to do this, in her ignorance and inexpe 
 rience, looking for help, as she had been taught, 
 to a Counsellor that could also aid. Her father 
 called her his " comforter," the child repaid her 
 love with clinging fondness. But this was not her 
 life-trial. Another came to them in her dead
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 13 
 
 mother's stead, a selfish, characterless, aimless 
 woman, whose influence upon her father was the 
 reverse of all that the first Mrs. Grant had been ; 
 and he became more and more a dreamer, with a 
 spirit broken, and a temper made irritable by re 
 peated failures, and the taunts that were sure to 
 follow. Her present occupation relieved Marga 
 ret in a measure from the irksomeness of home, 
 but Susie's bondage was a constant, daily trial. 
 Rebelling in heart at the change, she still prayed, 
 and tried to hope that all would be well in the 
 end even for her motherless little charge. But it 
 needed constant watchfulness over herself, and 
 now that winter had come again, with no cessation 
 of Susie's toil,land hardships, the temptation to 
 murmur and despond was ever present. This 
 cheerless day dawn, especially weighed upon her 
 spirits ; but her face lightened, as she heard the 
 slow, unwilling footsteps of the child, creeping 
 down the stairs. She had been moving about 
 quickly, and a fire already began to speak for it 
 self with a little snap, and crackle, which did its 
 best to sound like household music. 
 
 "There," said Margaret, as Susie couched 
 down, and held her benumbed hands close to the
 
 14: LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 very bars of the grate ; " you see I always do as 
 I say, and here's the fire I promised you ; take 
 care, the stove will heat faster than you think. 
 Now here's the teakettle, and the baby has gone 
 to sleep again I guess, for I haven't heard a sound 
 since I came down stairs." 
 
 " But my side aches as bad as it did last night, 
 and it hurts me so to lift off the kettle, and the 
 children are always so cross, and won't stand still 
 when I try to wash their faces. Oh, dear, what 
 shall I do, sister ? " 
 
 " Give up trying, and lie down and die ! " rose 
 to Margaret's lips, bitterly ; for she knew it was 
 all so, and saw no brighter future before them. 
 But it was not the first time sle had checked 
 promptings like these, and no one would have 
 guessed they had arisen from the tone of her reply. 
 
 " Do ? Why, as well as you can, Susie. No 
 one can do more than that. I'll rub your side 
 again, to-night. That always rests you, you know ; 
 and perhaps I'll be home in time to finish that 
 story after you are snug and warm in bed. I'll 
 keep it in mind to comfort me, too, when I get 
 tired and cross waiting on people." 
 
 " I don't think you know how to get cross."
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 15 
 
 And the child brightened with the love that 
 prompted this firm belief. " Ruth says you don't ; 
 and she says you get prettier every day." 
 
 " Poh, Susie ! Is that all you and Ruth have 
 to talk about ? "What does she know of my tem 
 per ? I do get outrageously cross sometimes, and 
 shall now, if that kettle doesn't boil pretty soon. 
 It's high time it was off." 
 
 " I wish it wasn't so far to the store." 
 
 " So do I ; and then you could come and walk 
 home with me, sometimes in the spring, when the 
 days get longer, and you get stronger," she added, 
 in the playful tone which was such a cordial to 
 Susie's depression. " But we shouldn't quarrel 
 with our bread and butter ; should we ? I'm all 
 ready for mine." 
 
 Susie did not insist on old Ruth's opinion ; but 
 her faith in Margaret's perfections was unchanged, 
 as she watched her eating her hurried meal by the 
 gray dawn that now came to aid the red flashes of 
 the firelight. The surroundings were humble 
 enough ; the small room scantily furnished, carpet- 
 less, and in its early morning disorder ; nor did 
 Margaret's dress add much to the picture, a" choco 
 late print, close fitting, and without any attempt
 
 16 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 at elegance, save its first element, simplicity ; but, 
 as she stood before the window, a bright tartan 
 shawl wrapped around her, and the early sunlight 
 just tinging the masses of her abundant hair, she 
 was not unpicturesque, though far from being as 
 beautiful as the child regarded her. When the 
 cup was set down, the shawl pinned closely over 
 her well-developed figure, and the straw bonnet 
 with its faded ribbons tied on, no stranger would 
 have looked at her a second time in passing. 
 There was nothing of the elegantly distressed 
 heroine of romance about her. She looked exactly 
 what she was, a store girl on the way to her daily 
 morning tasks.
 
 MAKGAEET'S HOME. 17 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 IT was now three^years since Margaret Grant 
 had the good fortune to secure a situation in the 
 large establishment of Churchill & Choate, one of 
 the oldest and most respectable firms in the city, 
 and, though not situated in Chestnut street, with 
 its own share of fashionable popularity. Some of 
 the handsomest carriages and best people in town 
 were always to be found there. Highly respecta 
 ble old ladies, particularly of the Quaker connec 
 tion, whose wedding-dresses of soft dove-colored 
 silk had been purchased at its counters, brought 
 their daughters in turn to choose the more worldly 
 brocade or moire, in which they were to declare 
 their intention of taking to themselves a husband 
 before the assembled " meeting." Substantial 
 families who were contented with the width and 
 comfort of a cross-street house, without even as 
 piring to the narrower gentility of the West End
 
 18 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 squares, made liberal purchases in the spring and 
 autumn, paying cash for the same ; and, though 
 it was of rather equivocal advantage to the firm, 
 long bills from those fashionable quarters accu 
 mulated greatly at Christmas y particularly in the 
 items of lace and evening-dress generally. Their 
 gloves were native Parisians beyond dispute ; and 
 in shawls there was the mqst unlimited choice, 
 from the comfortable Bay IState to the brilliant 
 hues and designs of Delisle, from the last exposi 
 tion or the faded splendors of real Indian cash 
 meres. But, if Churchill & Choate had one repu 
 tation above another, it was in the household fur 
 nishing department. Such blankets and counter 
 panes ! such Irish linen and Russian table napery ! 
 such stout Buickabuck and Allendale flannels ! It 
 was a treat for any one with housekeeping pro 
 pensities to inspect them ; and it always had been 
 so from the time of young Mr. Churchill's father, 
 who had handed down the reputation of the house, 
 and the wherewithal to sustain it, to his only son, 
 and his faithful head clerk, Caleb Choate, whose 
 conservative pinciples were sure to check any 
 modern business innovations. It was, perhaps, 
 owing to this balance-wheel in the internal ma-
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 19 
 
 chinery that the firm owed nothing of their pros 
 perity to outward display and decoration. The 
 younger Mr. Churchill had natural good taste, 
 heightened by artistic cultivation, as was proved 
 by his selections in the department especially un 
 der his control; and foreign travel and associa 
 tion had made a visible difference in address be 
 tween him and the late respected senior partner, 
 Mr. Churchill, who had been the founder of his 
 own fortunes, was bluff, good-natured, and thor 
 oughly respectable. His son, with the same kind 
 ly disposition, had an almost womanly gentleness 
 of manner and speech, with an outward reserve 
 the reverse of his father's hilarity. He never 
 could have made their present popularity with all 
 classes, though his well-known integrity sustained 
 it. Mr. Caleb set his worthy face steadily against 
 the spirit of the times, frowning down plate-glass 
 windows and brown stone fronts, loudly asserting 
 that what had made his father's fortune would 
 secure theirs, and that a solid reputation for good 
 articles and fair prices was worth all the ginger 
 bread work of modern architects. 
 
 As nearly in the centre of the multiplied 
 wholesale and retail divisions as it was possible to
 
 20 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 plant it stood the desk, an awful bar of judgment 
 to delinquent cash boys and late or idle clerks, for 
 it was the post of observation from which Mr. 
 Caleb surveyed all things with a far-seeing scruti 
 ny. Now and then, when it was least expected, 
 he descended from the stool of state, and walked, 
 in an apparently absent way as if for the moder 
 ate exercise which health demanded through the 
 length and breadth of his domains. The pen, ex 
 tending stiffly from behind his ear, was not more 
 unbending than Mr. Caleb's figure ; the red silk 
 handkerchief nourished at intervals from the desk, 
 now drooped slightly from the pocket of his gray 
 office coat ; his shirt collar described an exact 
 angle from his close mown chin ; his long thin 
 hands were folded after a fashion of his own, sug 
 gestive of a descent from broad brims, and a dis 
 tant connection with yearly meetings. At the 
 moment of his appearance, absent minded though 
 he seemed, woe to any delinquent on whom his 
 keen eyes fell. Pocket mirrors were replaced 
 with marvellous rapidity by young gentlemen 
 speculating on the whisker crop ; groups of dam 
 sels, gossiping over the last bit of scandal report 
 ed by one fashionable customer to another, sepa-
 
 MAHGAHET'S HOME. 21 
 
 rated silently, and commenced a hasty rearrange 
 ment of dress goods. Order and diligence follow 
 ed everywhere in the path of the upright Mr. 
 Caleb. 
 
 The influence of Mr. Churchill on this great 
 community of employees was quite as great, 
 though outwardly less marked. His father's 
 daily appearance for the old gentleman had still 
 an unconquerable longing after the scene of his 
 busy life was the signal for smiles and harmless 
 jests from all quarters ; but they would have as 
 soon thought of venturing on a pleasantry with 
 the austere Mr. Caleb, as the younger man, who 
 made his round as a matter of necessity rather 
 than choice. It was quite as well, considering 
 how many bright eyes and fair hands he was in 
 daily contact with, that he had this pride or rather 
 reserve of character. All were not as prudent as 
 Miss Choate, Mr. Caleb's maiden sister, who still 
 occupied her ancient post, and was, by general ac 
 quiescence, considered as sub-manager under him 
 of the female flock. Miss Choate's spectacles 
 looked with forbidding coolness on the introduc 
 tion of all elaborate hair-dressing, whether plaits 
 or curls, and smiled only on the dark prints and
 
 22 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 woollen stuffs which she had worn in the days 
 when she first set out to help Caleb " make his 
 fortune," still adhered to, though the object was 
 accomplished. 
 
 Such, then, was the internal rule of the highly 
 respectable house of Churchill & Choate, where 
 Margaret's day, from seven in the morning until 
 seven at night, was invariably passed. Cheerful 
 and animated as the whole establishment seemed 
 at the fashionable shopping hour, when a line of 
 carriages stretched around the corner, and their 
 late occupants added brilliancy to the interior by 
 rich and fanciful toilets, it was scarcely even com 
 fortable when the arrivals for the day began. Cot 
 ton hangings secured the costly fabrics on the 
 shelves from the dust of a daily cleansing ; the 
 counters were empty, the windows undraped, the 
 uncarpeted floor so cold, the atmosphere gray and 
 chilly everywhere. 
 
 Margaret always dreaded this beginning of her 
 day. Fresh from home, and the recollection of its 
 annoyances, they pressed more heavily in the 
 midst of physical discomforts. It was especially 
 so now. She could not rid herself of Susie's sug 
 gestion. Why, indeed, could they not have a
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 23 
 
 home of their own, free from the exactions de 
 manded of herself, and the constant tyranny to 
 which the child was exposed ? What claim had 
 the father's wife on her hard earnings, more and 
 more absorbed in the household expenses, while 
 the simplest necessities of her dress were allowed 
 to her grudgingly ? Her daily associates led, by 
 comparison, gay, pleasant lives. They talked of 
 balls, and parties, and concerts, after the fashion 
 of those whom they served. She had never known 
 an evening's indulgence with all her passionate 
 love of music. "Was it just, this hard, self-deny 
 ing life, to herself, and, above all, to Susie, with 
 her bright, quick intellect, and a voice, her 
 mother's voice, though stronger and richer, almost 
 thrilling, even with the lack of all cultivation ? 
 This surely ought to be developed and trained as 
 a means of livelihood. Susie would never be well 
 enough to stand behind a counter, lifting and fold 
 ing heavy fabrics, that macfe her own strong arms 
 ache with fatigue or, worse still, to bend over 
 her needle at the trade Mrs. Grant was always 
 threatening her with. Margaret's face grew grave, 
 almost to sullenness, as a rash determination of 
 escape, at all hazards, sprang up ; and her hands
 
 24: LOSS AND GAIN J OK, 
 
 busied themselves abstractedly in the arrange 
 ment of her wares. 
 
 " I'd thank you to let my pattern-cards alone," 
 said a pettish disagreeable voice at her side, for 
 she was searching boxes in charge of her next 
 neighbor as she indulged in this bitter reverie. 
 
 This young girl, whose companionship was 
 particularly distasteful to Margaret, was a general 
 favorite with their regular customers, and took airs 
 accordingly. She knew that many of them would 
 wait to be served by her, and that the knowledge 
 of this attraction was not without weight at head 
 quarters. Even Miss Choate, with her rigid no 
 tion of dress and propriety, overlooked many a 
 fault in Addie Long, and was always ready to 
 shield her from Mr. Caleb's displeasure. But 
 with her pretty face and winning manner, she 
 was giddy and frivolous, without a thought save 
 dress and admiration. It was not amiability, but 
 to win this needful stimulant, that she had a 
 smile for every lady customer, and a glance for 
 every gentleman awaiting a wife or sister's pur 
 chase. She could never understand how the 
 grave and quiet Margaret was almost, if not quite 
 as great a favorite as herself; but she was in
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 25 
 
 some sort, a rival, and therefore to be annoyed 
 with the petty shafts of ill-natured jealousy. 
 " You are growing very careless and disagreeable, 
 Margaret Grant, I can tell you," she added, 
 though Margaret had instantly resigned the box 
 with an apology. " I'm not the only one that 
 sees it, either. I heard your name at the desk, 
 last night, while I was kept waiting with that 
 last bill of goods. Mr. Caleb it was, and Mr. 
 Churchill himself. I shouldn't like to be brought 
 up by him, with all his smooth words. You 
 needn't get so red over it." 
 
 Margaret's face grew scarlet. She was over 
 sensitive to blame. That was a part of her na 
 ture ; and this she felt was undeserved. She had 
 been unhappy for a month past, ever since the 
 first sharp autumn days had added to Susie's 
 hardships ; but she could not accuse herself of the 
 least neglect. The young girl's loud tone had 
 attracted the attention of all around ; and yet 
 the charge was so indefinite that she could say 
 nothing in return. It was the commencement of 
 a weary morning, and made her apparently guilty 
 of the very faults with which she had been 
 
 charged. She could not bring her thoughts to 
 2
 
 26 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 the work before her. Twice her bills were sent 
 back from the desk with an error in the reckon 
 ing marked by Mr. Caleb himself. She named 
 wrong prices, forgot her measurements, and an 
 swered all questions with preoccupied abstrac 
 tion that excited the remark of all around her. 
 
 Never had she been more thankful to hear 
 the measured stroke of the State House clock, 
 which released her for the noon recess. She longed 
 to be alone ; but the dressing-room was in a stir 
 and hum as she entered it. 
 
 A good-natured girl, with no pretensions to 
 beauty, ran up to her. 
 
 " Do come with us for once in your life, Mar 
 garet. Let your lunch be for to-morrow ; 'twill 
 save you just so much trouble." 
 
 " Come ? Where ? " said she, wishing in her 
 heart they would go anywhere, so that she could 
 have her coveted quiet. 
 
 " To Brooks's first. I know you think we are 
 awfully extravagant." 
 
 " It's my treat, though," said another, tying 
 her bonnet before the little mirror. " Come on ! 
 cream-cakes and coffee; and then we're going 
 through Second Street to look at hats. I saw a 
 beauty at White's pink uncut velvet."
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 2Y 
 
 " Addie Long says she is going to have pink 
 velvet, Marianne." 
 
 " Then I won't ; that's certain." And the 
 speaker spread out the very elaborate bows she 
 had been tying. " What are you going to have, 
 Margaret ? " 
 
 " Nothing new, that I know of," said Mar 
 garet, forcing herself to be interested, or, at least, 
 to listen pleasantly to the chatter of these foolish 
 girls, who daily fostered an unhealthy appetite by 
 dainties, and spent every dollar that remained on 
 dress. 
 
 " I declare ! you're not a bit like other peo 
 ple ! " said Marianne. " Where's my shawl, girls ? 
 Do somebody look for it ! I don't believe you'll 
 ever be married." 
 
 " I don't suppose I ever shall. 
 
 " Well, I mean to ; that's certain, if I can find 
 any one to have me. Come Ellen Boyne ! Betty, 
 do hurry ! can't you ? I should hate to think I'd 
 got to settle down into an old maid." 
 
 "Like 'Spectacles.'" And Ellen Boyne 
 pointed over her shoulder to the brown silk bon 
 net of Miss Choate, occupying the highest peg in 
 the room.
 
 28 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 Bang went the green baize door at last, swing 
 ing to upon their noisy exit ; . and Margaret had 
 the quiet which she craved. 
 
 " I don't suppose I ever shall " had been said 
 in grave earnest, for she was slowly renouncing 
 the one bright dream which colors every young 
 girl's life. With the giddy creatures who had 
 just left her, it was a vision of nattering atten 
 tion never to cease of unrestrained liberty, and 
 dress, and sight-seeing. With Margaret, it was 
 the hope of finding the affection and companion 
 ship which she had yearned for ever since her 
 mother's death, which her father, even when 
 kindest, never could wholly satisfy, and Susie's 
 clinging, grateful heart was too childish and inex 
 perienced to give. She never had had, like most 
 other girls, intimate friends of her own age. It 
 was not pride which kept her from the asso 
 ciation, but. a lack of sympathy in what occupied 
 her thoughts. She could talk to old Ruth of her 
 troubles ; and the good woman had always some 
 kind and consoling thing to say ; but Ruth was 
 uneducated, with all her honest goodness ; and 
 Margaret's mental advancement, commenced by 
 her mother, and carried on mostly in this precious
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 29 
 
 noon hour, had been rapid even beyond her own 
 realization. Boobs were to be had for the hire 
 and they were the one self-indulgence of her 
 busy life. To-day she could not read. One 
 courageous, prayerful thought, and the difficulties 
 which beset her would have resolved themselves 
 into the phantoms they so often proved, or 
 Heaven-sent trials, bringing with them their own 
 strength ; but she could not even pray. The last 
 random words of those who had just left her filled 
 her heart, already brooding over the sorrows of 
 her young life, with inexpressible bitterness. 
 " No ; I shall never marry," she said to herself, 
 slowly. " Who would ever ask me to be a wife, 
 that I could love and respect, as I must a hus 
 band ? Then there are father and Susie ! Poor 
 father ! poor Susie ! " 
 
 Some one opened the door rudely. It was a 
 messenger in search of her, with an unusual and 
 startling summons. Mr. Choate desired to see 
 her in the office immediately." 
 
 Once a month, they entered, in turn, this 
 inner shrine of Mr. Caleb's authority to receive, 
 from his exact hands, the amount of salary due, 
 and to give a receipt for the same. Otherwise,
 
 30 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 Margaret had never entered it in the three years 
 of her service ; and she knew that even Miss 
 Choate seldom ventured to penetrate so far into 
 Mr. Caleb's confidence. He was there before her, 
 seated with all the authority of a magistrate at the 
 table, his spectacles perched on the upreared lock 
 of iron gray hair above his forehead. But he 
 was not alone. Mr. Churchill stood by the 
 window, though he only bowed as she entered, 
 and did not move or speak. 
 
 " I am sorry to cut short your hour of relaxa 
 tion. Ahem ! Take a chair, Miss Grant," pre 
 faced Mr. Caleb. 
 
 For the moment, Margaret could not even 
 guess for what she was arraigned. Something of 
 importance, with all this solemn preparation ; and 
 then Adelaide Long's taunt, and the carelessness 
 which she knew herself to have been guilty of 
 since then, flashed into her mind. 
 
 " Sorry to have to trouble you on such an un 
 pleasant business," continued Mr. Caleb, wav 
 ing his hand stiffly before the still vacant chair. 
 But it's best for all parties that the investigation 
 should be made at once. Do you know to come 
 to the point any thing of a robe, No. 297, brought
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 31 
 
 from the wholesale department on the 27th of 
 last month ? " 
 
 " Sir ? " said the bewildered Margaret, not 
 comprehending the insinuated charge against her. 
 
 " A robe a volant" said Mr. Caleb, with a 
 decidedly English accent, and referring to the 
 memorandum before him. No. 297, A. X. ; three 
 flounces, in oriental scroll pattern blue and 
 silver." 
 
 Margaret remembered it perfectly well. It 
 was in Ellen Boyne's hands at the time it was 
 shown her ; and Adelaide Long took it from her, 
 and held it up in all lights, saying how very be 
 coming it would be to Mrs. John Thompson, a 
 leader in fashionable society, a blonde beauty. 
 Miss Adelaide flattered herself that she bore a 
 strong resemblance to her.. 
 
 Mr. Caleb drew off his spectacles, and re 
 placed them in his red morroco case, as he silently 
 awaited Margaret's answer. 
 
 " I have seen the dress I recollect it," faltered 
 Margaret, beginning to comprehend that the 
 robe was missing, and suspicion was directed 
 towards her ; and conscious at the same time, 
 that Mr. Churchill had turned, and was listening
 
 32 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 to her answer. She felt his full, penetrating eyes 
 as they were fixed on her face, and the quick 
 color rushed to her cheek and forehead. 
 
 " Ah, you recollect it," and Mr. Caleb made a 
 note on the back of the memorandum. " It was 
 on or near the 27th that you saw it, that was 
 Friday, two weeks ago Friday." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; that was the day ; it was sent for 
 to show Mrs. Ashton." 
 
 " Precisely. Now when did you see it last." 
 
 Mr. Caleb took great credit to himself, for the 
 framing of this inquiry ; he expected it to startle 
 forth an instant confession, or an involved reply 
 that would settle the matter as easily. 
 
 But Margaret said nothing for a moment ; she 
 was trying in vain to recollect ; all was confusion 
 and shame. At any other time, she would have 
 borne the examination and answered quietly, but 
 disturbed as she had been all the morning, self- 
 control deserted her. She did not resent the 
 implied accusation, but it stung her, and the pres 
 ence of Mr. Churchill, seldom consulted in the 
 details of the establishment, made it doubly 
 humiliating. 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Caleb, I do not know ; I cannot
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 33 
 
 - 
 
 tell ; I do not believe that I have seen it since 
 that day." 
 
 " Yes, or no, Miss Grant, if you please. Have 
 you seen it since or not ? It is highly important 
 that we should be precise and definite. The box 
 is gone, not without hands." 
 
 When was Mr. Caleb any thing but " precise " 
 and " definite " ? Margaret looked up at him as 
 he spoke, sitting there almost as rigid as the iron 
 form of his counting-house chair. Mr. Churchill 
 was still listening : it recalled her to herself, as she 
 noticed this. 
 
 "I have not seen the silk," she said more 
 firmly than she had yet spoken, and choking 
 down the sobs of womanly shame and morti 
 fication that she felt rising up within her. "I 
 Know nothing of it since that day. I have nothing 
 more to say." 
 
 " You may go," said Mr. Caleb, glancing up 
 at his partner to see if he had any inquiry to 
 make ; " and be so good as not to mention to any 
 one the subject of our present conversation." 
 
 There was not the slightest variation of voice 
 or feature as he spoke. ]STo one could have told 
 
 whether he was dismissing a convicted criminal, 
 2*
 
 34: LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 or a person in whose innocence lie had always 
 held an unshaken faith. Margaret turned, still 
 proudly as she had last spoken, but with a 
 cruel sense of injustice and shame, which no con 
 cealment could crush. 
 
 Mr. Churchill stepped quickly before her, and 
 laid his hand upon the lock. Mr. Caleb coughed, 
 and turned the chair with a warning creak ; but 
 both signals were unheeded by the younger man. 
 He met Margaret's almost defiant look with one 
 so kind, so troubled, that her resolution almost 
 failed her. 
 
 "I wish you to understand, before you go, 
 Miss Grant, that Mr. Choate makes no distinct 
 charge against you, and that it was not my wish 
 to have you questioned. You will believe me 
 when I say that I never have for a moment 
 supposed that you were implicated in this un 
 happy affair." 
 
 He even held out his hand in his eagerness to 
 reassure her, as if he wished to convince her by a 
 departure from his usual reserve. It was very 
 kind in him, almost brotherly. Margaret felt it 
 to be, and wished that she had a brother could 
 resent this accusation, and have her innocence
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 35 
 
 fully established at once. She longed to take the 
 hand so frankly extended, and thank him ; but 
 the distance between them was too great. She 
 remembered it, if he did not ; but she looked up 
 once more to show him that she was not ungrate 
 ful for his sympathy, and met his kindly glance 
 now with quivering lips and eyes full of hot, 
 blinding tears.
 
 36 LOSS AND GAIN ; OK, 
 
 OHAPTEE III. 
 
 POOR little Susie ! She fully intended, when 
 Margaret left her, to be veiy good all day, and 
 try to please the dearest and best sister in the 
 world. But every thing seemed against her. The 
 fire, after its treacherous promises, would not go 
 on burning, but fell apart, and smoked sullenly 
 at her attempts to revive it again. The children 
 made their appearance in the midst of her efforts, 
 both clamoring to be dressed at once, and so 
 wakened the baby, who declined every invitation 
 to be quiet and amuse itself on the floor, while 
 she washed the dirty little faces and forced the 
 stiff brass buttons of jackets and trousers through 
 button-holes that never were made large enough ; 
 Susie almost thought it was done purppsely. 
 
 Then came a search for "Washington's shoe, 
 carrying about the baby who would not be put 
 off another moment, as she looked ; and when it
 
 MAUGAKET'S HOME. 37 
 
 was at length, found under the bed where it had 
 fallen when "shied" at his brother the night 
 before, the string was in a hard knot which 
 resisted alike the eiforts of teeth and her still 
 benumbed fingers. 
 
 Of course there were no preparations for break 
 fast, and she was blamed for it all, when Mrs. 
 Grant made her appearance cap in hand, and 
 her untidy dress not yet fastened. She had 
 evidently stepped out of bed after that fashion 
 graphically described as " the wrong way," and 
 her ill-humor continued to vent itself the whole 
 morning on her husband, for not bringing wash- 
 water from the court hydrant, unbidden ; on the 
 children, for getting under foot and running the 
 perpetual risk of being scalded by boiling suds ; 
 and on Susie, for every one of these offences, 
 with numberless other accusations, especially her 
 own. 
 
 How Susie ' hated washing-days, with their 
 slop, and steam, and general discomfort ! How 
 she vowed to herself, as she dragged the baby 
 along on one arm, and a pail of rinsing water on 
 the other, that, if ever she grew up and was 
 married, she would never have a thing washed
 
 38 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 from one year's end to the other, though she 
 would never marry, for that matter, if children 
 were always as cross as her three little brothers ; 
 and then she subsided into her Utopia again, a 
 lovely room, in which Margaret and herself lived 
 all alone together, always as neat and tidy as old 
 Ruth's, with a little stove which made it warm 
 and comfortable even in the night, when her side 
 kept her awake. She would have plenty of books, 
 all story-books too, not such stupid dry things as 
 Margaret liked. There was one vague ambition 
 that could not shape itself, it was too high for 
 even Susie's soaring imagination to make reality 
 the power of fit utterance to the wild passionate 
 music in her heart, to wake those thrilling surges 
 of sound which she heard in the Sunday service 
 roll though the old church, with the deep chorus 
 of " men and women singers." 
 
 Church music was all that Susie had ever 
 heard, and she learned the hymns and anthems 
 with scarcely an effort at remembrance. Above 
 all, she loved the plaintive minors of the Lenten 
 season ; and it was a strange thing to hear the 
 fine old melodies of Purcell or Handel sung at 
 the door of a miserable dwelling, to hush a fretful
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 39 
 
 child, instead of the time worn-lullabies of nurses, 
 or the still more unmeaning songs of the people. 
 But Susie often sung away her care and loneliness 
 watching for Margaret in the dusky, ill-lighted 
 street, until rudely recalled to harsher discords than 
 any her true ear had ever known, which jarred 
 all the more unpleasantly for the spirit of the 
 twilight and the song. 
 
 The baby, called Leander after some favorite 
 hero of romance, for Mrs. Grant had been a great 
 novel-reader in her day, did condescend to take a 
 nap in the afternoon ; and was deposited in his 
 wooden cradle, with a sigh of relief by his weary 
 little nurse. 
 
 Now, she thought to creep away to their own 
 room, where she could wrap her cloak around her, 
 and read a little while in peace before it was quite 
 dark. But Mrs. Grant, preparing to wash up the 
 kitchen floor, was not unobservant. " Su-san ! " 
 she called after the child in her shrillest voice, 
 '' where's the boys ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 Susie sat down on the stairs as she said it, 
 with a rebellious rising of the will she did not try 
 to check.
 
 4:0 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 " Well, suppose you find out, then. I can't go 
 and hunt 'em up ; and it's high time they were 
 in." 
 
 " I have a great mind not to stir a step," 
 thought Susie. " I've been running every minute 
 to-day ; and it's so slippery and cold ! I don't 
 care if she does punish me. They always run 
 around the corner the minute they see me coming ; 
 and I have to chase after them. But I suppose 
 I must. Oh, good ! I'll go and see Euth a little 
 while, and get warm." 
 
 " Susan ! " called Mrs. Grant again, " you'd 
 better not have me come after you, if you know 
 what's good for yourself." 
 
 The child waited for no further summons, but 
 snatched up her hood, and dodged the box on the 
 ear, which past experience taught her to expect, 
 as she went through the kitchen. 
 
 The pavement was very slippery, for nearly 
 every one in the court had been washing as well 
 as Mrs. Grant ; and the way to the hydrant that 
 supplied them all with water was marked by icy 
 glares, the splashes of the water-pails freezing as 
 they fell. The wind whirled up clouds of dust from 
 the ash-heap, and rattled the tin signs of the shoe-
 
 MAEGAKET'S HOME. 41 
 
 maker and tailoress, who pursued their avocation 
 in this out-of-the-way locality. 
 
 Mrs. Norton, or " old Ruth," as almost every 
 one called her, lived still within a court, which 
 was only a narrow alley-way arched over be 
 tween two houses ; but, when this was passed, 
 no visitor could regret that it was so shut off 
 from the confusion and filth of the outer street. 
 The whole space in front of the one-story wooden 
 tenement, in which she had a life-interest, was 
 scarcely ten feet square ; yet under the window 
 was a little flower-border, where roses and sweet- 
 williams consented to grow in summer, more in 
 gratitude for Ruth's constant attendance than for 
 any sunshine streaming over the sloping, dilapi 
 dated roofs that shut them in. In winter, only, 
 the flat door-step, and the neatness of the old- 
 fashioned, uneven stone flagging, gave evidence 
 of Ruth's open-air industry. 
 
 The door opened directly into the principal 
 room of the dwelling. There had been, originally, 
 no division ; but Ruth's ideas of propriety had 
 suggested the partitioning off of one corner as a 
 bed-chamber, which gave the outer apartment an 
 odd, triangular shape. Here she sat at her work
 
 42 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 all day long, always contented and cheerful, not 
 withstanding a life marked by many losses and 
 crosses, glancing up now and then, by way of 
 refreshment, at the roses blossoming on the 
 window-ledge. She had always wanted a bird to 
 make up her companionship ; but the time had 
 not yet come that she could afford to keep one. 
 " Not while there are so many hungry mouths to 
 feed in the neigborhood," she was just saying, as 
 Susie, sure of her welcome, opened the door 
 rather unceremoniously. " But flowers don't eat 
 anything." 
 
 The child was abashed to find herself face to 
 face with a tall, handsomely-dressed lady, who 
 was admiring the healthy-looking plants. She 
 would have retreated immediately, if Ruth had 
 not called to her to come in, while the lady herself 
 smiled pleasantly, and asked if this was a grand 
 child. 
 
 " Oh no, Miss Agnes ! " said Ruth, quickly. 
 " She was all I had. That was what made it so 
 hard when she came to give up, and settle down 
 with the cough, just as her father did before her. 
 I never can forget your goodness, coming to see 
 her to the last, or how she always took to you, 
 poor dear ! "
 
 MAKGABET'S HOME. 43 
 
 Ruth, after the fashion of her class, raised the 
 corner of her clean gingham apron to her eyes, 
 those clear, soft eyes, to which tears sprang so 
 quickly, though they never stayed there long. 
 
 The lady's face looked graver ; and Susie knew 
 that they were talking of Ruth's daughter, who 
 had died three years before. 
 
 " I can see just how she used to lean back in 
 that very chair by the window, watching for you 
 afternoons, just as calm as a baby, I might say, 
 though I was ready to cry every time I looked at 
 her. Her hands were so thin ! and they used to 
 be such busy hands, too, for me and everybody ; 
 and her cheeks as pink as the ribbons in your 
 bonnet, Miss Agnes. So was her father's, always, 
 from the time he took to the house." 
 
 " She had a very lovely face," the lady said, in 
 the pause. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am ; so she had, though I say it, 
 more and more so, till she was laid in her coffin. 
 But I don't rebel, Miss Agnes ! I don't rebel ! 
 She taught me 'twas wicked and sinful ; and I 
 can never forget that it was you who made her 
 understand it all, and grow so patient, while her 
 poor father fretted against his sickness till the
 
 4A LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 day of Ms death. But it's hard for a poor man 
 to know he's going to leave his wife and his baby- 
 without a house nor a home, only the Lord pro 
 vided that when he wasn't here to see it," Ruth 
 added, as if fearful that she had thrown some 
 faint shadow on the memory she still cherished so 
 sacredly. 
 
 " Yes ; I can understand it," her visitor said, 
 gently. " The rich are spared that bitterness in 
 death ; but they have their own trials of faith, 
 Mrs. Norton. God apportions the joys and 
 sorrows of life far more equally than we often 
 think." 
 
 " She used to say : ' Miss Agnes will have 
 her reward, mother, for giving up her time to us 
 poor girls and coming to read to her, as you 
 did, hour after hour, all the same whether it was 
 pleasant or stormy walking, too." 
 
 " I have had my reward," the lady said, 
 earnestly, and quickly, too, as if she did not like 
 to listen to her own praise, " knowing that I was 
 a comfort to Mary, and that she left you the 
 precious legacy of her clear, undoubting faith. 
 I 've given up the Bible class,* though did I tell 
 you? and am teaching little people again. I
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 45 
 
 wonder if this young neighbor of yours would not 
 like to join us ? or do you go to Sunday-school 
 already ? " 
 
 " Susie, her name is," said Ruth, by way of 
 introduction, as the child showed a disposition to 
 slide still further behind her old friend, and vanish 
 altogether out of sight on the first opportunity. 
 " Can't you speak to the lady, Susie ? A 
 neighbor's child, ma'am. Her mother always 
 went to St. Peter's church ; and 'twas she that 
 first talked to me about sending Mary to Sunday- 
 school, when she was no bigger than Susie there." 
 
 " And how is it that she does not send her own 
 children ? I don't think I remember Miss Susie's 
 face, though she doesn't intend to let me see it 
 very plainly, I think." 
 
 " Oh, she used to send Margaret the other 
 one always, ma'am ; but that was before your 
 day, Miss Agnes. You never saw her sister, did 
 you ? though she was a great comfort next to 
 you and Mr. Ogden to my poor girl, Mary she 
 used to say he was a minister, that followed his 
 Master in looking after the poor and the sick, if 
 there ever was one. But Susie's sister had to 
 stay at home I was going to tell you after
 
 46 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 awhile, to take care of this one ; and, when you 
 used to come here so much, she never had a 
 minute in the week-days to herself." 
 
 " So her sister used to come to Sunday-school, 
 did she ? and what's to hinder Susie from com 
 ing now ? " 
 
 " Well, I can't say, Miss." And Buth shook 
 her head, in a manner that would not have been 
 very complimentary to the present Mrs. Grant, 
 if understood. 
 
 " Should you like to come ?" And the lady 
 turned to Susie again. 
 
 The child, whose quick sympathies had already 
 gone out to the gentle-looking woman, glanced up 
 eagerly, her large eyes expressing all that her 
 timidity would not allow her to "say. 
 
 " Oh, if she would only let me ! " 
 
 " Her stepmother," Ruth said, in explanation. 
 " Her father is married again. I'm afraid Mrs. 
 Grant won't think she can 'spare her." 
 
 " "Well, suppose I come and see your mother 
 some day when I am in the neighborhood ? Shall 
 I, Susie, and ask her to let you be one of my little 
 people ? " Miss Agnes said, rising to go. 
 
 1 ' If you please ! ' ' And Susie thought that even
 
 MARGARETS HOME. 47 
 
 Mrs. Grant could not refuse a request to one who 
 smiled so pleasantly, and had such a gentle voice 
 though a doubt, which she would not listen to, 
 spoke, at the same time, way down at the bottom 
 of her heart. 
 
 Ruth was more cheery, many a day, for that 
 visit ; and the lady herself went on her way, 
 scarcely heeding how far from home she was, and 
 how rapidly night was falling, in her thankfulness 
 that she had summoned up resolution to go in such 
 inclement weather among the poor and desolate, 
 speaking to them of the Friend who has commend 
 ed all such to " the rich and increased in goods." 
 Pity it is that so few among them remember the 
 loving charge ! 
 
 As for Susie, whatever she had intended to say 
 to her old friend, there was no time for it now. 
 She suddenly remembered her errand abroad, and 
 that it was almost dark, with Mrs. Grant's stray 
 lambs still unsought. 
 
 Washington was rescued from a corner fight 
 with boys much larger than himself, who had torn 
 his apron, and bruised his face, from bad general 
 ship on his part, unworthy of the name he bore. 
 
 Alonzo, generally called " Al," gave less trou-
 
 4:8 .LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 ble in the capture, being engaged with other urch 
 ins, nearer home, in sliding around the hydrant, 
 his little cold hands thrust into the pockets of his 
 ragged trowsers, and his cap pulled down as far 
 as possible, to shield the tip of his round red nose. 
 He had had a very nice time ; but now his feet 
 were chilled, and his hands ached ; so he was just 
 ready to be as cross and sleepy as possible the 
 instant he got into the warm kitchen. 
 
 Susie toiled between her two unsatisfied little 
 taskmasters, until they were fairly in bed, too 
 thankful to escape the scolding for her long ab 
 sence, which she expected every moment from 
 their mother, to remonstrate with them. 
 
 This had been her daily life since the new 
 household rule began not an hour in the twenty- 
 four given her for study or play ; and this it would 
 probably continue, until she should be old enough 
 to learn the threatened trade, still more hateful, 
 in prospect.
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 49 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " SHE was lovely, sister," said Susie, enthusias 
 tically, from her ark of refuge, the bed " almost 
 as pretty as you are." 
 
 She had been trying to describe Ruth's visitor, 
 and her kind way of speaking and looking at her ; 
 but she thought Margaret was not nearly as much 
 interested as she had expected her to be ; but she 
 tried not to feel hurt, because " maybe Margaret 
 had a headache. She often did have, in the busy 
 season, when night came." 
 
 "Was she?" said the elder sister, absently, 
 evidently not having appreciated the compliment 
 ary remark of her one admirer. 
 
 " And she promised to come and ask mother 
 to let me go to Sunday-school. Do you think she 
 will ? Mother I should think she might." 
 
 " I would not think too much of it." 
 
 Margaret made a determined effort to lay aside 
 3
 
 50 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 the troubles of the day, and enter into Susie's 
 plans. 
 
 " What is it like, sister ? Ruth told her you 
 used to go. It must be real nice to sing and say 
 hymns with so many other little girls. I never 
 did know many little girls. 'Most everybody else 
 does. "Why don't you ever let me, Margaret ? " 
 
 Susie's anticipations had made her talkative. 
 
 " Because there are so many bad children play 
 ing about the streets ; and I was afraid you would 
 learn their ways, if I let you play with them, and 
 to say their coarse, rude words, such things as the 
 boys say sometimes, and worse." 
 
 " It 's a great while to wait till some day ; isn't 
 it, sister ? " 
 
 Susie was perfectly satisfied with the expla 
 nation. It was the plan their own mother had 
 followed with Margaret, when poverty forced them 
 into closer contact with sin and ignorance, in turn 
 pursued by her, with Susie. It had preserved 
 the innate ladyhood and refinement of character 
 which the first Mrs. Grant prized next to her faith, 
 and which, in her, sprang from it, as she learned 
 to follow " whatsoever is lovely, and pure, and of 
 good report.'
 
 MAEGAEET'S HOME. 51 
 
 " Suppose I ask for you," said Margaret, " in 
 the morning, if she is pretty good-natured ? Shall 
 I ? That would be better than worrying about it 
 two or three weeks, I think ; and then, if she says 
 ' no,' why, you can put it out of your mind at once ; 
 and it won't be quite such a great disappointment." 
 
 " Oh, I should think she might ! just once a 
 day. I wouldn't ask to go twice." And Susie's 
 tone plainly showed that refusal would be a great 
 disappointment, come when it might. " She never 
 lets me go to church any more, or only once in 
 such a great while. I always thought the children 
 looked so nice coming across the churchyard, two 
 and two, with their teachers walking before them." 
 And the small procession flitted before Susie's 
 imagination, as it had done many a time that 
 evening ; and she heard the patter of little feet 
 crossing the marble pavement of the chancel, and 
 pictured herself close under the protection of her 
 new friend, and holding some good little girl, Mar 
 garet would not be afraid of, tightly by the hand. 
 
 Margaret saw that she was growing restless 
 and excited. 
 
 " It 's high time you were going to sleep, young 
 lady. I'm almost through this great darn that
 
 52 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 spoiled our story to-night. See ! I have a very 
 nice plan. Don't you know she did promise that 
 you could come up to the store, some day, for me? 
 and she can't very well say ' no ' to both things at 
 once. So, if she won't say ' Sunday-school,' I '11 
 ask for a holiday in the afternoon. That will be 
 some comfort ; won't it ? " 
 
 There was a movement in the next room, showing 
 that some one was still busy there, and a light was 
 shining through the crevice of the ill-fitting door. 
 The sisters were evidently accustomed to it, for 
 neither remarked upon the monotonous sound of 
 alternate filing, and tapping, varied by the sharp 
 click, as of some fine machinery, now and then. 
 But, just as Susie turned, for the twentieth time, 
 away from the light, Mr. Grant himself looked 
 hurriedly in, shading his eyes, as if the lamp was 
 too bright for him, or from habit while at his daily 
 occupation. 
 
 " I thought I heard you up yet, Margaret ; 
 just step in here one minute. I 've certainly found 
 out the trouble at last. Come and see how smooth 
 ly it works." 
 
 This was nothing new, either. Her father had 
 been at work upon the model of some new motive-
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 53 
 
 power almost ever since Margaret could remember ; 
 and she had been called on to sympathize with 
 wonderful discoveries and disastrous failures until 
 she had come to have very little faith, or even 
 interest, in Mr. Grant's absorbing occupation. 
 Her mother had filled the post before her, more 
 patiently, but with just as little hope of any good 
 resulting from it. The present Mrs. Grant made 
 no scruple of declaring that " it was a shameful 
 waste of time and money ; and he had better stick 
 to his business." 
 
 The room which had seen such alternation of 
 hope and despondency was smaller than Marga 
 ret's, scarcely more than a light closet. There was 
 a little stove in the centre, the rusty grate showing 
 how rarely it was used. A work-bench, or table, 
 was fitted beneath the window ; and the well-worn 
 leather-covered stool before it was the only other 
 article of furniture. Mr. Grant brushed away the 
 implements scattered upon the bench ; and Mar 
 garet noticed, as he did so, an untouched order in 
 his regular business as repairer and maker of 
 watches, which she knew he had received more 
 than a week before. As he lifted the shade of the 
 spirit-lamp, the strong light flashed full upon his
 
 54: LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 wan face and thin gray hair ; while his sunken 
 eyes burned with the fire of a confirmed enthusiast, 
 scarcely less than the glare of a monomaniac, in 
 the intensity of the moment's excitement. 
 
 " See," he said, touching a small brass model, 
 a complication of wheels and levers, almost as 
 delicate as the mechanism of a watch, and far more 
 intricate ; " it works without that catch now ; that 
 was all that was wanting ; they said so when it 
 was returned from the patent office. See ! quick, 
 Margaret, it does not even shiver, it works so 
 smoothly. See ! see ! " 
 
 Click ! click ! sounded the whirring wheels, as 
 the delicate machinery sped across the table as if 
 attracted by a magnet, then back again as rapidly, 
 without any apparent jar, to its eager inventor, 
 who caught it up, and could have kissed it, as he 
 turned triumphantly to Margaret. 
 
 " There ! It's done at last. It's the work of 
 more years than you are old, child ; one of the 
 most wonderful discoveries man ever made ; the 
 steam-engine would always have been incomplete 
 without it ; Adams allowed that, and Dunlap has 
 pledged himself to get the patent through as soon 
 as I could manage that halt. Don't you see, it's
 
 MAEGAEET'S HOME. 55 
 
 all done away with? don't you see?" he asked 
 again impatiently, eager for new confirmation. 
 
 Margaret tried to understand the oft reiterated 
 explanation of conflicting forces and mechanical 
 laws, that were still a dead letter to her, while her 
 father poured forth his triumphant review of ob 
 stacles encountered and overcome, and the grand 
 results, fame and fortune, that were within his 
 grasp. She would gladly have been less unbe 
 lieving, but she knew how many years had already 
 been wasted, what sums of money wrung from the 
 necessities of the family had been swallowed up in 
 these endless experiments. She would have been 
 still more heavy-hearted, as she looked into that 
 worn, eager face, if she had known, as he did, how 
 nearly he had exhausted the patience and support 
 of the gentlemen he had named, who had been 
 induced to assist him by his own unbounded con 
 fidence of ultimate success. 
 
 It was a story as old as the struggle of human 
 ingenuity with the great mechanical problems 
 which some have conquered, but by far the greater 
 number are mocked by, while time, and means, 
 and life are madly squandered, even reason at last 
 being added to the sacrifice.
 
 56 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 " Yes, father," Margaret said, in his first pause 
 of expectancy ; he would have told it all to the 
 very walls, if there had been no other listener, in 
 his feverish excitement. 
 
 " But you don't see, you won't understand" he 
 cried out, dashing down the graver with which he 
 had been explaining his final success. " Nobody 
 will ! they let Fulton starve, and many a better 
 man go mad, with their blind stupidity! you're 
 like aU the rest ! " 
 
 " But, father," said Margaret soothingly, and 
 laying her hand on his arm, " you cannot expect 
 me really to understand it as you or Mr. Dunlap 
 does ; it seems to run just as smoothly as possible, 
 without that jerking motion it used to have." 
 
 " Does it 2 That's the very thing ! " 
 
 Mr. Grant started up again, catching at this 
 shadow of encouragement. " Of course they'll 
 see it, anybody would, with half an eye, and I 
 can have the drawings ready to send to the patent 
 office in two days. If I only could get them to 
 advance me something to keep body and soul 
 together, with such a fortune as that, in another 
 month, too. You couldn't let me have a dollar or 
 so, could you, Margaret ? "
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 57 
 
 The change from the high proud tone of con 
 scious triumph, to the hesitating request preferred 
 so often before, and now in the half wheedling 
 tone of one accustomed to sue for favors at the 
 risk of refusal, pained Margaret more than her 
 anticipation of a fresh disappointment for him. 
 By this loving and faithful daughter he had never 
 been refused, even to the last coin hoarded for 
 some pressing personal need. She drew out her 
 purse, now, without a word, and almost emptied 
 it into his outstretched hafld ; little enough there 
 was, it is true, and she unconsciously turned away 
 her face, lest she should meet the expression she 
 knew was in his own, half shame, half covetous. 
 It was one of those changes in him, over which 
 she had silent heart-aches, the reverse of his nat 
 urally generous and open nature. 
 
 " Good-night, sir," she said, yielding him the 
 homage of dutiful respect nevertheless ; and then 
 tried to say playfully, "I hope the fortune will 
 come soon, father ; it's almost time Susie was sent 
 to school, if you are going to make a teacher of 
 her as you promised." 
 
 " A lady, Margaret ladies of you both, all in 
 
 good time, all in good time," and Margaret went 
 3*
 
 58 LOSS AND GAIN ; OB, 
 
 back to find Susie still awake, excited by the sound 
 of their voices ; and the hope, notwithstanding 
 repeated warnings, that Mrs. Grant would allow 
 her both the coveted pleasures. She had tried to 
 " make herself go to sleep," but every invalid 
 knows what hard work this sometimes proves, 
 when mind and body are both leagued against 
 unconsciousness. Susie was really an invalid ; 
 though she would not acknowledge to herself, still 
 less to Margaret, how hot and feverish she felt, and 
 how steady and sharp- the pain in her side had 
 become. She knew it would put an end to all 
 expeditions, and though scarcely able to rise when 
 morning came, suffered no complaint to escape 
 her lips.
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 59 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 CONTRARY to her usual custom, and much to 
 Susie's joy, Mrs. Grant made her appearance the 
 next morning before Margaret had finished her 
 solitary breakfast ; and the important request was 
 made at once. It was received much as Margaret 
 had expected. Mrs. Grant expressed her opinion 
 that " Sunday schools were all nonsense ; " and, if 
 she spared Susan to go to church once a day, it 
 was as much as anybody ought to expect of her. 
 The only day in the week, too, when she had five 
 minutes to herself ! 
 
 As to going to the store, " it was just as ridicu 
 lous. What in the world was that child going to 
 do all by herself above the Exchange when she 
 was so dumb she could scarcely find Second Street 
 Market ? But, if Margaret chose to get her into 
 a scrape, she could get her out of it. That was 
 all. She had nothing to say about it. Their father
 
 60 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 never would interfere, but let some people ride 
 over everybody's heads." 
 
 So Margaret left her sister half sorrowful, half 
 comforted, and carried with her her own troubles 
 unshared and unrelieved. She was wronging her 
 self ; but she did not then understand the secret of 
 laying down yesterday's burden, and setting out in 
 the strength of a morning thanksgiving for the bless 
 ings she could number for the day. Old Ruth, 
 watering her geraniums, and peering carefully for 
 withered leaves or promising young buds, hum 
 ming away to herself as she did so, could have 
 taught her this, or rather recalled one of her moth 
 er's earliest lessons. 
 
 But we are all thus inclined to suffer cares and 
 crosses to accumulate before we act upon the prac 
 tical wisdom of the proverb, " Sufficient unto the 
 day is the evil thereof. " 
 
 "Why, therefore, should we do ourselves this wrong, 
 Or others, that we are not always strong, 
 That we are ever overborne with care, 
 
 That we should ever weak or heartless be, 
 
 % 
 
 Anxious or troubled when with us in prayer. 
 And joy, and strength, and courage are with Thee? " 
 
 Of course, Susie thought that the clock had 
 stopped, that three o'clock never would come, that 
 the children had never been so troublesome before.
 
 MAEGAKET'S HOME. 61 
 
 It was a wonderful experience to the child who 
 had never been in the fashionable quarter of the 
 city. Margaret had given her some pennies to 
 pay her omnibus fare as far as the Exchange, and 
 special directions what streets to go through after 
 she left it ; so she started forth very courageously, 
 not at all damped by Mrs. Grant's ungracious 
 looks," and speedily found her way into Second 
 Street where she was to take the omnibus. But 
 one after another passed ; and she still stood on 
 the corner, unable to summon sufficient courage 
 to stop one. Her faint signals were disregarded ; 
 and the great, noisy vehicles rolled on, while the 
 short afternoon was getting still shorter. 
 
 Presently, to her dismay, she saw a great rough 
 boy, who had been watching her as he came along, 
 swinging an empty basket on his arm, halt directly 
 in front of her, with a look that made her very 
 uncomfortable. The next omnibus had just made 
 its appearance in the distance ; and she had gone 
 out to the very edge of the curbstone, resolved 
 not to be left this time. 
 
 " I thought as much," said the boy, coming 
 closer still. " Shall I stop her for you ? " 
 
 Susie eyed him doubtfully from under her
 
 62 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 hood ; but lie looked very good-natured ; and she 
 nodded yes, though putting the lamp-post between 
 them to make assurance double sure. " How nice 
 it must be not to feel afraid of any thing ! " she 
 thought, as the boy sang out : " Hulloo ! stop 
 them gay horses of youm, and take in this little 
 girl, old Six-on-a-side ! " 
 
 How could she ever climb up that great* step ? 
 But an old gentleman inside lifted her up, and 
 deposited her on a seat by him, as if she had been 
 no heavier than a baby. 
 
 The omnibus was full, as Second Street omni 
 buses always are ; and, if it had not been for this 
 new protector, she might have stood up all the 
 way. Three stout huckster-women, with baskets 
 as portly as themselves, were going as far as the 
 market, having just come from a Red Bank ferry 
 boat with supplies for the early opening of Wed 
 nesday morning. They nodded to each other over 
 their double chins, and talked about the early 
 " cold snap," and the effect it w r ould have on the 
 price of butter and eggs at Christmas. Then there 
 was a pale man buttoned up to his chin, in a thread 
 bare overcoat, and seeming in a great hurry to get 
 to his journey's end. Every time a passenger
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 63 
 
 showed a disposition to get out or in, he pulled 
 the check-string, and asked the driver if he " could 
 n't hurry up," which of course delayed him by 
 just so many seconds. 
 
 Susie noted all these things with wide-open, 
 curious eyes, as young travellers are inclined to 
 scan all they chance to meet with. She did not 
 at all fancy the young girl in a showy plaid dress, 
 without gloves, and having a great many rings on 
 her hands, and an enormous brooch, with purple 
 stones in it, fastening her shawl at the throat. Her 
 nearest neighbor, who looked scarcely older 
 though she held a dear little baby all wrapped up 
 in a flannel blanket bound with pink ribbon drew 
 herself away as far as possible from the plaid dress, 
 and curls, and bold black eyes, and talked a great 
 deal to a young man, her husband, who seemed 
 very proud of her and the baby too. Susie liked 
 them better than any of the rest, excepting always 
 her protector, towards whom she nestled occasion 
 ally to reassure herself in this close contact with 
 so many strange faces. The old gentleman watched 
 them too, for it was a pleasant thing to see the 
 young mother pull down a corner of the blanket 
 every now and then, and look admiringly on the
 
 64: LOSS AND GAIN; OE, 
 
 placid little face in its thulle-bordered cap, then 
 up at her husband with a shy, happy smile ; while 
 he, pretending to think her a foolish child, contrived 
 to get a peep at the little one himself on every 
 opportunity. 
 
 So the omnibus rattled on past the market 
 where the stout women got out, and lifted their 
 baskets after them, to the terror of the young ' 
 mother and the danger of Susie's hood, which was 
 knocked over her eyes unceremoniously past 
 furniture warehouses and ready-made clothing 
 establishments, and finally swung round into the 
 noisy, clattering Square of the Exchange. 
 
 The old gentleman did not forget Susie, but 
 paid her fare with his own, just as she began to 
 feel quite miserable at the impossibility of reaching 
 the driver's hand, even though she mounted a seat, 
 and stood on tiptoe. She tendered the three pen 
 nies he had advanced very gratefully ; but he 
 bade her keep such small change for herself, and 
 posted away up "Walnut Street as briskly as many 
 a far younger man could do. 
 
 Susie wished he had taken the same way she 
 must pass, through the rabble of newsboys she 
 was destined to encounter, shouting, " Evening
 
 MAKGAEET'S HOME. 65 
 
 Bulletin ! Arrival of the steamer ! " in their shrill, 
 locust-like voices. A great many gentlemen were 
 hurrying along the narrow pavement, scarcely 
 looking to the right or left ; and she was almost 
 breathless when she turned the corner, and came 
 suddenly into Chestnut Street, with its gay shops 
 and beautiful women sauntering slowly along in 
 strange contrast to the bustle and fever their hus 
 bands and fathers lived in from morning till night. 
 
 No wonder that the child was fascinated, and 
 listened, and forgot her errand, as the bright pan 
 orama of shop-windows seemed to stretch away 
 endlessly ; while the stream of passers-by mingled 
 and swept past in endless variety of light and 
 shade, confusing, dazzling, and bewildering her, 
 whichever way she looked. 
 
 It was growing dusky and very cold in the 
 street before Susie could " turn away her eyes 
 from beholding vanities," and hurry on towards 
 the more quiet vicinity of Churchill & Choate's. 
 She had no idea that she should find one of those 
 great establishments that had so fascinated her, and 
 stood looking up and down the street for some hum 
 bler place of trade at the very threshold which Mar 
 garet had just left, after an anxious watch for her.
 
 66 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 There were several handsome carriages drawn 
 up to the pavement ; and, while she stood watch 
 ing the long, brilliantly lighted vista within, and 
 thinking dismally that she must have lost her way, 
 and what was to become of her, a still more showy 
 equipage stopped close beside her. 
 
 " Churchill's, ma'am," the driver said, as he 
 opened the door, and touched his hat respectfully. 
 
 Churchill's ! Why, so it was ! She could make 
 out the great white letters above the door now. 
 Oh, how handsome it was ! Susie's heart gave a 
 great bound of delight, partly that she had reached 
 her journey's end in safety, but quite as much of 
 pleasure and satisfaction that Margaret had such 
 a nice place to stay in all day. Yet Margaret 
 wasn't in the least proud. 
 
 All this was suddenly clouded by a recollection 
 that she had still to make her way among all those 
 people, and with such a bright light right in her 
 face, to Margaret's counter, wherever that was. 
 How should she ever find her ? There seemed, as 
 she looked in again still more wistfully, to be two 
 or three stores branching oif in all directions from 
 the great high desk in the middle, where the. odd 
 little man stood, counting out change, and scratch 
 ing away in the great book before him.
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 67 
 
 The lady swept past lier with, a great rustle of 
 flounces ; and with her came a little girl about 
 Susie's age, though dressed almost as elaborately 
 as her mother. Though astonished at her magnifi 
 cence, Susie decided, from a glimpse at the face 
 of this miniature fashion-plate, that it was a little 
 girl ; and it gave her courage to follow them in, 
 and part way up the centre of the store, where 
 they suddenly disappeared down one of the branch 
 ing departments, leaving her in great doubt and 
 perplexity. 
 
 There were several boys running about with 
 slips of paper and bank-bills in their hands. She 
 ventured to speak to one of them, ashamed to be 
 seen standing still, as if she had no business there. 
 " Do you know where my sister is ? " And, faint 
 as the voice was, the sound of it frightened her 
 still more. 
 
 The youngster looked at her curiously for a 
 minute, and then brushed roughly by, saying: 
 " How do I know who your sister is ? " 
 
 He was much better dressed ; but Susie prefer 
 red her friend of the market-basket. 
 
 The little scene had, however, attracted the 
 attention of a tall young man, who walked up to
 
 68 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 her, making a most profound bow. Susie instantly 
 thought it must be Mr. Churchill himself ; he had 
 such shining black hair, such superb whiskers ; and 
 his hand, ornamented with a large seal ring, looked 
 as white as Margaret's. " May I ask who the 
 young lady is inquiring for ? " he said, with another 
 flourish, and a signal to some one behind the coun 
 ter. 
 
 " Margaret," the child answered, taught by 
 experience that possibly the whole world might 
 not know who " sister " was ; though it seemed 
 strange that the great fact of her life should be un 
 familiar here. " Will you tell me where she is, sir ? " 
 
 " Margaret ? Lovely name ! " said the young 
 man, in a tone that made Susie feel more uncom 
 fortable still. " There happen to be several young 
 ladies in Philadelphia so fortunate as to be called 
 by it, four or five of 'em here. Suppose you 
 couldn't give any further particulars ? " 
 
 He stood directly in front of her, and made 
 such elaborate flourishes that she knew very well, 
 apart from the little laugh from behind the coun 
 ter, that he was only pretending to help her ; so 
 she stood for a moment at bay, uncertain whether 
 to dart past him, and run off into the cold and
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 69 
 
 darkness, or cry where she stood. She began to 
 feel her fatigue now ; and the bright lights and 
 confusion of the store were bewildering. 
 
 " What 's all this ? " some one said, coming up 
 behind her tormentor, who started at the voice. 
 
 His very attitude grew respectful as he an 
 swered : " Only some poor child, sir, asking for 
 one of the girls." 
 
 " And you were too busy to attend to her, it 
 appears ? " said the gentleman, who did not look 
 half so severe as his tone made her expect that he 
 would when she ventured to look up ; and that 
 was softened as he spoke to her. 
 
 " "Who shall I find for you ? We will not 
 trouble this gentleman any longer." 
 
 " I wanted to see my sister Margaret, sir 
 Margaret Grant ; she sells dresses ; she told me to 
 come for her," said Susie, apologetically. 
 
 " Miss Grant ? " (Susie ventured another look, 
 and thought he did not seem very much offended 
 at her intrusion.) " This way. If you had come 
 in the Arch Street door, you would have been close 
 by her. But never mind : here she is looking 
 for you, I dare say." 
 
 Margaret's thoughts, just at that moment, were
 
 70 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 certainly more with her little sister, wandering up 
 and down the dark streets, than the rich brocade 
 she was mechanically showing off to the best ad 
 vantage. The quick exclamation, " Oh, my dar 
 ling !" as she caught sight of the child, expressed 
 at once her anxiety and her thankfulness, both of 
 which were so great that she did not notice who 
 had been Susie's guide through the intricacies of 
 shelves and counters ; and, when the child had 
 squeezed her hand in speechless delight at being 
 under her sister's protection once more, the gentle 
 man had gone away without waiting to be thanked. 
 
 " One moment, Susie ; curl yourself up in the 
 corner, dear," was all Margaret had time to say. 
 
 " Two and a quarter ? " inquired the lady to 
 whom she was showing the silk, impatient of the 
 little interruption. 
 
 " Two and a quarter, that is it," said Margaret. 
 
 " Don't you think it's rather high ? " 
 
 " One of our newest importations, ma'am. Mr. 
 Churchill selected it himself, while away ; he 
 chooses all our evening dresses." 
 
 " Do you think it would be becoming to me ? " 
 The lady was one of those who ask everybody's 
 opinion on their dress, from their husband to the
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 71 
 
 chambermaid, but always end in following their 
 own. She was neither young, nor pretty. Mar 
 garet could not help fancying the figure she would 
 be, in a pale rose-colored brocade, intended for a 
 young girl of nineteen, but her honesty had daily 
 and hourly such trials. 
 
 "As becoming as any thing else would be," she 
 thought, but said : " I suppose it is for Mrs. Flag's 
 ball, we have sold several dresses for it to-day. I 
 believe her rooms are always well-lighted ; this silk 
 needs a good light." 
 
 " Yes," said the lady, forgetting in her curiosity, 
 as to who had purchased dresses for the great ball, 
 and what they were going to wear, that Margaret 
 had evaded her question. " Mrs. John Thompson 
 is one of your customers, isn't she ? " 
 
 Not condescending to question openly, Mrs. 
 Flag's invited guest did not hesitate to put leading 
 questions. Adelaide Long, standing idly by, and 
 covertly ridiculing the dress, manners, and lan 
 guage of the lady to Ellen Bbyne, would have 
 launched forth instantly on a flood of welcome gos 
 sip. Next to home servants, the clerks in a store 
 like this, know more of society and its affairs, 
 particularly if they are women, who have an 
 instinctive talent for putting this and that together.
 
 72 LOSS AND GAIN: OK, 
 
 At Lowry's, for instance, those plainly-dressed, 
 quiet-looking women, take your measure at a 
 glance, as you walk in at the door. They know 
 whether you are a stranger in town, or only to its 
 fashionable quarter. You might purchase the 
 most costly article in their charge, and it would 
 not alter their opinion of your standing one whit. 
 
 If you are a Philadelphian, and do not visit 
 Mrs. Flag, or show any ignorance of such old fam 
 ily names as are to them daily food, they will 
 wait on you attentively, it is true, but with that 
 distant though perfect civility which marks the 
 attentions of a superior. They would not them 
 selves change places with you in the social scale, 
 for they are in daily and familiar intercourse with 
 the people you scarcely know by sight. You can 
 not help feeling the bow, with which they hand 
 you your change, and resume immediately the 
 conversation or employment which your appear 
 ance interrupted. They hold Mrs. Tom Baker, 
 quoted as she is in some circles, as a parvenu, and 
 could detail any step of her rise in society, from 
 the time she moved into Spruce Street, and took 
 a pew in St. Peter's Church, up to the final coup 
 d'etat by which she accomplished the entree to
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 73 
 
 Mrs. Flag's receptions, and thus settled the doubt 
 ful point of her position triumphantly. 
 
 It is by no means a " pursuit of knowledge 
 under difficulties " with them. Mrs. Flag talks to 
 the young gentlemen friends always hanging about 
 her in shopping hours, and specifies any name 
 whose pretensions she intends to wither, and others 
 that shall be graciously permitted to flourish in 
 the light of her countenance. Mrs. Tom Baker 
 follows, and complains to her daquer, little Miss 
 Smith, of the neglect and slights of her late New 
 port intimates : breaks off in the selection of her 
 gloves to exclaim : " Oh, and about that horrid 
 affair of Augustus Middleton," and gives place to 
 Mrs. Middleton's intimate friend who is fresh from 
 a long recital of the whole affair, and says to her 
 companion : " Isn't it distressing ? poor Mrs. Mid 
 dleton looked as if she had not slept a wink all 
 night," (which do you prefer, my dear, plum-color 
 or tan ?) " and there must be a divorce, I think." 
 
 But it is quite time that we return to the hum 
 bler aspirations of Mrs. George Anthony Bond, 
 well known to them also, by her costly purchases, 
 and her endeavors to make them understand that 
 
 she is perfectly au fait to the movements of all 
 4
 
 74: LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 these great people, by continually quoting their 
 dress, or doings. She is not successful, however, 
 for they are as well aware as she is herself, that 
 she once gave music lessons to Mrs. Tom Baker's 
 younger sisters, and taught the Miss Burneys draw 
 ing. 
 
 Margaret least of any perhaps, in the throng 
 of attendants at Churchill & Choate's, busied her 
 self with these absorbing topics, and therefore it 
 was not simply a stroke of policy with her to 
 suppose that the elegantly dressed lady she served, 
 was a visitor of Mrs. Flag's. Next to receiving 
 an invitation, it was supremely delightful to be 
 supposed entitled to one, and Mrs. Bond immedi 
 ately decided to have the brocade ; though from 
 another point of weakness in her character, a fancy 
 for paying a little less than the price demanded 
 for any article, she did not manifest her intentions 
 at once. 
 
 Susie, watching these proceedings from behind 
 the counter, was more particularly interested in 
 the dress and conduct of Miss Ida Frances, who 
 accompanied her mamma. She had never before 
 seen a little girl of her own age so handsomely 
 dressed, except at a distance, in church perhaps ;
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 75 
 
 and Margaret had always taught her that there, it 
 was not right to notice or comment on such things. 
 Miss Ida, tired of .settling her pompadour pink bon 
 net, and ermine tippet, in the great mirror let into 
 the wall behind Margaret, began to think it was 
 high time her wants received some attention. 
 " Mamma, mamma ! " she began, twitching her 
 mother's sleeve, " come, I want to know what I 'm 
 going to have ? " 
 
 " Look for yourself, Ida ; can't you ? Don't 
 bother me ! " 
 
 The tone was quite as pettish and familiar as 
 the child's. Susie, expecting to hear a sharp repri 
 mand at least, opened her eyes wide, and looked 
 at Margaret to see if she was not equally astonished ; 
 but Margaret had seen such " honoring of father 
 and mother " before. 
 
 " Show me something pretty," the child said 
 imperiously, to Ellen Boyne, while Addy Long 
 suggested in an undertone that she needed " whip 
 ping and putting to bed." 
 
 " Oh, how lovely," thought Susie, as a crimson 
 mousseline, with a tiny black figure was opened 
 temptingly upon the counter, "I'm sure she'll 
 take that ! Only think that she can choose for
 
 76 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 herself ; she can't find any thing prettier than that, 
 I guess." 
 
 " Not a mousseline ! " And the despised fabric 
 was tossed contemptuously aside. " I 've got 
 plenty of school-dresses. I want a party dress 
 too." 
 
 So she went to parties. What kind of parties 
 could they be where that crimson mousseline was 
 not good enough to wear ? 
 
 But, while Susie thus commented wonderingly 
 to herself, Mrs. Bond had discovered that Margaret 
 really meant what she said ; that two dollars and 
 a quarter a yard was the very least the silk could 
 be had for, directed it to be cut, and turned her 
 attention to Miss Ida, who had chosen a plaid glace, 
 in which the gayest colors were mingled. 
 
 " Oh, you extravagant little thing ! You '11 
 ruin your father ! " And Mrs. Bond upraised her 
 well-gloved hands in a pretty affectation of dis 
 may. 
 
 "That's what he says about somebody else, 
 every day," retorted the child, pertly. " It isn't 
 but just half as much as yours." 
 
 " Well, only don't tell him what it cost, or mine 
 either. How do you know what I gave? Ann
 
 HOME. 77 
 
 will have to make it for you. I must save some 
 how." 
 
 " No, Ann shan't. She spoiled my taiieton 
 with the tucks. Ann doesn't know anything. All 
 the girls at our school go to Miss Singer, and I 
 shall, too." 
 
 " What are children coming to ? " Mrs. Bond 
 said to Margaret, in smiling approval, evidently 
 delighted with her daughter's fashionable predilec 
 tions, though pretending to disclaim all part or lot 
 in this precious development. 
 
 " What, indeed ? " thought Margaret, glancing 
 from the bold, over-dressed little puppet to her 
 shy, patient sister in the corner, and wondering 
 what effect the example might have. 
 
 Susie watched the miniature woman of fashion 
 to the very door, and then turned to Margaret with 
 an odd little sigh ; but Margaret's time and atten 
 tion were again engaged. She was most grateful 
 to the good-natured Marianne, who came and sat 
 down by her, and to Ellen Boyne, who hunted up 
 some pretty embossed and gilt papers, giving her, 
 besides, an empty glove-box, with a gay picture 
 on the lid, to put them in. They were real treas 
 ures to Susie ; and she turned them over, and ad-
 
 78 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 mired them, trying not to feel tired ; but she could 
 not help wishing, every time she thought of the 
 long walk before her, that she should be glad when 
 they were safe home, even with the prospect of 
 Margaret for a companion. 
 
 The store was closed at last ; and Margaret's 
 cheerful " Come now, Susie " roused the child 
 from the first bewildering drowsiness of approach 
 ing sleep. 
 
 Tired little feet ! lagging wearily behind Mar 
 garet's brisk step, quickened by the fresh air after 
 a long day's imprisonment ; shivering little figure ! 
 wrapping the thin shawl closer and closer as the 
 cold wind swept around the corner, and down the 
 cross streets, in their very faces ! weary little head ! 
 beginning to wonder already over the great social 
 problem of rich and poor. Struggle on a little 
 longer with the strange numbing apathy creeping 
 on ! Yery still and straight those failing limbs 
 may lie ere long. 
 
 The gleaming light of the apothecary's window 
 on the corner streamed out with strange, ghastly 
 tints over the icy pavement that well-known land 
 mark never so joyfully hailed as now. 
 
 " I do hope the boys will be in bed, sister ;
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. Y9 
 
 don't you ? " And the great shivering sigh that 
 could not be kept back any longer told, more plain 
 ly than any complaining, why she hoped so. 
 
 " Are you so very tired ? poor little Susie ! 
 Why didn't you tell me so, dear, at the Exchange ? 
 and we could have taken an omnibus." 
 
 "I heard you tell the good-natured girl that 
 you didn't have any money when she asked you 
 to lend her some ; and I didn't like to, sister." 
 
 Margaret's heart smote her with thoughtless 
 ness, selfishness it seemed ; she had been so glad 
 of the exercise, and was so warmly wrapped up in 
 the heavy blanket shawl. Susie's side, too ! 
 
 " Does your side ache badly ? " and she put 
 her arm around the frail little figure, and almost 
 carried her along. 
 
 Susie leaned heavily upon the welcome support. 
 
 " A little bit ; but we are almost home now ; 
 ain't we ? Won't the fire feel good ? " 
 
 The hope of finding quiet and rest, as well as 
 warmth, was vain. The boys were not in bed, and 
 evidently had been celebrating that juvenile car 
 nival known as " turning the house upside down," 
 Mrs. Grant having been too busy to care what 
 happened in the unusual exertion of ironing, and
 
 80 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 amusing her baby at the same time. The chairs 
 were in the middle of the floor, harnessed for an 
 omnibus by innumerable twists and knottings of 
 the clothes-line, with a rocking-chair for a leader. 
 This spirited team had been for some time deserted ; 
 and Al was walking about in his father's apparel, 
 the boots up to his knees, and the tails of the coat 
 sweeping the floor, the only drawback on his en 
 joyment being that the hat would fall over his eyes 
 at every step. Washington, following after, and 
 teazing him to play " Indian," a favorite pastime 
 with him, since he could make more noise " whoop 
 ing " than in any other way, pounced upon Susie 
 the instant she appeared. 
 
 " Shan't Susie play Injun with me ? Say, ma ! " 
 shouted the young tyrant, as she shook him off 
 with a faint " Oh, don't, Al ! Do let ine be ! " 
 
 Margaret had hurried up stairs, seeing the 
 lowering look which greeted their entrance, that 
 she might be ready to give Susie the help and 
 comfort she stood in need of. 
 
 Susie coveted only to sit quietly down behind 
 the warm stove, and looked around in dismay. 
 She wondered what made" her feel so dizzy, as the 
 red heat of the ironing fire flashed, into her face.
 
 MAKGAEET'S HOME. 81 
 
 The spoiled child's appeal was made at an un 
 fortunate moment. Mrs. Grant, tired and angry, 
 fretted by the noise and the worry of the baby, 
 was even less placable then usual. She was going 
 for a hot iron as the boy tugged at the skirt of her 
 dress, and shouted again : " Say, ma ! shan't Susie 
 play Injun with me ? " 
 
 The tired child saw the angry look, the upraised 
 hand with which Mrs. Grant came towards her ; 
 but she had not strength to get out of her way, 
 scarcely to shrink from her. 
 
 " Good-for-nothing, lazy little piece ! " And 
 then came a blow on the ear that made the whole 
 room reel, and took her breath away. 
 
 That strange, blind, suffocating feeling ! Susie 
 thought it must be dying, and almost hoped it was. 
 The light, the stove, the children, swam before her 
 eyes as she fell to the floor, her head striking against 
 the table ; and then all was darkness no pain, no 
 outcry as she lay at the angry woman's feet. 
 
 Presently, she was conscious of lying in Mar 
 garet's lap, and thought she heard her sister saying, 
 as if she had been far off, " You have killed her at 
 last ! " and the boys crying with fright, but all so 
 
 far away. She could not open her eyes, or move, 
 4*
 
 82 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 or speak ; and she thought perhaps this was "being 
 dead, as her father and Margaret lifted her, and 
 carried her up stairs to the bed. She felt drops of 
 water falling on her forehead or was it Margaret's 
 tears ? felt them slowly trickle down her cheek ; 
 and then she seemed to sleep, and forget every 
 thing again.
 
 MAEGAEET'S HOME. 83 
 
 OHAPTEE VI. 
 
 MES. GEANT, wliose conscience was soothed by 
 a good night's rest, called the child as usual when 
 daylight came. Margaret had watched with sleep 
 less love and sorrow over the wan face, flushed 
 into fever by midnight, and changing in restless, 
 torturous dreams. She knew that the faintness was 
 only a token of some deep-seated malady threaten 
 ing her sister. " She can't get up. Please don't 
 wake her," she said, as Mrs. Grant, muttering some 
 thing about " knowing the reason of all these airs," 
 appeared in her early morning deshabille. 
 
 Susie, startled by their voices, started from her 
 pillow, and tried to spring out of bed ; but the 
 movement awakened a piercing, agonizing pain ; 
 and Margaret, made determined by her fears, dress 
 ed hurriedly, and went herself for a physician. 
 
 " I don't see how Pm to -blame," said Mrs. 
 Grant to her husband, later in the day.
 
 84: LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 Susie had fallen asleep again, with the appli 
 cation of a blister to her side ; and Margaret, 
 unwilling to leave her, had felt compelled to go, 
 nevertheless. 
 
 " Because Margaret chose to drag her oif to 
 that store, cold as it was, and I happened to box 
 her ears for being so cross, just as the stove made 
 her sick ! How should I know she was going to 
 faint away ? " 
 
 " But the doctor says it must have been coming 
 on some time," returned her husband, roused from 
 his usual apathy by Susie's suffering and danger. 
 " He says she must have strained her side some 
 how. I always thought Leander was too heavy 
 for her." 
 
 " See here, now ! leave me tell you, once for 
 all ; I ain't goin' to be found fault with any longer. 
 It 's new capers for you, anyhow ; and it 's bad 
 enough to have that child sick up stairs, and every 
 stitch to do myself, and her to wait on into the 
 bargain." 
 
 Mrs. Grant's voice began to break into the 
 complaining whimper which her husband dreaded 
 more than its higher key, because from this there 
 was no appeal.
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME* 85 
 
 " Well, Jane, I was only going to say" he 
 began, more humbly : 
 
 " I don't see what right you have to say any 
 thing, you, of all people. Wasn't I making money 
 at a good trade when I married you ? and didn't 
 you bring me here to do nothing but slave, and be 
 put upon, and rode over by that high-strung daugh 
 ter of yours ? And here I work, and work, and 
 work from morning till night, and no thanks from 
 nobody ; while you're idling round, and taking the 
 very bread out of my mouth with them ridiculous 
 patterns and machines of your 'n." 
 
 Mrs. Grant's feelings entirely overcame her ; 
 and she set down the flat-iron she was using, on the 
 pound weight which did duty as a stand, and her 
 self in a Boston rocking-chair. 
 
 Mr. Grant scorned to defend his beloved pur 
 suits to one so utterly without comprehension of 
 them, and forbore to attempt consolation, in the 
 fear of making a bad matter worse. 
 
 "If there's anything I hate," continued his 
 wife, in the same miserable tone, and rocking vio 
 lently, the more effectually to compose her excited 
 feelings, " it 's a sick person in the house. It makes 
 me so low-spirited ; and, though that child don't
 
 86 LOSS AND GAIN ; OK, 
 
 earn her salt, nor never did, every step counts, I 
 tell you ; though there 's no use of telling you. 
 Men never realize such things. No ; I guess they 
 don't. They wouldn't care if a woman worked 
 and worked till she dropped, so long as they was 
 made comfortable. If I 'd only knowed how things 
 was goin', I never would have got myself into the 
 scrape, you may depend ! and I earning my three 
 and four dollars a week, and wearing my silks and 
 satins ! I haven't had the first thing like other 
 folks since I came into this house ; and you know 
 it ; and now you undertake to blame me." 
 
 So ended Mr. Grant's first and last attempt to 
 interfere in Susie's behalf; and it was through 
 such scenes as this, of almost daily occurrence, that 
 Margaret, with her love of all that was gentle and 
 refined, had come almost to hate her home. True 
 to her first resolves, she seldom suffered herself to 
 be drawn into contending with her step-mother ; 
 nor had she the vulgar prejudice which holds all 
 who bear that much abused title, monsters of neg 
 lect and cruelty. Mrs. Grant, in any other situa 
 tion, would have been just what nature and 
 association had made her, a selfish, coarse, unedu 
 cated person, who had no other idea of influence
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 87 
 
 than wheedling or complaining, and could not 
 understand Margaret's patient forbearance of word 
 and deed in any other light than pride and deter 
 mined obstinacy. It was a misfortune that the two 
 natures had ever come in contact, unless, indeed, 
 the attrition had been needed to heighten the 
 sterling gold of the young girl's character and 
 disposition. 
 
 Susie's illness was pronounced pleurisy, need 
 ing great care ; though if the violence of the first 
 attack was subdued, there would be no immediate 
 danger. This was said before her, though Margaret 
 tried to prevent any expression of the doctor's 
 opinion until they were down stairs again. She 
 knew the nervous excitability of his patient, and 
 understood, if he did not, why the fever remained 
 unchecked at the end of the third day. 
 
 " Oh, sister, if you could only stay with me ! " 
 Susie said, the instant he was out of hearing. 
 " Medicine won't do any good. It 's so lonesome ! 
 and my head aches so, counting the window-panes, 
 and the knobs on the bureau-drawers, and the 
 cracks in the wall, over, and over, and over again ! 
 I try not to ; and I say the multiplication-table, 
 and ' The House that Jack built,' and all sorts of
 
 88 LOSS AND GAIN ; OK, 
 
 things, backwards and forwards, and hold my eyes 
 down. But I can't go to sleep. They fly right 
 up ; and I begin again." 
 
 " I know it is hard," said Margaret, trying to 
 smooth put the tangles of her soft, fair hairf mat- 
 ted with tossing from side to side all day. 
 
 " The pillow gets so hot, and the bed so hard, 
 before night comes ! and the clothes slip down on 
 the floor, and my head aches as though it would 
 burst." 
 
 " Do I hurt your head now, dear ? " 
 
 Margaret could scarcely keep her voice from 
 trembling. It was such a miserable picture, the 
 child's long, lonely day ; and yet she did not see 
 how it could be otherwise. 
 
 " Oh no, sister ! Nothing you do ever hurts 
 me, not even dressing iny blister. Your hand is 
 so cool and nice, it makes my head better. What 
 made the doctor ask you how mother died,*and if 
 I was like her, to-night ? " 
 
 " Did you hear him ? " asked Margaret, startled, 
 for she did not think Susie would understand the 
 doctor's opinion, that the constitutional delicacy 
 she inherited was the worst feature of the -case. 
 
 " I can't help hearing everything, Maggie. It
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 89 
 
 seems as if I could hear twice as well as before I 
 was sick. Every sound goes through and through 
 my head ; and Al and Washington have had to 
 stay in these rainy days ; and then I can hear 
 father and mother talk when he conies in ; and she 
 says such ugly things about you, it makes me feel 
 so wicked ! " 
 
 " Never mind me." Margaret checked Susie 
 quickly. She knew it would do her no good to 
 listen to Mrs. Grant's opinion of her, much as she 
 desired to distract Susie's thoughts from herself. 
 " I '11 ask mother if she can't keep the boys a little 
 quieter ; shall I ? and maybe father will stay at 
 home again, and work, as soon as he has seen all 
 those gentlemen. That will be a great deal of 
 company for you." 
 
 " Oh, I don't care about the boys so much, 
 except when I am trying to go to sleep ! but I do 
 wish she wouldn't sit right down by the stairs, and 
 talk to old Mrs. Devine about that woman that 
 died. Mrs. Devine has been in every day ; and 
 they talk and talk about sick people, and dead 
 people, and laying them out I believe Mrs. De- 
 vine likes to and how they look after it. Oh, I 
 can't bear ! " And Susie's slight frame quiv-
 
 90 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 ered as she buried her face in the pillow to shut 
 out some terrible sight. 
 
 " There ! there, darling ! " said Margaret, sooth 
 ingly ; " there's nothing dreadful about the dead. 
 Don't you remember that, when you were a little 
 thing, you used to like me to tell you about our 
 mother in her white dress, and her hands folded, 
 as if she was praying for father and us ? and the 
 white roses, Susie, that Ruth brought and put by 
 them ? and how her mouth seemed to smile the 
 very last time we looked at her ? " 
 
 " But then I went to a funeral, you know, sister," 
 said Susie, starting up again, " when Anne Lyons 
 died. She looked so hollow and dreadful in the 
 coffin ; and everybody that was there, whether 
 they knew her or not, came and looked at her, and 
 said just what they pleased about her. I couldn't 
 bear to think people were going to look at me so, 
 Maggie." 
 
 " They never should ; but you 're not going to 
 die now, dear." 
 
 " I think I am, though, almost all the time, or 
 the doctor would not talk about mother. And I '11 
 tell you what 's the very worst thing of all. "When 
 it getsd arker and darker up here, and it isn't time
 
 MAEGAUET'S HOME. 91 
 
 for you yet, and the boys go to bed, it 's so dread 
 fully still down stairs, and in the front room, and 
 everywhere ; then I get so frightened ; and I think 
 what if I should die, and they let old Mrs. Devine 
 come and lay me out ! and then she should talk 
 about me to other people so, and say whether I 
 looked natural or not ! " 
 
 " Don't ! hush, Susie ! please don't ! " said Mar 
 garet, crying silently in spite of herself. 
 
 " But I can't help it, Maggie. I try, and try, 
 and hide my head under the bed-clothes ; and then 
 I imagine that I am buried ; and I have such a 
 dreadful, suffocating feeling ; and it seems as if 
 you never would come. Oh, dear ! dear ! " And 
 the child, fairly beside herself with recounting the 
 terrors of darkness, flung her arms about wildly, 
 and sobbed as if her heart would break. 
 
 " You must not ! indeed you must not, sister ! 
 You are making yourself a great deal worse," said 
 Margaret, taking Susie's hands in her own, and 
 stroking them caressingly. Every word had pierc 
 ed her own heart, for, though she could not blame 
 Mrs. Grant, borne down by household cares, and 
 fretted by her father's inefficiency, she could not 
 but think how different it would have been were
 
 92 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 her own mother living she who accomplished so 
 much so noiselessly, who upheld her father, and 
 never upbraided him the gentlest and tenderest 
 of nurses. She remembered her own childish sick 
 ness, and how she had been rocked in her mother's 
 arms, and soothed in pain which was nothing to 
 that which Susie bore so patiently as only a moth 
 er can soothe, with soft kisses on her forehead, and, 
 best of all, those low, old-fashioned hymns. 
 
 " Shall I sing for you, Susie, when I make the 
 clothes all straight and comfortable ? Mother 
 used to sing to me when I was sick ; and I remem 
 ber how it used to put me to sleep when nothing 
 else did. I wouldn't think any thing more about 
 these things to-night : and to-morrow I '11 try and 
 see if Ruth can't come and sit with you awhile. 
 Shall I?" 
 
 But Susie only sobbed the faster ; and Marga 
 ret, still brushing back the hair from the child's 
 forehead, drew her head from the weary pillow to 
 her bosom, and sang the dear old cradle hymns, 
 as if she were hushing a baby to sleep. 
 
 The tears lay still, after a time, on the burning 
 cheeks ; the grieving, quivering sighs came at 
 longer intervals ; and Susie was comforted.
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 93 
 
 But for Margaret there was no rest that night. 
 She had to struggle with rebellions thoughts : 
 " Why should that innocent child suffer so much ? 
 Why must she be so helpless to relieve her ? " still 
 shrinking from the trial of her faith, and thinking, 
 as all do who question our Father's wiser choices, 
 that she could bear any other trouble better than 
 the one he had sent to chasten her, forgetting, as 
 we all do, until the proud will, bending, suffers 
 the Comforter to call to remembrance, that the 
 sorrow is from Him who doth not grieve willingly. 
 Yague wishes and plans floated in feverish con 
 fusion through her mind ; and the consciousness 
 of the child's lonely suffering never left her, even 
 in snatches of restless sleep. She was thankful 
 for the first sickly dawn of day. The darkness 
 had to her, as well as Susie, phantoms of its own. 
 
 The heavy head of the little sleeper turned 
 wakefully upon her pillow. 
 
 " Better this morning, I'm sure," her loving 
 nurse said, as cheerfully as she could. " Your 
 head is cooler ; and you slept more quietly than 
 you have done since you were sick." 
 
 " It must have been because you sang to me, 
 then," said Susie, gratefully. " Stoop down, and
 
 94: LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 let me kiss you. Oh, I do love you so mucli! 
 Why, you're all dressed ? Have I slept so late ? 
 But your eyes look tired." 
 
 " Do they ? I must be getting old that's it 
 and you see the wrinkles. See how much better 
 I shall look when I've brushed my hair. It wasn't 
 done very smoothly ; was it ? " 
 
 She did not care that Susie should know she 
 had not laid off her clothes at all. 
 
 " I think you have such beautiful hair, sister." 
 
 This opinion was no sisterly weakness. Every 
 body thought Margaret had beautiful hair. Per 
 haps she thought so herself, for she was more 
 careful of its arrangement than of any part of her 
 toilet. ]STow it rippled and brightened in the early 
 sunlight, as she loosened the braids from their 
 unwonted confinement, like Godiva's own tresses ; 
 and Susie, who had never heard of that lovely 
 lady, " clothed on with purity," looked on from 
 the bed admiringly. 
 
 " How vain I should be if I believed all you 
 say!" 
 
 Margaret's voice had a playfulness she was far 
 from feeling ; but she was glad to see Susie divert 
 ed, if only for an instant.
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 95 
 
 V 
 
 " Oh dear, what a long day it's going to be ! " 
 was the next ejaculation. The shadow came over 
 the brightened face, and over Margaret's path 
 again. " But I didn't mean to say it. I don't 
 want you to be worried ; I don't mean to complain ; 
 only it seems to make me feel better sometimes." 
 
 " I know just how it is, dear, and how hard it 
 is to lie here all by yourself ; but I'm going for 
 Ruth, recollect." 
 
 Margaret did not dare to promise any thing 
 more, and hurried away on her errand before any 
 of the household were stirring.
 
 96 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 RUTH was up, and her room in perfect order, 
 the comfortable rag-carpet without a shred from 
 yesterday's work, the sun streaming over the plants, 
 and sending a glow of deeper crimson to the heart 
 of a half-open rose ; the kettle sang cheerily ; and 
 the little round, slender-legged table set with all 
 precision and inviting cleanliness. The equally 
 tidy mistress of the little apartment turned with a 
 start from slicing a loaf of fresh home-made 
 bread. 
 
 " Dear me, Margaret ! "What's happened ? 
 You look as if you had a fit of sickness. Sit down ! 
 sit down ! " And she drew a chair between the 
 table and the fire. " Why, how blue you are ! " 
 She ran on without waiting for the answer, which 
 would not have been given in a very steady voice. 
 " You almost look as if you'd been crying. What's
 
 MAEGARET'S HOME. 97 
 
 become of you all the last week ? I haven't even 
 seen Susie ; and she generally gives me a call, 
 since let me see ! Why, it's more than a week, 
 isn't it, since she was around ? " 
 
 Margaret explained as briefly as she could 
 their present domestic troubles, and especially 
 Susie's chief need ; while the little dame, bustling 
 about to set the tea to draw, " oh-deared " and " so- 
 soed " in kindly sympathy. 
 
 " To be sure I'll go, and stay with her as much 
 as I can ; but my work's right here all the time ; 
 and 'tisn't as if I could take it with me handy. I 
 don't mind your mother. You needn't be the least 
 bit afraid of that. She knows enough to let me 
 alone. But I can't do much good, half an hour or 
 so a day. Isn't there anybody you can get to stay 
 right along, Margaret? That child oughtn't to 
 be left all alone, particularly if she's taken such 
 notions. Where's your father ? Throws her right 
 back ; of course it does ! " 
 
 Margaret shook her head. 
 
 "I can't think of anybody. Father? He's 
 out almost all the time about his patent." 
 
 " Well, well ! I'll see what I can do. You 
 5
 
 98 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 just sit down, now, and take this slice of toast and 
 a cup of tea. That's what you need. I don't be 
 lieve you've touched a mouthful to-day." 
 " I can't eat, Euth. It would choke me." 
 " Jest so. I know all about it. But what are 
 you going to tend store and take care of Susan 
 on ? You'll be laid up next ! " 
 
 Margaret broke off a corner of toast, and drank 
 a cup of tea. She knew as well as Euth how 
 much she needed it ; but she was late, much later 
 than usual. She could not stay, even to be com 
 forted and petted. Hurrying into the street, with 
 Mrs. Norton's kindly " ISTow do take care of your 
 self " sounding behind her, a sudden thought of 
 asking leave of absence for herself darted into her 
 mind. What was money, though every dollar 
 was usually appropriated before it was received, 
 to her sister's life? She knew that it depended 
 far more on nursing than medicine ; and she sud 
 denly felt what a terrible blank there would be 
 without this motive for exertion. She prayed, as 
 she walked rapidly along, that the cup might not 
 be pressed to her lips ; and she tried to utter all 
 of that agonized petition ; but, " nevertheless, not 
 my willj" she knew, did not come from her heart.
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 99 
 
 If she could have seen Mr. Choate when she 
 first entered the store, it would have been compara 
 tively easy to ask the permission to absent herself ; 
 but he was unusually engaged ; and the day open 
 ed with such a press of customers, that Margaret 
 began to feel she could not be spared just at the 
 opening of the holiday season. Then she thought 
 of her salary again. Four dollars gone ! and Su 
 sie must certainly have a cloak, or a new warm 
 shawl, as soon as she could go out again ; and there 
 would be the doctor's bill, and the medicines from 
 the apothecary's, with many more little expenses 
 which come to so much in the end, all growing 
 out of this sickness. 
 
 " Let me see ; the difference is scarcely worth 
 mentioning," said the customer she was engaged 
 with, when Mr. Choate reappeared at last, and re 
 sumed his pen with a zest sharpened by the hum 
 of business around him. The lady was hesitating 
 between two dresses that she held up alternately 
 to the light. " Really, I like this so much the 
 best ! "What will the whole difference be ? " 
 
 " Four dollars and a half in the dress," said 
 Margaret, patiently. She had made the calculation 
 long before. The indecision had lasted at least
 
 100 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 half an hour ; and the counter was heaped with 
 many other styles. 
 
 " Time does not seem of the least consequence 
 to most people," thought Margaret, " or money 
 either, for that matter. I wonder if rich people 
 dream how we covet what they waste of both." 
 The remembrance of Susie, wearily tossing all alone 
 through that half hour, came to her with a pang. 
 " Sickness is nothing to the rich. It can't be half 
 as much as it is to us, with all the care and anxiety 
 it brings to poor people. I don't suppose it ever 
 comes into their minds what a blessing it is to.be 
 able to take care of those they love, and never 
 have to leave them when they are suffering." 
 
 It certainly did not come into Margaret's, for 
 we see only one side of the picture at a time, how 
 much these cares distract from the dull wearing 
 anxiety of those who sit by, powerless to aid, yet 
 having nothing to call their thoughts from the 
 suffering they witness ! or, sadder still, how many 
 are left to the care of a hireling, because that care 
 can be purchased, with the ready excuse of " health 
 and spirits suffering from such close confinement ! " 
 Better the humble, self-sacrificing ministry of the 
 poor, one to another, even though some necessities
 
 MABGAKET'S HOME. 101 
 
 are hardly gained, and some comforts altogether 
 wanting. 
 
 Margaret took the twenty dollar bill at last 
 tendered to her, and went with it to the desk her 
 self. She felt a restless impatience to have the 
 matter decided. The request and the money were 
 proffered. The change and the refusal came to 
 gether. 
 
 Mr. Choate expressed himself " surprised that 
 Miss Grant shauld ask leave then, of all times in 
 the year. Miss Grant must see for herself " and 
 the gray eyes swept a glance at the arriving and 
 departing throng with peculiar satisfaction " that 
 they had need of all their assistance, especially 
 with Christmas week at hand. Three levies and 
 a fip." And Margaret felt herself and her petition 
 dismissed, as he pushed the silver towards her. 
 His manner, always decided, was so especially cold 
 and uncomfortable that it brought back to her 
 mind the affair of the missing dress, which, though 
 an ever-present burden, her more recent troubles 
 had pressed into the background. The lady was 
 waiting for the change. It was no time for expla 
 nation or expostulations. She stood like a hunted 
 creature at bay, in the accumulated pressure and
 
 102 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 uncertainty. For a moment, she felt as if she 
 would dare any thing, and apply ^to Mr. Churchill, 
 whose kind face at a little distance she fancied was 
 turned towards the desk as she spoke ; but that 
 would have been a capital offence in the eyes of 
 his senior, who prided himself on being a rigid 
 disciplinarian, and on his absolute rule in all minor 
 transactions. 
 
 There was a lull in the business of that special 
 department just then, and the girls drew together 
 in little groups, to talk over the items of news 
 dispensed at their several counters. 
 
 " "What in the world is the matter with Mar 
 garet Grant ? " asked Susie's friend Marianne, as 
 they watched her coming back from the desk. " I 
 believe she's in love ; I vow I'll ^sk her." 
 
 " In disgrace more like ! " retorted Addy Long, 
 with a shrug of her half-covered shoulders. " Ca 
 leb looks as cross as a thunder-cloud." 
 
 " Something's going on ; that's certain," said 
 another of the girls. " There's Mr. Churchill walk 
 ing up, and now they're both looking after her. 
 Margaret hasn't been like herself since that day 
 she was sent for into the office. Don't you know ? " 
 
 " What day ? no ! " And Addy Long's color
 
 MAKGAEET'S HOME. 103 
 
 rose a shade higher, as she spoke with a little start. 
 " What was it about ? did you ask her ? " 
 
 ""Why, don't you remember? I told some 
 body when the girls came in, and I thought it was 
 you. Ask her ! no, indeed ! Margaret isn't a 
 girl to question about her own affairs. How plain 
 she always does dress ! I wonder what she does 
 with her money ! " 
 
 " She's too mean to spend it ! " 
 
 " Oh, for shame, Addy ! " said two of the girls 
 at once. 
 
 " I don't think you ought to take her part, 
 Marianne. I heard her refuse to lend you a dollar 
 the night that little sister of hers was here, after 
 you'd been amusing the child, too ! " 
 
 " That's nothing ! Margaret knows I'm always 
 in debt to everybody. She doesn't think it's right 
 for any of us to borrow or lend." 
 
 " Mean, I told you so," said the other provok- 
 ingly. " She was afraid she should never see it 
 again." 
 
 Ellen Boyne came to Marianne's aid. " I don't 
 think she's mean exactly ; but I know, if I had a 
 father's house as she has, and no board to pay, I sup 
 pose, I'd have something better than such a dress as
 
 104: LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 she wears, year in and year out, when we can get 
 things at cost, too. But do look, girls ! there goes 
 Mr. Churchill." 
 
 True enough, there was Mr. Churchill speaking 
 to Margaret, who remained alone at her post. 
 
 Addy Long's uneasiness visibly increased. She 
 would have given her month's salary, though she 
 owed it all, to have been two yards nearer ; but 
 Mr. Churchill spoke very low, and they could not 
 make out a word, though Margaret s color went 
 and came as she listened. 
 
 " Mr. Choate tells me that you wish to be 
 absent a week ; on account of sickness in the family." 
 Always that same kind, low voice. It quieted her 
 of itself. 
 
 " I have succeeded in showing him that we can 
 spare you for a week, at least, and I hope by that 
 time your father will be better." 
 
 " It is my sister, and I am very much needed," 
 said Margaret, with a glad, grateful look of thanks 
 for such unexpected succor. 
 
 " Perhaps, then, you had better go at once. 
 One afternoon will not maT^e much difference 
 here, and there are half-a-dozen idle girls." 
 
 Margaret was only too glad to accept the ad-
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 105 
 
 ditional kindness. She thought of the difference 
 between the two members of the firm, as she found 
 Mr. Churchill standing by the street door when 
 she was ready to go. He opened it for her, and 
 bowed as if she had been the most wealthy and 
 fashionable woman in the city, though without 
 speaking. Mr. Ohoate would not even have seen 
 her. Perhaps Margaret thought more than this, 
 as she called to mind other instances of Mr. Church 
 ill's invariable kindness and courtesy, contrasting 
 it insensibly with the extraordinary airs and graces 
 of Mr. Wood, one of the clerks, who had lately 
 distinguished her by several pointed compliments 
 and attentions. Yet by half the world he would 
 have been considered a much more attractive man 
 than his employer. 
 
 Mrs. Grant looked up in astonishment at Mar 
 garet's unexpected appearance, but she happened 
 to be in a resentful mood, and disdained to ask any 
 questions, though burning with curiosity. Mar 
 garet had half a mind to be equally uncommuni 
 cative, but, though longing to fly up-stairs, she 
 checked the rising ungraciousness, and made the 
 needful explanations. 
 
 She need not have hurried them so, Susie was
 
 106 LOSS AND GAIN J OK, 
 
 asleep, though even then, her yearning loneliness 
 made itself apparent. She had rolled up the shawl, 
 spread over her for additional warmth, into the 
 uncouth semblance of a huge rag doll, which was 
 laid on the pillow beside her ; and over it one arm 
 was thrown affectionately, thus cheating herself 
 into slumber, with the fancy of companionship. 
 Seeing her thus, in the broad glare of noonday for 
 the first time since her illness, Margaret was star 
 tled at the change a few days had made. So slight, 
 so wan, so wasted ! her sister almost felt for a 
 moment that she had come but to see her die. 
 Carefully as she moved, the slight sound awoke 
 the sleeper. 
 
 " Oh, Margaret ! " There was such unmistak 
 able joy and relief in the recognition, and in those 
 unnaturally large eyes that seemed to question 
 whether it was not a dream after all. 
 
 " It's really I, Susie ! and I've come to make 
 you a nice long visit. Can't you ask me to take 
 off my things. See what I've brought you, too." 
 
 " Oranges ? Oh, I did want an orange so 
 much. I thought about it all day yesterday, and 
 when I woke in the night, I was so thirsty ! But 
 father roasted me an apple this morning. "Wasn't
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 107 
 
 he good, sister? he roasted it himself, before he 
 went away, and brought it up to me on the china 
 plate I used to have when I was a little girl. 
 "Wasn't he good ? it did taste so nice ! " 
 
 Margaret was touched by this unlooked-for 
 thoughtfulness on her father's part. It was more 
 like his old self than any thing she had seen for 
 many a day. 
 
 " But you must not talk so much, Susie. You 
 must only look at me, and be as still as that young 
 friend of yours there on the bed." 
 
 Both the sisters laughed, Susie a little ashamed 
 at her own invention. " But I was so lonesome," 
 she said ; " and it was really a great deal better 
 than nothing." 
 
 The afternoon was a very pleasant one, save 
 the pain that even Margaret's presence could not 
 entirely banish. She did much to alleviate it, 
 however, and had full time to make the room as 
 comfortable as circumstances would allow ; and 
 Ruth, coming in just at the right moment, con 
 structed an impromptu easy-chair with quilts and 
 pillows, where Susie nestled while she aired the 
 bed thoroughly, and made it up soft and evenly,
 
 108 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 as only those can who were taught bed-making as 
 an accomplishment in the olden time. 
 
 Ruth's next prescription was not so cheerfully 
 followed. She declared that "all those tangles 
 only made the fever worse, and would have the 
 child cross-eyed by the time she was well, any 
 way." They must be cut off at once. Susie look 
 ed ruefully at the " snarls," as Ruth called them, 
 as the scissors of her old friend clipped away about 
 her ears ; and Margaret was glad that the duty 
 did not devolve on her. How well could she re 
 member seeing their mother twining the short, 
 silky rings over her thin fingers, as the baby lay 
 in her bosom ! and, when Ruth said, briskly, " There, 
 now ! that looks something like ! " Margaret could 
 not enter very heartily into compliments on the 
 improvement she had effected. It was a trifling 
 loss, though, when there was so much gained, for 
 there was a rapid decrease of fever from that hour, 
 whether the result of the doctor's visits, or Ruth's, 
 or Margaret's nursing. Gaining strength was an 
 other thing, though ; and, if the illness was less 
 alarming, the little patient needed still more care 
 and soothing than before. 
 
 A whole week to herself and Susie ! Such an
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 109 
 
 event had not chanced since Margaret's first en 
 trance into a busy life. How much she could ac 
 complish on their hurriedly repaired wardrobe 
 and, fortunately, she had provided herself with 
 requisite materials long before, in anticipation of 
 leisure that never seemed to come. But Mrs. 
 Grant's jaded, fretful face would come between 
 her and the satisfaction with which she looked 
 forward to this needed interval. "Why should it ? 
 There were no good turns to be requited, no kind 
 feelings to reciprocate. "Was not her time as truly 
 her own as it had been Mr. Churchill's who had 
 given it to her ? It was not given, after all. She 
 would have to pay herself for the lost salary. It 
 was doubly her own, then. If the children had 
 been lovable, it would have been easier to deny 
 her own plans, and work for them. And here, for 
 the first time, Margaret saw that she had suffered 
 herself to set aside her duty. Why Were they not 
 more lovable ? She had made faint efforts to at 
 tach them to her, to train them into more gentle, 
 thoughtful ways, and had been rewarded by Mrs. 
 Grant's jealous warnings " not to interfere with her 
 children, and try to manage them as she did all 
 the rest of the house." But they were her father's
 
 110 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 children as well as her brothers ; and was it right 
 to turn from them so entirely as she had done of 
 late ? Perhaps Susie would yet be taken away to 
 teach her that she had wronged them for her sake. 
 Must she wait to have the cross laid upon her ? 
 Was there not a divine command to " take it up," 
 and bear it patiently ? 
 
 Margaret thought over all these things as she 
 tried to fix her mind on a well-worn volume of 
 prayers and meditations, which had been endeared 
 to her as her mother's daily companion, as well as 
 by the help and counsel it had many a time given 
 in her need. It was no other than the " Imita 
 tion" of the devout Thomas a Kempis, he who, 
 being dead, yet speaketh hopefully and consoling 
 ly to many a troubled spirit. Her mother's pencil 
 had marked the page to which she opened, and 
 Margaret read : 
 
 "Those things that a man cannot amend in 
 himself or others, he ought to suffer patiently un 
 til God order things otherwise. 
 
 " Think that perhaps it is better so for thy trial 
 and patience. 
 
 " Thou oughtest to pray, notwithstanding, when 
 thou hast such impediments, that God would vouch-
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. Ill 
 
 safe to help thee, and that thou mayest bear them 
 kindly. 
 
 " Thou must learn to break thine own will in 
 many things, if thou wilt have peace and concord 
 with others. 
 
 " God hath thus ordered it, that we may learn 
 to bear one another's burdens, for no man is with 
 out fault no man but hath his burden-^o man 
 is sufficient of himself no man wise enough of 
 himself ; but we ought to bear with one another, 
 comfort and help one another." 
 
 " My proud will ! that is it ! " thought Mar 
 garet, as she closed the book ; and she felt that 
 she had been helped to conquer it for once, at least, 
 as she sat in the cold chamber by Susie's side, that 
 evening, sewing as busily on a half-finished jacket 
 for one of the boys as if it had been the new dress 
 she had promised her sister so long before. 
 
 The concession was not lost, for Mrs. Grant 
 came up voluntarily, and sat down awhile on the 
 foot of the bed, for the first time since Susie's sick 
 ness ; and Margaret felt more than the glow of 
 duty conquering self-will as she saw the pleasure 
 this little token of interest gave the long-neglected 
 child.
 
 112 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 " WHAT an opening and shutting of doors the 
 boys do keep up ! " said Margaret, one evening, 
 almost at the close of her precious week. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; but not half so bad as they do 
 sometimes. I thought I heard somebody knock, 
 though, now." 
 
 " I guess not. Your little ears are getting alto 
 gether too sharp, lately." 
 
 " "Well, I thought so ; but I don't know anybody 
 that could come in to see us in the evening ; do 
 you ? " Susie looked very happy and comfortable 
 among her pillows, though not strong enough to 
 sit up as yet. " Don't you wish the boys would 
 go to bed ? and then we should be just as still as 
 mice." 
 
 "It's high time ; but I suppose mother is busy. 
 I remember, now, I heard her say there was bread 
 to mix. I wonder if I ought to volunteer ? "
 
 MAEOAEET'S HOME. 113 
 
 While Susie was trying to say " I suppose so," 
 cheerfully. Master "Washington came lumbering up 
 the stairs, and sat down deliberately on the top 
 most one, swinging his feet up on to the floor before 
 he delivered his message. 
 
 " Mother says you must come right down, Mar 
 garet." 
 
 Susie's ire rose at the positive summons. It 
 was all very well for Margaret to offer her assist 
 ance ; but she did not approve of having it de 
 manded. " What for ? " she asked, rather sharply, 
 as Margaret began to put her work aside. 
 
 " There's a man wants to see her. Me and Al 
 went to the door." 
 
 " A man ? " And Margaret dropped her spool 
 and scissors, as she rose hastily. " A gentleman? 
 Who is it ? " 
 
 " Do' know," said the youngster, gravely. 
 " He 's got a cane." And then, as if a sudden 
 plan had seized him with this recollection, he be 
 gan sliding downwards as fast as possible. 
 
 " Stop a minute," said Margaret, unaccountably 
 fluttered by such an unusual occurrence. " Can't 
 you tell me what he looks like ? " 
 
 " Jest like a man. I'm goin' to ride on his
 
 LOSS AND GAIN; OE, 
 
 cane, too ; see if I don't ! " And the unsatisfac 
 tory messenger put himself beyond the reach of 
 further questioning. 
 
 Margaret could think of but one person in the 
 world, of course the most unlikely one to seek her 
 in her own house. Nevertheless, she stopped to 
 smooth her hair, and rearrange her black silk 
 apron. She charged herself with folly as she did 
 so ; but, nevertheless, her heart beat fast, and her 
 cheek flushed. She wondered how it looked down 
 stairs, whether the tea things were washed, and 
 the baby's clothes gathered up and put away. She 
 wished she had thought to offer her assistance a 
 little earlier, and the boys would have been out of 
 the way besides. For the first time in her life, she 
 wished they could afford to have a fire occasion 
 ally in the little narrow, unused front room. 
 
 After all this flutter of expectation, Mr. "Wood, 
 her distinguished-looking fellow-clerk, rose to meet 
 her, with one of his most overwhelming bows, and 
 evidently " got up " elaborately for the occasion. 
 His hair and whiskers were redolent of Roussel's 
 last compound ; his boots shone with an equal 
 gloss. A snow-white handkerchief just peeped 
 from the breast-pocket of his overcoat ; and he
 
 MABGAKET'S HOME. 115 
 
 wore, as lie always did when " on parade," lemon- 
 colored kid-gloves, that gave the impression that 
 his hand must have been melted, and run into 
 them, from their exact fit. So distinguishing a 
 trait was the last, that Ellen Boyne, famous for 
 sobriquets, had knighted him as " Count Lemon," 
 much to his annoyance. Yet there was not a girl 
 of her set but was delighted to exhibit herself be 
 side him, in "Walnut Street, on Sunday afternoon. 
 
 Margaret's worst fears, as regarded les enfans 
 terribles, were confirmed. They were in loud dis 
 pute over the possession of the taper walking-stick 
 Mr. Wood had unguardedly laid aside with his 
 hat ; and, though he endeavored to appear several 
 shades more elegant than usual, it was plain that 
 his mind was distracted by its threatened demoli 
 tion between them. 
 
 " I got it first ! " shouted Al, holding firmly by 
 the ornamental head, a delicately wrought hand 
 in bronze. It might have been moulded after Mr. 
 "Wood's own. 
 
 " I don't care ; I meant to have it up-stairs ; 
 didn't I ? Didn't I say I was coming right down 
 to ride on it ? " 
 
 Mr. "Wood endeavored to compose himself.
 
 116 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 " He had taken the liberty," he said (" done 
 her the honor " was expressed by his manner), " of 
 calling to see where Miss Grant had secluded her 
 self so long. She conld have no idea what a wide 
 chasm her absence had made to every one, her 
 humble servant included." 
 
 Mrs. Grant, listening intently, nodded her head 
 to her husband, as much as to say, " Did you hear 
 that ? I told you so," and administered a slap at 
 random between the disputants, whose movements 
 disturbed her only so far as they made the visitor's 
 elegant accents rather indistinct. 
 
 Disappointment and annoyance combined to 
 make Margaret's manner even colder than she in 
 tended, as she seized the first pause to introduce 
 her guest to her father and mother. 
 
 Mr. Wood scarcely condescended to acknowl 
 edge a ceremony so useless, so far as he was con 
 cerned. As Margaret seated herself, he turned 
 his chair directly back to Mrs. Grant's, and con 
 tinued his complimentary discourse. 
 
 "Washington, having become the victor, by the 
 undignified stratagem of a pinch and a trip mount 
 ed his charger in triumph, and careered around 
 the room, adding discord to disorder.
 
 MAEGAEET'S HOME. 11Y 
 
 "What did Miss Grant do with herself on 
 Sundays ? " was the next insinuating inquiry. 
 " Never had the pleasure of meeting her, though 
 usually favored by a bow from most of the other 
 young ladies. Yery nice set of girls, ours, particu 
 larly Miss Long. Did Miss Grant visit Miss Long? 
 She lived in such a remarkably genteel neighbor 
 hood." 
 
 Margaret understood perfectly well this indirect 
 allusion to the obscurity of her own residence, as 
 well as the furtive glances sent about the room 
 over the top of his hat, which he had thought 
 best to repossess himself of. As to his appearance 
 under her father's roof, and his conversation gen 
 erally, he expected her to be overwhelmed she 
 was, with vexation. Though she did not in her 
 heart respect Mr. Wood's opinion, it was very 
 mortifying to be obliged to receive her first gentle 
 man visitor with such surroundings, to say nothing 
 of the unmannerly urchins, who filled up the 
 pauses, and interrupted the flow of his remarks 
 by incessant clamor. 
 
 The baby's clothes still lay as he had kicked 
 them off; the bread-trough, covered by the ironing- 
 blanket, stood in front of the stove ; not a chair
 
 118 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 was in its place ; and her father, in whom her 
 family pride centred, looked unusually shabby 
 with his unshaven chin and worst suit of clothes, 
 as he stooped over one of his innumerable diagrams, 
 drawing by the light of a simple oil lamp. How 
 could she feel otherwise than chagrined, knowing 
 that the whole scene would probably be reported 
 with embellishments for the amusement of her 
 companions, Addy Long especially ? 
 
 No one is quite invulnerable to the opinions of 
 others ; and perhaps we care most when we expect 
 judgment by a false standard. 
 
 Mr. Grant laid down his papers with something 
 of his old good-breeding in his manner, very dif 
 ferent from his wife's. She openly resented their 
 visitor's incivility when notwithstanding Mr. 
 Grant's movement he continued to direct his 
 conversation exclusively to Margaret, and com 
 menced talking to her husband, in a very loud 
 tone, on various household topics, calculated to 
 interest no one but themselves. 
 
 " Did Miss Grant ever visit the theatre ? " re 
 sumed Mr. "Wood, after a break in his narrative of 
 what had " been going on " in Arch Street during 
 her absence.
 
 MABGARET'S HOME. 119 
 
 " No ? Was it possible ! He should be delight 
 ed to escort her some evening, or to the opera. The 
 season opened in the holidays, as she was probably 
 aware, with an excellent troupe. And there were 
 the concerts ; the Philharmonic was extremely 
 fashionable ; everybody went to the Philharmonic ; 
 Miss Long had sometimes given him the pleasure 
 of her society there. But perhaps Miss Grant did 
 not care for music." 
 
 On the contrary, she was very fond of it ; and 
 Mr. Wood felt that he had achieved a triumph 
 when she was forced to acknowledge that she Jiad 
 not heard one of the distinguished artists whose 
 names he so flowingly rehearsed. 
 
 Mr. Wood was at once original and consoling, 
 as he responded, " Better late than never." He 
 might apply it to his call on Miss Grant, though 
 he had frequently promised himself the pleasure. 
 Snap ! went the treacherous reed on which Mr. 
 Wood (figuratively) leaned. Washington, having 
 resigned it to his brother, was hanging about and 
 eying suspiciously the trinkets suspended to the 
 resplendent watch-chain displayed on Mr. Wood's 
 satin vest ; and Al, left to himself, had been occu 
 pied in testing its strength by placing it between
 
 120 LOSS AND GAIN', OK, 
 
 two chairs, and riding up and down, delighted 
 with the " spring." 
 
 Mr. Wood declared that it was not of the least 
 consequence, in reply to Margaret's distressed apol-" 
 ogy ; but his face expressed a strong desire to try 
 the " spring " of the remainder on the shoulders 
 of the offender, and, perhaps for fear of further 
 damage to his person or possessions, soon after 
 rose to go. " He was sorry to be obliged to tear 
 himself away so soon, but a pressing engagement 
 made it unavoidable. Was there any thing he could 
 do for Miss Grant in her much-to-be-regretted re 
 tirement ! She must not hesitate to command 
 him." 
 
 He evidently anticipated that she would accom 
 pany him to the door, and showed his disappoint 
 ment when Mr. Grant took up the lamp to guide 
 him through the narrow, unlighted hall. The 
 departure was worthy of the advent. Margaret 
 was to feel herself extremely flattered by the 
 warmth of his adieus to herself ; but he stalked 
 past Mrs. Grant without notice, and did not even 
 vouchsafe a civil good-night to her father, who 
 patiently held the lamp aloft in the passage. 
 
 " "Well, Margaret, so you've got a beau at last,"
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 121 
 
 said Mrs. Grant, before lie was fairly out of hear 
 ing. "It's high time. Hush your racket, and 
 be off to bed this minute ! " the order being ad 
 dressed to the boys ; and Margaret could but think 
 that it would have been just as well if it had been 
 given and enforced a little earlier in the evening. 
 
 " Wa'n't them gold things to his chain splen 
 did ? " commented "Washington, as his mother seiz 
 ed him by the collar of his jacket to facilitate his 
 movements. " I mean to have 'em next time." 
 
 " I don't think much of his manners, though," 
 pursued Mrs. Grant. " He might have run his 
 head against the wall, for all me, if Pd, been your 
 father, before I'd 'a' shown him out." 
 
 Margaret went back to Susie more depressed 
 than she had been since her week at home com 
 menced. A vague feeling that something uncom 
 fortable had happened, and was still to grow out 
 of this visit, hung over her. Susie was half sitting 
 up in bed, awaiting her eagerly. 
 
 " How long he did stay ! Was it Mr. Chur 
 chill, sister ? " 
 
 "What had put that into the child's mind ? She 
 could not have read Margaret's fluttering thoughts 
 
 as she left the room. 
 C
 
 122 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 " Mr. Churchill ? No, indeed, Susie ! What 
 would he come here for ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know ! I 'm so glad ! " And she 
 fell back on her pillows contentedly. 
 
 " Why ? " asked Margaret, still more surprised. 
 "Glad of what?" 
 
 " Because I knew the voice right away ; and 
 it was the man who teazed me so at the store, and 
 laughed at me. I shouldn't like it to be Mr. 
 Churchill." 
 
 Susie did not explain " why ; " and Margaret 
 did not ask her ; but she would not have liked it 
 to be Mr. Churchill either.
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 123 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 IT was almost dark. The clouds, after veering 
 and floating about all day, had closed down with 
 an ashen, sombre hue in the twilight ; and snow 
 began to fall finely and evenly, as if the storm 
 intended to come to something of consequence 
 a rare thing for the climate and the season, a fine 
 thing for boys rejoicing in their first pair of boots, 
 or for young ladies looking forward to a real sleigh- 
 ride. It was watched with this delightful antici 
 pation by two gay young creatures from the 
 windows of a wide, old-fashioned house in Arch 
 Street. 
 
 " My dear child ! " and a small head, made 
 the most of by broad bandeaux evidently arranged 
 with especial care, made its appearance from be 
 hind a heavily embroidered lace curtain " do see 
 it come down ! I hope it will last till Christmas. 
 Snow makes every thing so lively in the holidays ! "
 
 124 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 A momentary apparition of a fair face, with 
 soft large curls half hiding it, looked out for a 
 moment from the opposite recess. 
 
 " Sleighing, you mean ? Yes, indeed ! "What 
 are you all going to do on Christmas ? " 
 
 " Dear knows ! "What do you expect to get ? 
 Papa keeps watch over mother, or I know she'd 
 let out my present. I know she's dying to tell me 
 now." 
 
 " I haven't an idea ; but I've set my heart on 
 furs, my stone-marten is so shabby ; besides, no 
 body wears stone-marten now." 
 
 The subject seemed to be suggestive. Both 
 looked out, and watched the snow again, and the 
 few foot passengers, most of them gentlemen 
 returning from business, in a silence that was 
 wonderful, considering that they were not above 
 eighteen, either of them, intimate friends, and had 
 not seen each other before for a day and a half. 
 
 " "What in the world can keep Agnes ? " said 
 the lady of the bandeaux, at last. " We shall be 
 late, as sure as the world, Joe." 
 
 " And your brother ! " suggested Miss Jose 
 phine, whose watch was confined solely to hats and 
 overcoats, while her friend Kate had been counting
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 125 
 
 the minutes between passing omnibuses. It was the 
 night of the first Musical Fund concert, the open 
 ing of the season ; and their toilets were already 
 completed. ISTo wonder that they were impatient 
 for the arrivals that were to signal the tea-bell ! 
 " How late it is ! " And a tiny watch was drawn 
 out for the fifth time, at least, within the half hour. 
 
 " Suppose we practise a little while ? That will 
 make the time go faster." 
 
 Josephine made an impatient, restless move 
 ment. 
 
 " Oh, I can't settle myself to any thing when 
 I'm going out ! I haven't been able to do a thing 
 all day." 
 
 " It's very stupid and unkind in both of them," 
 said Kate. How she would have done battle if any 
 one else had presumed to say the same ! " Here 
 comes Agnes at last, I do believe." And she flew 
 into the hall, anticipating her sister's ring by throw 
 ing open the door, and pulling her in with both 
 hands. A gentleman came up the steps at the 
 same moment, knocking the snow lightly from his 
 boots as he entered. 
 
 " Tea, right away ! " called the younger sister to 
 the servant, who appeared at the head of the stairs.
 
 126 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 " What could you be thinking of, Lewie ? Jose 
 phine and I have been waiting this half hour. The 
 carriage will be here before you are ready." 
 
 " Plenty of time, Kate," said her brother, quiet 
 ly, as gentlemen always do, no matter how much 
 their tardiness has flurried you, or how few minutes 
 are between you and a positive engagement. 
 
 " How delightfully warm the hall is ! " Agnes 
 said, throwing her victorine over her arm, and 
 looking around with a light shiver, more sugges 
 tive of past than present discomfort. " And the 
 parlor looks so cheerful ! Really, Kate, I don't 
 think you know how pleasant your home is ! you 
 are always in such a hurry to get out of it." 
 
 " You can have it all to yourself, then, this 
 evening. Father and mother have gone to Anne's 
 to tea." 
 
 " That's too bad ! I don't like the idea of leav 
 ing you all alone," said her brother, quickly. 
 
 Agnes looked up with a bright, fond smile. 
 
 " Thank you, Lewis ; but you know I never 
 mind it. I'm glad father has persuaded mother 
 to go. I think I had better send for them before 
 the carriage goes for you. I shall not care in 
 the least."
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 127 
 
 Truly ? " 
 
 " Truly. I'm going to make out my reports. 
 It will be a nice opportunity ; and I like to do it 
 when I have my visits all fresh in my mind." 
 
 " So you've been among your poor people, this 
 afternoon. You're a good creature." And he 
 stopped to smile and bow to Miss Josephine 
 Wright, as she appeared in the parlor-door, think 
 ing, as he did so, how very pretty and animated 
 she was. 
 
 Never was there a more affectionate family 
 than the Churchill, for this is their home ; and yet, 
 somehow, these young people enjoyed their tea- 
 table chat amazingly in the absence of their elders 
 and betters. There was a certain novelty and sense 
 of freedom to talk what nonsense they liked, with 
 Agnes at the tea-tray, and Lewis seated in his fa 
 ther's arm-chair directly opposite. There was very 
 little appetite for the cold tongue and wafer-like 
 biscuit on the part of Kate and Josephine, how 
 ever, who were listening every moment for the 
 roll of the carriage. They began to think Agnes 
 and Lewis never would be satisfied. 
 
 Then came the hooding and cloaking in the 
 hall, with all manner of jests and compliments
 
 128 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 Josephine looking prettier than ever in the tassel- 
 led rigolette and pink cashmere wrap, which she 
 called a cloak, though it was well that she had 
 only to cross the pavement, if she put her sole 
 dependence in it for shelter. The heedless Kate, 
 though she had groaned over their detention, dis 
 covered, at the last moment, that she had neither 
 gloves nor handkerchief, and that she had left her 
 fan on the table in the dining-room ; finally, that 
 Lewis had no opera-glass ; and there was no earth 
 ly use in going to a concert without a glass. 
 
 " Do you hear with your eyes, Kate ? " asked 
 Agnes. 
 
 " To see you the better, my dear," sang Kate, 
 as she snatched the box from the servant, and ran 
 down the steps to the carriage, where Josephine 
 impatiently awaited her. 
 
 So they were gone at last ; and " sister Agnes," 
 as she was usually called by them, turned to her 
 own room for a quiet evening. There was no self- 
 denial involved in its seclusion ; it was oftener the 
 reverse that she gave up its stillness, regretfully, 
 for the family circle, or what she really had very 
 little fancy for general society. 
 
 The room seemed to welcome her, as she enter-
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 129 
 
 ed it, with a glow of warmth and comfort, the 
 cheerful fire in the grate throwing its red light 
 over the close-drawn hangings of the windows, and 
 the white counterpane, and still whiter pillows of 
 the bed. The gas was shaded just as she liked it, 
 the glare softened, and thrown down upon the 
 round table with its books, the rosewood desk, and 
 many pretty fanciful appliances for work or study. 
 She had been an invalid when she learned to love 
 her room so much ; but there was no trace of it 
 in the arrangements now, aside from the low easy- 
 chair on one side of the fire, and a couch, almost 
 too comfortable -for health, occupying the opposite 
 corner. 
 
 " Sister's room " was a favorite resting-place for 
 the whole family. Mrs. Churchill came there to 
 discuss household plans and perplexities ; Kate 
 flitted in and out all hours of the day ; and Lewis 
 found the evening indefinitely prolonged when he 
 claimed privileged admittance after the breaking 
 up of the family circle. 
 
 She was wearied both in mind and body ; her 
 walk had been unusually long ; and the tea-table 
 chat had left an uncomfortable impression, though 
 
 it might be only fatigue, after all ; for, as she 
 6*
 
 130 LOSS AND GAIN ; OK, 
 
 leaned back in the easy-chair, shading her eyes 
 from the firelight, an attitude habitual ' to her, she 
 came to think only of the comforts and blessings 
 of her lot. She had laid out the printed blanks 
 for her monthly reports to the good rector of their 
 parish ; and, though she read over the sentence 
 printed warningly at their head " It is required 
 of a steward that he be found faithful " she sank 
 into a reverie ; while the snow fell noiselessly 
 without, muffling all ruder sounds.
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 131 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 THE evening flew by with swift unconscious 
 ness. Agnes could scarcely believe it had gone, 
 when the little bustle below announced the early 
 arrival of her father and mother ; and in due time 
 the concert-goers made their appearance, Kate, as 
 usual, in a great state of excitement, describing 
 audience and performers in a breath. 
 
 " We had capital seats, after all, sister Agnes 
 side seats. You don't know how Lewis kept us 
 waiting, mother." 
 
 " For my gloves or fan, which ? " 
 
 " Well, but you did. I should have been all in 
 order, if you had come in good season. But we 
 had capital seats, after all next to the Flag party, 
 only think ! Oh, it was as good as a play to watch 
 them ! Mrs. Flag waddling in, with Jack Blair 
 trotting after, as if he had been a spaniel or a foot 
 man, carrying her opera-glass with her everlasting
 
 132 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 blue hood over his arm. I wonder if any one ever 
 saw Mr. Flag. Is there any Mr. Flag, papa, or is 
 he a myth ? Lewis was devoted to Helen Florence 
 in the recess. My dear Agnes, you should have 
 seen him ! made Joe as jealous as possible. Oh, I 
 wish you could have heard Truffi sing that Kieci 
 Waltz ! Joe hardly spoke to Lewis coming home. " 
 
 " Pshaw ! " interrupted Lewis. 
 
 " You know she didn't ; of course, I understood 
 it. She broke her new sandal-wood fan, she flirt 
 ed it so hard to show she didn't care." 
 
 " And Kate had five gentlemen around her at 
 once," said Lewis, in self-defence, for Agnes was 
 looking at him with an inquiring scrutiny. 
 
 "I dare say." And Mr. Churchill, senior, 
 gave that low, mellow, but all-pervading laugh 
 that was so peculiar to him, betokening satisfac 
 tion with self and the world in general. " What 
 a puss ! " It was plain to see what delight he took 
 in the conquests of his peculiar pet by the pinch 
 he gave her white arm shining through the lace of 
 her flowing sleeves. 
 
 " She kept them all going at once," added her 
 brother, wickedly, " like Signor Blitz and his half 
 dozen dancing plates."
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 133 
 
 " A great pity if Joe and I couldn't have two 
 and a half apiece. Besides, little Martin only 
 counts half a one at any time. He says he shall be 
 at riding-school in the morning ; and that reminds 
 me Joe is coming in early to try that duo in Sem- 
 iramide they sung to-night. Oh, Agnes, I wish 
 you could have heard it ! How well Truffi dresses ! 
 doesn't she, Lewis? though you don't know, of 
 course. Some of them get themselves up abomi 
 nably. I saw Pierson Hunter's head popping up, 
 every now and then, from that orchestra trap-door 
 arrangement. Didn't you, Lewis ? Joe says he 
 was at the Birneys, last Friday, and actually 
 danced." 
 
 The silvery chime of the mantel-clock broke 
 in on this lively tirade. 
 
 " Eleven ! is it possible ? Well, I must march 
 off to bed, if I am to be up so early. Good night, 
 mother ! good night, papa ! " And she stooped to 
 kiss him heartily before she vanished. 
 
 " "What a chatterbox ! " said Lewis, as the 
 door closed upon her graceful exit. " She look 
 ed so well, to night, I was really proud of her. " 
 
 " She always will be careless, though," sighed 
 the prudent Mrs. Churchill. " Only see how she
 
 134: LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 leaves her things around the piano and sofa 
 fairly strewn with them ; and there are her carriage 
 boots on the mantel-piece." 
 
 " Never mind ! I will take up the entire collec 
 tion," said Agnes, rising, with a sudden recollec 
 tion of the lateness of the hour. 
 
 As she passed her father, he drew her down, 
 and kissed her forehead. " Good-night, dear 
 daughter ! " And there was a shade more of ear 
 nestness in his tone than when addressing the pet 
 ted Kate. 
 
 She was scarcely seated at her desk to note 
 down the more needful memoranda of her visits 
 when Lewis knocked for admission. 
 
 " Busy ? I did not think you would work so 
 late ; and somehow an evening never seems fin 
 ished until we have had our talk." 
 
 " Come in ; the morning will do quite as well, 
 perhaps better than to-night ; I am quite stupid." 
 And she pushed the papers away to show him that 
 he was welcome. Certainly all the elements for a 
 cozy chat were there ; and Lewis stretched himself 
 lazily by the fire, and absently took up a paper 
 knife by way of a screen. 
 
 " "What made you so sober to-night, Agnes ? "
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 135 
 
 "Where? at the tea-table? I was thinking 
 of a family I had seen this afternoon, especially 
 of a young girl scarcely older than Kate, and 
 what thoughtless, purposeless lives these two were 
 leading, when so many of their own age had actu 
 ally commenced ' the struggle for life.' " 
 
 " You do not like Josephine ! " 
 
 " I do not dislike her," said Agnes, evasively. 
 " She is certainly amiable and lady-like, but as 
 thoughtless as Kate herself, and " 
 
 "And what?" 
 
 " Characterless. If there was necessity, Kate's 
 natural energy would exert itself. I do not think 
 Josephine has the same decision and strength of 
 purpose to fall back upon." 
 
 " What about that family you saw to-day ? " 
 asked Lewis, changing the subject abruptly. 
 
 Agnes's face lighted. 
 
 " Oh, I told you something about them two or 
 three weeks ago, or of one of them a little girl 
 with very wistful eyes, and such fair hair." 
 
 " In tangles, that might be curls for the brush 
 ing," said Lewis, quoting from the previous de 
 scription. 
 
 " Yes ; that's the one."
 
 136 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 " She promised to come to Sunday-school, or 
 something of that sort, didn't she ? " 
 
 " She wanted to come. The child was anxious 
 enough ; but there was a mother to be asked. 
 They live in Shippen Court." 
 
 " What ! below Almond Street ? Why, Agnes, 
 what walks you take ! You ought to arrange it 
 so as to have the carriage. It's out of the world." 
 
 " Not quite. Besides, I patronize omnibuses 
 liberally. Ruth Norton, that nice little old body 
 you know, told me she was sick. I stopped there 
 to inquire the way." 
 
 " Just what mother said you would happen on 
 after you went out at dinner-time. She had quite 
 a little fever about you. Some one had been tell 
 ing her there was much sickness in the lower part 
 of the city. Really, Agnes, you must be careful ! 
 What in the world should we all do without 
 you ? " 
 
 A bright, affectionate glance thanked him for 
 his brotherly solicitude, as Agnes went on to 
 prove there was no necessity for caution : " It was 
 nothing infectious, or I should not have considered 
 it right to go. A lung fever, or pleurisy, some 
 thing of that sort. The poor little thing had over-
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 13 7 
 
 worked herself. It seems there are younger chil 
 dren in the family, and she has strained herself 
 taking care of them. I saw the mother first 
 not her own mother. She opened the door, and 
 held it just so wide, with a baby in her arms, a 
 cross, sour-looking child." 
 
 " Didn't she ask you in ? " 
 
 " Oh, very few do that ! I'm quite used to it now. 
 I asked if I might come in ; and she looked half 
 inclined to refuse me then. I did not think I 
 should see the child at all. Susie her name is." 
 
 " So I suppose you humbly asked permission 
 for that, too," said Lewis, laughing at the idea of 
 his sister's seeking a favor where he considered her 
 conferring a very great one. 
 
 " I managed to see the child, at any rate, and 
 was more than repaid for the ungraciousness of 
 the mother by the pleasure it gave her. Oh, 
 Lewis, I wish you could have seen that little pale 
 face light up ? I was struck in a moment by the 
 difference between up stairs and down. The room 
 was no better, not so good ; but it positively had 
 an air of elegance. Now, don't laugh ; not in 
 furniture I don't mean that, but the arrange 
 ments."
 
 138 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 " Komantic to the last ! How much am I to 
 allow for embellishments in these narratives of 
 yours ? " 
 
 " Well, let me tell you. There was a dressing- 
 table for one thing one of those pine half circles, 
 I suppose the foundation was, but covered nicely 
 with white, and arranged as carefully as mine is 
 there." 
 
 Agnes glanced contentedly around the room, 
 and thought of the contrast between it and this 
 unknown young girl's humble chamber. She had 
 seen it precisely as it was left by Margaret in the 
 morning : the curtains of cheapest white muslin, 
 looped neatly back ; the bits of carpet on each 
 side of the bed arranged smooth and straight ; the 
 books Margaret's only treasures in perfect order 
 on the swinging shelf ; while a willow work-basket 
 stood before the old-fashioned low wooden chair, 
 half turned to the window. As Agnes had said, 
 despite its plainness and poverty, there was a 
 home-like air through the room, suggestive of nat 
 ural taste and refinement, scarcely less than that 
 exhibited in the pretty trifles she had gathered 
 about her. 
 
 Lewis was the regular recipient of his sister's
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 139 
 
 adventures among her little flock, and listened 
 at first chiefly because he saw she was greatly 
 interested in this new member of it ; but presently 
 the playful carelessness of his expression changed 
 when she came to Susie's artless revelations. A 
 visitor all to herself was a great event to the child 
 above all, such a visitor ! one she had thought 
 so much about, and to whom she could dwell on 
 Margaret's numberless perfections, instinctively 
 sure of sympathy. " Margaret had made the 
 room so neat ; she always kept it just so ; she 
 could not bear to have things lying about ; and 
 she had nursed her so beautifully, and sewed so 
 much for mother, and found time to read to her, 
 too." 
 
 " And such books, Lewis ! " His sister's nat 
 ural enthusiasm rose with her theme. " I looked 
 to see what they were, and I was never more sur 
 prised ; such books as we like Thomas a Kempis ! 
 only think ! and Jeremy Taylor ! half a dozen 
 other volumes that I have here in the book-case ; 
 besides Susie's favorite, ' The Parent's Assistant,' 
 you used to like so much when you were a boy." 
 
 " ' Lazy Lawrence,' and ' The Little Mer 
 chants ! ' I haven't thought of them in an age. I
 
 140 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 suppose you saw this wonderful Margaret ? " 
 And, as he spoke the name, a sudden recollection 
 flashed upon him of those same wistful eyes ap 
 pealing to him from his clerk's teasing, and of the 
 Margaret who had greeted the child so affection 
 ately. 
 
 " No ; but I want you to point her out to me 
 the next time I come to the store. I was quite 
 astonished when her sister wound up the history 
 by telling me she was in it, and how good Mr. 
 Churchill had been ' to let sister stay home a 
 whole week, and nurse her, when the other gentle 
 man said No.' Don't you feel flattered ? " 
 
 But Lewis did not smile now. He was think 
 ing what a very odd coincidence. 
 
 " Is she pretty ? I'm sure she must be ladylike, 
 at all events." 
 
 " Very ladylike, and quiet. I remember about 
 the leave of absence ; she only came back to-day." 
 
 " So Miss Susie informed me, and told me a 
 great many other things. Perhaps I ought not to 
 have listened ; but it appeared to give the child 
 so much pleasure ; and I don't know when I have 
 been so much interested. I should suppose Mar 
 garet nearly supported the whole family."
 
 MAEGAKET'S HOME. 141 
 
 " "Where's the father ? What is he ? " 
 
 " A genius, as near as I could make out, slight 
 ly mad on the subject of perpetual motion, or some 
 such fancy. Susie said something about a patent 
 that took so much money, and her father making 
 machinery." 
 
 " I know him about him, I mean. Is that 
 her father ? Mr. Dunlap was telling me only a 
 few days ago. He applied to him to get some 
 kind of a patent through. Why, Agnes, it's odd, 
 isn't it ? " 
 
 " Yery," said Agnes, warmly. " It's hard, 
 though, for this young girl, isn't it ? And then 
 the mother and those children ! She must have a 
 great deal to contend with, though Susie was too 
 well taught to speak of family differences. I could 
 see for myself, when I came down stairs again, the 
 mother evidently did not like my long stay. I am 
 very glad I went, though she would not give a 
 promise about the Sunday-school. I don't intend 
 to lose sight of them." 
 
 Lewis did not volunteer any remark. She 
 looked to see what occupied him. It was the 
 broken fan, Josephine Wright's, which he had taken 
 out of his pocket, and was trying to put together.
 
 142 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 " So it was true, then, Josephine's mishap." 
 She thought perhaps he was tired of hex protegees, 
 and, grateful for the interest he had already shown, 
 was ready to talk of what he cared so much for. 
 " You will have to give her another. Christmas 
 will be a good opportunity." 
 
 "Yes. It is almost here. What made you 
 look at me so steadily when Kate told that ridicu 
 lous story ? She broke it tying her hood, just as 
 we came away ; and, as a dutiful cavalier, I pick 
 ed up the pieces." 
 
 " Oh, we had been holding a council of war 
 father, and mother, and ' sister Agnes ! ' Father 
 asked who had gone with you, and then suggested 
 that it was high time you were married." 
 
 " To Josephine !" Lewis started up, and lean 
 ed against the mantel in an attitude particularly 
 manish, back to the fire. 
 
 " Not exactly." Agnes scarcely knew whether 
 to smile or be troubled at the start. " That made 
 him think of it, I suppose, at the moment ; and 
 mamma said there was a house next to Anne's that 
 would just suit young beginners. I suppose Anne 
 had said how nice it would be if you should marry 
 and take it. Mother was in raptures with Char-
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 143 
 
 ley, as usual. He really tries to walk a little. I 
 don't know but I'm quite as proud of him as they 
 are." 
 
 " Agnes," said Lewis, relapsing into a gravity 
 more like the " young Mr. Churchill " of the store 
 than any look he had worn since entering the house, 
 " why is it that the best of people can't let well 
 enough alone, and are always match-making for 
 any one who has reached twenty-five or seven, 
 without making one for themselves ? Can't people 
 be just as happy single? Is Anne any better off 
 than you are with her housekeeping troubles and 
 Charley's teeth ! Now, do you really think so, 
 Agnes ? " 
 
 A shadow, as of sudden painful thought, pass 
 ed over the face into which he looked so earnestly ; 
 but he was too much engrossed with the thought 
 of the moment to remember what secret spring 
 he had touched. 
 
 " Those who love each other truly think it the 
 only real happiness marriage, I mean. Father 
 and mother, now what satisfaction they take in 
 each other's society, and in us ! That is what I 
 often think of. Single life is well enough in youth, 
 with its hundred pleasures and pursuits, or through
 
 144: LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 life, if God so order it ; but, if He leaves the choice 
 to us a childless, companionless old age ! think 
 of it, Lewis ! how much life-discipline it will take 
 to make us cheerful then, unselfish, and useful to 
 others, feeling all the while that there is no one 
 on whom you have the claim of the nearest ties 
 and affections ! " 
 
 That she had thought of it with more than com 
 mon feeling was evident in the tremulous though 
 eager tone in which she spoke. 
 
 " Forgive me, sister ! I did not think ! do for 
 give me ! " Lewis took the hands she had uncon 
 sciously clasped together in his own. " But let 
 me ask you one thing more. I am in serious ear 
 nest. Tell me what you think are the elements of 
 a happy marriage what should you look to first 
 of all." 
 
 " Principle," said Agnes, earnestly, " religious 
 principle ; for all others will be found wanting, if 
 it be put to the test of a harsh experience ; and 
 then there is no fear of habit or temper, if it be 
 carried into daily life. ' Charity suffereth long, 
 and is kind,' you know, ' doth not behave itself 
 unseemly.' That whole description is only the
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 
 
 portrait of a true Christian woman or man, thought 
 ful, considerate for others, gentle in speech and 
 action, the truest refinement. This, united with 
 sympathy of intellect and heart, goes to make up 
 the firm, unshaken trust and life-long friendship 
 which seem to me the only true marriage." 
 
 "Thank you, Agnes," said her brother, ab 
 ruptly ; " God bless you, dear sister ! " 
 
 So they separated ; but she heard him, long 
 after, walking up and down in his own room, the 
 movement betraying in him restless thought or 
 quiet deliberation. For herself, painful memories, 
 and long-stifled yearnings had been called forth, 
 an old struggle renewed, which she had thought 
 ended forever ; and she could only pray for the 
 peace which it was the study of her life to attain, 
 and which is surely promised to those who seek it. 
 As if in answer to the strong crying of her 
 lonely heart, the rhythm of one of her favorite 
 Keble's most consoling thoughts floated like a strain 
 of music through her mind as she tried to find for- 
 getfulness of the past in sleep ; 
 
 " Why should we faint, and fear to live alone, 
 
 Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we dieT 
 
 Not even the tenderest heart, and next our own, 
 
 Knows half the reason why we smile or sigh."
 
 146 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 And again : 
 
 " O Lord, my God, do Thou Thy holy will ! 
 
 1 will lie still. 
 I will not stir, lest I forsake Thine arm, 
 
 And break the charm 
 
 Which lulls me, clinging to my 'Father's breast, 
 In perfect rest. 
 
 "To the still wrestlings of the lonely heart, 
 
 He doth impart 
 The virtue of that midnight agony 
 
 When none was nigh 
 Save God, and one good angel to assuage 
 
 The tempest's rage."
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 14/T 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 THERE are some days occurring in protracted 
 storms when the clouds break away unexpectedly, 
 and the sunshine and blue sky gladden us, though 
 we say to ourselves, unbelievingly, that it cannot 
 last, and there is more darkness for the morrow. 
 So it was in Margaret's horizon the day of her re 
 turn to her duties. Her heart beat free and fast. 
 Her step unconsciously followed the quickened 
 pulse. It was more physical than mental exhilara 
 tion, for there were the little debts of the week 
 past rising now and then to her remembrance like 
 sharp stings. There was the danger of a relapse 
 for Susie, especially now that she was left to her 
 self again ; and the moral atmosphere of her home 
 was unchanged, after all her seeking for peace. 
 But she kept all these afterthoughts in abeyance ; 
 she was returning to active duty ; Susie was bet 
 ter for the time, at least ; the sun shone ; the air
 
 148 LOSS AND GAIN ; OE, 
 
 was fresh and bracing. Margaret wondered how 
 she could have given up so entirely to despondency 
 the week before. 
 
 There was one unacknowledged element in this 
 change of mood. She should see the kind friend 
 who had procured her the respite so much desired, 
 and perhaps have an opportunity to thank him, and 
 say that her sister was convalescent, as he had 
 kindly hoped she would be. 
 
 How cheerful the old store looked that morn 
 ing ! How pleased the girls seemed to be in hav 
 ing her back again ! She felt a kindly glow to 
 wards all ; and they noticed how communicative 
 and even playful she had grown in her absence. 
 
 " It's just one of Addy Long's stories, depend 
 upon it," said Marianne, as she left the little cloak- 
 ing-room. 
 
 " What is ? " asked a new-comer, who had been 
 appointed to her situation since Margaret had left. 
 " Who is that the girl that just spoke to you ? 
 What a sweet smile she has, and a nice figure, 
 too ! If she only was dressed better, she would 
 be what people call queenly." 
 
 Miss McHvaine was fond of novel-reading, 
 and used superlatives.
 
 MAHGAKET'S HOME. 149 
 
 " Margaret Grant queenly ! in that everlasting 
 chintz frock and linen collar ! " 
 
 There was a false note in the laugh which Ad- 
 dy Long, just entering, intended to be extremely 
 merry a harsh, scornful tone, that jarred all the 
 more coming from such beautiful lips. 
 
 " Is that Miss Grant ? I thought you said she 
 was not coming back." 
 
 " Well, I did think so ; but it seems she's here 
 again ; can't take a hint ; it was a polite way of 
 giving her a dismissal, for nobody ever heard of 
 leave of absence, except one week in summer, 
 when Caleb Choate is about. ' Pity she hadn't un 
 derstood it ! " 
 
 " What makes you always so spiteful towards 
 Margaret ? " asked Ellen Boyne, who was never 
 afraid of expressing her opinion. " For my part, 
 I don't believe there's any thing wrong at all ; or, 
 if there is, it isn't Margaret." 
 
 Addy Long turned with a stamp of her foot 
 and an angry light in her eyes 
 
 " What do you mean, Ellen Boyne ? Do you 
 mean me ? You'd better not ! " 
 
 " Take any cap that fits," returned the other, 
 with provoking carelessness. " Those that live in
 
 150 LOSS AND GAIN; OE, 
 
 glass houses know whether stones hurt. You're 
 jealous of her ; you know you are. You've been 
 ten times as spiteful since Lemon actually went to 
 see her." 
 
 " The best thing he could do. Once was enough. 
 I only wish you could hear him tell it himself ! 
 Though, to be sure, he only went out of curiosity. 
 Of course, such a man as Albert Wood never 
 could fancy such a plain, stuck-up creature." 
 
 " There she goes ! " said Ellen to her new ac 
 quaintance ; " that's just like her ! She can't bear 
 to have any of us noticed, and is jealous of Mar 
 garet about customers and all. For my part, I 
 don't care a pin, only Margaret's worth ten of her. 
 You'll find us all out in time." 
 
 Fortunately for Margaret's present mood, the 
 hurry of the day prevented any collision between 
 herself and her pretty neighbor ; although it gave 
 her only the most distant glimpse of Mr. Churchill, 
 and allowed no opportunity for thanks. So the 
 hours ran on smoothly enough ; and at night 
 came an unlooked-for happiness. 
 
 Do not smile, dear ladies, because the unex 
 pected receipt of so pitiful a sum as four dollars 
 made Margaret happy. It would be nothing to
 
 MAKGAEET'S HOME. 151 
 
 Mrs. Bond, whose husband, having been success 
 ful in yesterday's speculation^ has divided with 
 her and poured ten bright golden eagles into her 
 willing hand. Josephine Wright, with a party of 
 young friends, has just spent the amount, without 
 a thought, for confectionery, at Parkinson's. But 
 Jogephine has only to say, " Please, Papa," and 
 display her empty purse to have it filled again. 
 Mrs. Bond has hurried down town, not to settle 
 her little bill for the party dresses, but to spend half 
 of this unlooked-for prize in a set of lace and em 
 broidery, to be worn with the brocade. Mrs. Bond 
 thinks for she does think sometimes what weary 
 work those store girls have ; and wonders what en 
 joyment of life ever falls to their share. She has 
 forgotten that a new pupil once caused her more 
 pleasure than the set she has just secured at twice 
 the cost of the lessons she toiled through cold and 
 heat to give. 
 
 The regular day of settlement for the salaries 
 had occurred in Margaret's absence ; and, while 
 she was thinking within herself whether to ask Mr. 
 Choate for the amount due her, which was most 
 pressingly needed at home, one of the cash boys 
 laid a note on the counter before her. It was
 
 152 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 an unprecedented thing with her to receive a letter 
 from any one ; but the clear handwriting on this 
 envelop left no place for speculation as to its au 
 thorship. It was the simplest of business trans 
 actions ; yet Margaret's heart overflowed with 
 happy thoughts as she read it : 
 
 " Hiss Grant will please find enclosed the amount of her 
 month's salary. 
 
 "LEWIS CHURCHILL." 
 
 There was the amount in full ; but it might 
 have been an oversight ; if not, how very kind and 
 thoughtful ! Mr. Choate would know when she 
 went to sign her receipt ; but Mr. Choate was not 
 disposed to countenance this irregularity by dis 
 cussion. "If his partner had enclosed it, there 
 could be no error. Mr. Churchill was always cor 
 rect." Even Miss Choate was transiently softened 
 for Margaret's day of sunshine, and appeared a de 
 gree less curt and unapproachable than usual. Ellen 
 Boyne was folding together a remnant of moussel- 
 ine as she returned to her post. " Pretty, isn't it ? 
 Somebody will get a child's frock out of it at a 
 bargain," she said, holding it up for a moment to 
 pin a memorandum of the reduced price upon it. 
 It was the crimson pattern Susie had admired so
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 153 
 
 much. Margaret had seldom made even the most 
 trifling purchase without the grave deliberation 
 which necessity had made second habit ; but just 
 at that moment she felt so rich, and so hopeful for 
 the future she could not have told why that she 
 made Susie a sharer in the day's happiness by the 
 purchase of the coveted frock. 
 
 The weight of the little package, trifling as it 
 was, kept her in a glow of satisfaction all the way 
 home, although the weather had changed, and long 
 before her walk was ended the feathery snow-flakes 
 had covered the side-walk. Fortune had certainly 
 conspired towards Margaret's red-letter day. Her 
 father was at home before her, an unusual thing of 
 late ; and Mrs. Grant, with her baby on her lap, 
 sat comfortably before the stove, her face beaming 
 with the effulgence of the cloud-castles she was al 
 ready constructing. 
 
 " Ah, Margaret ! " and her father started up 
 as she opened the door " tired, eh ? Snowing ? 
 "Why, you don't say it's snowing ! I just came in, 
 and I didn't notice it. Never mind ; you won't 
 have the walk much longer. There's not a doubt 
 left now " and out leaped the precious tidings 
 
 7*
 
 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 " not a doubt. "We're just as sure of that patent 
 as we are of New Year." 
 
 " Oh, father ! " she was just in the mood to 
 be dazzled by the prospect " oh, it can't really be 
 so!" 
 
 " Sure as fate ; though we sha'n't hear positive 
 ly for a day or two yet. Mr. Adams wouldn't 
 make Cooper an offer for his share on an uncertain 
 ty. No, of course not, such a matter-of-fact man 
 as he is ! " 
 
 " Did he really ? Oh, father, what if it should 
 come to anything after all ! " 
 
 " Should ? Why, it has child ! You shall 
 have every cent back, and more, too, next month, 
 this time." 
 
 " The first thing to be done is to move into a 
 little more respectable neighborhood," suggested 
 Mrs. Grant, whose ideas of gentility had never been 
 satisfied with a court life. " I should think we 
 might go into South or Lombard. There's some 
 nice private houses in South ; and one thing I'm 
 bound to have front stairs, and a stair-carpet, and 
 brasses something like folks. I've lived long 
 enough in this kind of style, I can tell you ! " 
 
 The door at the foot of the offending back
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 155 
 
 stairs was open. " Margaret ! "called a faint, im 
 patient little voice from the chamber above. 
 
 " Yes, dear." And, hiding the child's present 
 under her shawl, with a half smile of expectancy 
 at the pleasure it was to give, Margaret turned to go. 
 
 " Oh, Margaret ! " called her father, " you had 
 better say to Mr. Churchill, to-morrow, that he 
 must look out for some one to take your place. 
 I can't have a child of mine standing behind a 
 counter, at any one's beck and call after this ! " 
 
 The poor haggard face lighted up with a piti 
 ful pride ; but it was only natural when such great 
 good fortune had befallen him, and when he real 
 ly loved Margaret better than anything but this 
 dumb idol, this patent. 
 
 " Oh, dear, I thought you never would come 
 up ! What were you all talking about down 
 there ? " was Susie's salutation. " Never mind, 
 though, now. The lady's been here, Margaret 
 been here to see me, just me ! and she stayed oh, 
 ever so long, and talked so much ! " 
 
 Here Susie's conscience checked her a little ; 
 for, now that she came to think of it, she had done 
 most of the talking herself. 
 
 " "What lady ? " said Margaret, holding up the
 
 156 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 package. " See there, Miss Susie, somebody's 
 Christmas present ! " 
 
 " Did you have one ? Did Mr. Churchill give 
 it to you ? Oh, I'm so glad ! " 
 
 It never occurred to Susie that she could be the 
 recipient. 
 
 Margaret snapped the string of the parcel, and 
 tossed it into the bed. 
 
 " Does that look like me ? who said they 
 thought it was pretty enough for a queen." 
 
 Susie was no monarchist. All her queens dwelt 
 in fairy-land ; and, when Margaret had lighted the 
 lamp, and held it close to the soft, bright folds, 
 Susie thought that if winter ever came to that bliss 
 ful region, Titania herself might be glad to have 
 anything so pretty in her wardrobe. Even the 
 visit which she had been burning with impatience 
 to tell Margaret about was eclipsed for the time. 
 Susie had never had an entirely new dress bought for 
 her in all her life before. She returned to its con 
 templation constantly through the evening, break 
 ing off from fragmentary snatches of the visitor's 
 conversation, and did not at all mind Margaret's 
 preoccupation, as she bent over her needle. 
 
 Down stairs, there was a murmur of voices un-
 
 MAJJGAEET'S HOME. 157 
 
 til long after Susie fell asleep, wondrous plans laid 
 for the future, interspersed with reflections from 
 Mrs. Grant " on people that had held their heads 
 a little too high, and were now to see that some 
 other people were as good as they." Mrs. Grant's 
 world was quite as well worth striving to outshine, 
 in her estimation, as your world and my world 
 seem to us ; and she gloried chiefly in the sensa 
 tion she was about to make in its midst. 
 
 Margaret's secret exultation may have been 
 equally at fault ; but, for that night at least, she 
 gave full scope to imagination, and dreamed wak 
 ing dreams of the possible. Her heart had given 
 a great bound, and freed itself from the restraint 
 in which it had been held so firmly. If it were so, 
 all true, as her father said, what strange things 
 might not come to pass ! And she took out the 
 little note, looking through a bewildering mist at 
 the clear, decided signature of a name. she denied 
 it to herself no longer that had the power to 
 thrill her heart with almost as wild a pulse as the 
 low words or the kindly glance that had been be 
 stowed on her penury of love and sympathy from 
 time to time. The business formality and coldness
 
 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 were nothing. Her own name and his were writ 
 ten there on the self-same sheet. 
 
 It was a wild reckless mood to which she had 
 given way ; and, though all alone in the solitude 
 of her room, her face burned with blushes at the 
 daring thought that one day they might meet on 
 more equal ground, where it would be no longer 
 madness to return the kindly pressure of his hand, 
 and look up into his eyes. She did not check it 
 fully ;*no, not even when she felt that the dream 
 came between her soul and Heaven. She could 
 not cast it out wholly ; and she could not pray 
 while she refused to do so. 
 
 Poor Margaret ! if she could have seen him 
 at that moment, with the intoxicating light and 
 perfume, music and beauty around him, or rising 
 up to leave the crowded hall, with that fair, slender 
 figure leaning so closely on his arm, while he 
 stooped almpst to the touch of those soft curls, in 
 reply to the pretty shiver and complaint of the 
 crowd and the cold night air ! It may be that the 
 angel of sweet dreams might not have met the 
 warning at her pillow 
 
 " Stand off I 
 She sleeps, and did not pray 1 "
 
 MAKGAEET'S HOME. 159 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE snow continued to fall heavily through the 
 night, and, at the early hour which called Mar 
 garet forth, was not removed from the side-walks. 
 It clung to her feet and dress with a dreary chill ; 
 while overhead the clouds hung low and dusky, 
 as if the storm was stayed, not spent ; but, so long 
 as it kept in abeyance, its gift must be improved, 
 and early in the day the merry sound of sleigh- 
 bells broke in upon the jar and clash of wheels in 
 the broader streets. It was too precious and too 
 fleeting for a moment to be wasted ; and, though 
 the equipages were by no means as elegant as 
 where the sleighing carnival is always to be count 
 ed on, and extends to days and weeks instead of 
 hours, comfort and merriment were the order of the 
 day. It was an idle morning in-doors, as well as 
 out ; and every one had leisure to watch and com-
 
 160 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 ment upon those who were enjoying themselves 
 abroad. Even Margaret welcomed the distrac 
 tion from her own thoughts, and leaned with the 
 rest near the gr-eat Arch Street window, as the day 
 wore on ; and the fairy gift already began to van 
 ish before the noonday sun. 
 
 " Who are those in that double sleigh there ? 
 see ! " called out one of the girls, eagerly. " Do 
 take your head out of the way, Margaret ! There ! 
 they're out of sight already ! " 
 
 " "What kind of horses ? " asked the ne*w " young 
 lady," who, having come from Lowry's, took a de 
 cided stand among her new associates. " I know 
 every carriage in town ; but sleighing time puzzles 
 me ; that's the worst of it ; you can't tell who's 
 who." . 
 
 " Oh, look at that little black pony ! what a 
 pretty sleigh ! how they dash along ! don't you 
 envy them, Addy ? " 
 
 " I sha'n't ; if it will only hold out till night, 
 I shall be dashing about myself." And Miss Long 
 glanced complacently towards the side window, 
 where Mr. "Wood was displaying his elegant locks. 
 
 " Every body isn't so fortunate. I never had 
 a sleigh ride in my life, and I never expect to have.
 
 MARGABET'S HOME. 161 
 
 There is that double sleigh again coming up, 
 slower now, too. It's hard work ; the snow has 
 melted so fast the last hour." 
 
 " Why, I know those grays ! to be sure ! Why, 
 they are Mr. Churchill's ! and there are his daugh 
 ters and Mrs. Churchill herself. Who's that on 
 the front seat ? Mr. Churchill has been driving." 
 
 " So it is. They're coming in. Yes, Margaret, 
 who is that with Miss Kate ? Isn't she pretty ? 
 Here come some other people, too. I guess our 
 fun is over for the day." And the little group dis 
 persed reluctantly to attend to the several arrivals. 
 
 Margaret's eyes were fixed unconsciously on 
 the Churchill family, as they were met by Mr. 
 Lewis, who came out of his office, the first time 
 she had seen him that day. The young ladies sel 
 dom came to the store. Miss Churchill did not 
 care for shopping ; and Miss Kate had usually too 
 many engagements with her riding-school, French, 
 music, and visiting, the usual round of young ladies 
 at her age in Philadelphia. On Mrs. Churchill, 
 therefore the chief duty of providing for the family 
 wants fell ; and her kind, motherly face was almost 
 as familiar as her husband's at her son's place of bu 
 siness. Even when she had no special call, she
 
 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 liked to hover about the house-furnishing depart 
 ment, patting the soft English blankets with a loving 
 appreciation, admiring Miss Choate's favorite pat 
 terns of Irish damask, or giving her opinion, at the 
 desire of this estimable custodian, of the new sheet 
 ings and long-cloths. It was evident that her 
 house-keeping filled up what few vacancies were left 
 by her husband and family in the affections of 
 good Mrs. Churchill. 
 
 Straight to Miss Choate's domains she therefore 
 betook herself, her ostensible errand being a piece 
 of huckabuck for the servants' rooms, but which 
 seemed to necessitate an elaborate review of every 
 thing in the form, or that could be cut into the form 
 of towelling, from damask to crash. Agnes accom 
 panied her, and tried to give her opinion without 
 being entirely at random ; but her eyes stayed be 
 hind her if her thoughts had not been left there too ; 
 and, roused into notice by the conversation of the 
 evening before, she watched her brother and the two 
 young people under his charge unconsciously. 
 
 " How plain Miss Churchill is !" said Mariane, 
 coming behind Margaret to replace some silks. 
 " Don't you think so ? She always dresses as if 
 she didn't care how she looked."
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 163 
 
 " I don't think so. She does care enough to 
 have every thing in perfect keeping ; and those 
 plain colors are becoming to her ; with just enough 
 rose-color inside her bonnet to relieve it." 
 
 " Well, the other one is my favorite, any way. 
 Isn't that friend of hers a beauty ? How stylish 
 her cloak is ! It must be French. You know who 
 she is, don't you ? Miss "Wright ! " 
 
 " Oh, such a piece of news ! There ! give me 
 that merino quick ! I only made it an excuse 
 to come and tell you Mr. Churchill's engaged ! " 
 
 " There ! I thought so !" exclaimed Mariane, as 
 Ellen Boyne hurried back to her customer. " I 
 never saw him pay so much attention to any one 
 before. Just see ! Now they're coming this way. 
 She has taken his arm. Yes, it must be so. How 
 devotedly he looks down at her ! See, Margaret, 
 she isn't in the least bashful ! Engaged people 
 do get so swallowed up in each other that they 
 forget it isn't after ten o'clock, and the parlor to 
 themselves all the while." 
 
 She might have gone on any length of time. 
 Margaret had heard nothing since Ellen Boyne's 
 hurried announcement ; and she sought the con 
 firmation with her own eyes, though for a moment
 
 164: LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 every thing grew black before her. It was but an 
 instant, though, and then the mist cleared away, 
 and she saw them very near her Miss "Wright 
 looking up into Mr. Churchill's face, as she made 
 some playful remonstrance ; and she heard his an 
 swer distinctly, and saw the look with which it 
 was accompanied : " Your fan is in safe keeping. 
 I was afraid you would take cold last evening." 
 
 " So they already exchanged love tokens ; and 
 they were together the evening before, at the very 
 time, perhaps, that she was busy with her foolish 
 dreams. Folly ! It was worse than folly un- 
 maidenly. Conscience had whispered that at the 
 time ; but she would not listen ; and now it was 
 sinful, for he was claimed by another. The light, 
 graceful figure, the lovely face, the costly raiment, 
 how every thing combined to mock her ! It was 
 all right. His bride should be fair and tenderly 
 nurtured. She looked down at her coarse dress, 
 and thought of the still, white face the little mir 
 ror had reflected that morning. This young girl 
 was all brilliancy and animation ; her soft, clear 
 laughter, her bantering words, the freedom and 
 naturalness with which she received his attentions, 
 and the smile of satisfaction with which his young-
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 165 
 
 er sister watched their proceedings, left no room 
 for doubt. Indeed, she had not for a moment 
 sought to distract the pang of the announcement 
 by questioning its truth. Why should it not be 
 so? The only wonder was that he had so long 
 remained without a choice among the bright cir 
 cle his sisters drew around them. But no one, no 
 one ever could " And here she checked herself, 
 as a scarlet flush rose and glowed on her face at 
 the bold daring of the thought. Even to herself 
 she would not acknowledge how well she might 
 have loved him. 
 
 It was all over now, though ; and there was 
 nothing to prevent her from wishing him all hap 
 piness ; and she looked again to see if he seemed 
 really so happy as this should make him. But 
 he had left the younger ladies with Mrs. Church 
 ill, and was talking with his elder sister of some 
 thing which she seemed to question and look dis- 
 provingly about ; and then why should they look 
 towards her ? It might be fancy ; and Margaret 
 turned away. But no ; some fascination drew 
 her glance back again ; and she felt that, strange 
 as it might be, they were talking of her, and 
 gravely, too.
 
 166 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 A deeper shame burned in Margaret's cheeks 
 than that which the rebuke of umnaidenly thoughts 
 had called there. In a moment, she seemed to 
 comprehend it. Miss Choate was, in all probabil 
 ity, a sharer in all her brother's affairs. She had 
 been talking to Miss Churchill. She must have 
 told her about the missing robe. The gentle, no 
 ble-looking woman always unconsciously associat 
 ed in Margaret's mind with all things lovely and 
 pure. She knew, then, that a charge which could 
 not be disproved had been made against her ; and 
 henceforth she must shun, rather than love to 
 watch, those deep, far-seeing eyes. 
 
 It was true, Mr. Churchill said he did not cre 
 dit the accusation ; but that was a long time ago ; 
 and it might have been strengthened by those 
 who had ill-will towards her, as she felt sure there 
 were such near at hand. Or his chivalric sympa 
 thy might naturally enough have been overborne 
 by Mr. Caleb's persistence in the charge. "What 
 could Mariane have meant by the mysterious hints 
 that Addy Long had thrown out about her in her 
 absence ? Had the suspicion been gaining ground ? 
 Was it gathering against her, to break forth in 
 open disgrace at any moment ?
 
 MAKGARET'S HOME. 167 
 
 The brother and sister had left the rest, and 
 she thought were turning to come directly past 
 her. " She wishes to see if the guilt is betrayed 
 in the hardened offender's face," thought Marga 
 ret, with a sudden bitter disdain towards them 
 both, towards all, herself even, that she should 
 become the object of such scrutiny. " But I will 
 not bear it ! " And in another moment her place 
 was vacant, only to be resumed when she had as 
 sured hersself, from her retreat in the cloaking- 
 room, that there was no longer any encounter to 
 dread. The square, old-fashioned but ample sleigh 
 was drawn up directly before the window. She 
 saw them come out, the young people first, and 
 stand together on the sidewalk until the elder Mr. 
 Churchill had finished his discussion of the Euro 
 pean news with Mr. Choate. How prettily defin 
 ed was the little foot, tapping the flag-stones with 
 petty impatience ! how clear and joyous those 
 blue eyes, as if they had never known the heavi 
 ness of weeping, even for a broken flower ! And 
 slowly the great gulf between them widened, 
 while Margaret stood face to face with her false 
 dream of the future. How had it mocked her so, 
 the little note placed carefully among her treas-
 
 168 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 ures at home ! How it seemed to chill her as she 
 recalled it word for word ! Yesterday, with its 
 inclosure, it had seemed a token of watchful in 
 terest over her happiness and well-being ; to-day, 
 as alms bestowed upon one whose need stood 
 plainly forth. 
 
 It was her father's credulous hope that had de 
 ceived her. What madness had possessed her to 
 listen to it for a moment ! How often before had 
 success seemed equally certain, only to be follow 
 ed by deeper despondency ! What ground had 
 he given her but his own craving desires, and the 
 assertion of unscrupulous men, to whom it was 
 but a passing thought, while to him it was life it 
 self. How did they really stand ? Poverty, do 
 mestic discord, weary toil were before her, per 
 haps utter loneliness, for how was Susie's enfeebled 
 strength to meet the taskwork that she must soon 
 return to ? Worse than all, at that moment came 
 the sting of a false accusation, robbing her of even 
 respect, where her hungry heart clamored for love 
 and sympathy. 
 
 She stood so self-absorbed in this dreary reve 
 rie, she had not heard any one enter the room, and 
 started, as if an outward real blow had fallen,
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 169 
 
 when Ellen Boyne, coming beside her, said : " How 
 well they look together ! She will make a beau 
 tiful bride, won't she, with that hair and complex 
 ion?" 
 
 Margaret moved away. 
 
 " I must go back. Have I been here long, 
 Ellen?" 
 
 " Long ? Five minutes or so. Another won't 
 make a killing difference, I guess. "Wait a min 
 ute ; I want to tell you something as soon as 
 they're off. Now he's handed her in. You ought 
 to see how he tucks that buffalo robe around her. 
 What a smile he has ! it brightens his whole face 
 so. But la, he's as grave as a judge in the store 
 always ! I wonder when the wedding's going to 
 come off ? " 
 
 " What was it you wanted to tell me ? " said 
 Margaret, longing to escape, yet dreading to bring 
 observation upon herself. She felt as if every one 
 must see the struggle written in her face. 
 
 " Oh, there they go at last ! Now he's wav 
 ing his hand to her. Oh, I was going to tell you 
 how I found out about it ! I was up in Miss 
 Choate's dominions after a piece of napkins for 
 Mrs. Lovel, you know. I was waiting on her.
 
 1TO LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 Well, while Spectacles was hunting about for it, 
 I heard Mrs. Churchill say : ' I don't want the 
 things just yet ; but I thought I might as well 
 be looking about. Of course, I shall have it all 
 on my hands. Lewis has not the faintest idea of 
 furnishing a house.' Miss Choate asked if it was 
 ' a settled thing ;' just like her. She conies under 
 that head any way ; and I didn't hear the first of 
 what Mrs. Churchill said ; but the end was that 
 they had known each other a long time, and Miss 
 "Wright was an intimate friend of her daughters." 
 Margaret was gone without comment before 
 this precious bit of gossip was concluded ; but 
 she could not escape. Such astonishing news 
 was not to be set aside in a hurry by twenty 
 young damsels, to whom weddings were the chief 
 end of feminine existence ; and she was doomed 
 to hear it reviewed and commented on to the mi 
 nutest item throughout the day.
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 171 
 
 CHAPTEK XIII. 
 
 " ONE moment, Miss Grant, if I might pre 
 sume ! " called out Mr. Wood, as, thankful for the 
 hour of release, she hurried from the door. 
 
 Mr. Wood was evidently bent on bestowing 
 " the pleasure of his company ;" and Margaret, 
 though resentful, submitted passively, rather than 
 subject herself to a scene. Just at this moment, 
 when she could scarcely control her thoughts, it 
 irritated her to be required to listen to his ele 
 vated conversation. 
 
 " A happy event this unexpected denouement^ 
 we might call it our principal's engagement. Ex 
 cellent example, however, for us young people ; 
 something that comes sooner or later to all human 
 ity, old bachelors excepted." And Mr. Wood's 
 tone seemed to express a determination to submit
 
 172 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 to liis inevitable fate manfully when it did over 
 take him. " Charming face Miss "Wright's. I 
 have frequently admired her at the concerts, and 
 occasionally when I have been thrown in her vi 
 cinity at the theatre. Golden charms, besides. 
 When one is eminently a practical person, like 
 myself, for instance, such things will weigh. 
 Doubtless our principal has an eye to substantial 
 ' flowers that never fade,' to borrow from the 
 poets. In a wife, now, Miss Grant in a wife, 
 every thing ought to to centre. Don't you 
 think so ? elegance with utility, to make myself 
 clearer." 
 
 Margaret bowed in response, and said she 
 scarcely knew what. She only wished that Miss 
 Long had not departed at an earlier hour than 
 usual. It was to this that she was probably in 
 debted for Mr. Wood's attendance on herself. 
 His thoughts had also turned in the direction of 
 their mutual acquaintance. 
 
 " Miss Wright is not unlike Miss Long in fig 
 ure and general app earance. Strange coincidence ! 
 If Miss Long only possessed some of Miss Wright's 
 solid attractions, what a prize she would become ! 
 Lovely creature ! Miss Long I refer to now. On
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 173 
 
 the whole, I think her rather superior to Miss 
 Wright more style, decidedly so guileless, too, 
 so confiding. Do you know, Miss Grant, I dote 
 on confidingness in women ; it is so so so sweet, 
 somehow." 
 
 Something of Margaret's old merriment, like 
 a fountain long choked by weeds and rubbish, 
 bubbled up, and overflowed in smiles that the par 
 tial darkness concealed from her escort. They were 
 nearing Chestnut Street, where she hoped to be 
 relieved of his society. " Addy is certainly very 
 beautiful," she said, finding that he still paused 
 for an audible response. 
 
 " By the way, that is a most unfortunate af 
 fair " and Mr. "Wood's face contracted to a close 
 imitation of Mr. Choate's habitual frown when in 
 deep thought " most unfortunate to have sus 
 picion come prowling ' like an armed man ' among 
 its. Of course, I allude to the suspicion that has 
 fallen on some of the young ladies in your depart 
 ment. Miss Long informs me, though she did not 
 specify the charge, that it has been pointed to one 
 especially ; and I trust the rest will soon be re 
 lieved from unjust censure by the punishment of 
 the guilty party. Concealment is useless in such
 
 174: LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 a case ; and though a person might be said to 
 stand 
 
 ' High as heaven, 
 And fair as light,' 
 
 justice tracks home the guilty secret. Every ef 
 fort is being made I understand. Of course, I 
 venture no personal allusions. Ah, here is Chestnut 
 Street ! I have the honor to wish Miss Grant a 
 very good evening." And, adding a malicious 
 glance to his parting thrust, Mr. Wood betook 
 himself to the almost deserted promenade, to pass 
 the remaining half hour before the shops were 
 fairly closed, as a man of elegant leisure. 
 
 Margaret hurried on, feeling that her humiliation 
 was complete, open insult added to all that had 
 gone before that day ; and what was this net of 
 suspicion and disgrace that seemed to be inclosing 
 her on every side ? where had it originated ? how 
 had she become so openly involved without being 
 able to move hand or foot to free herself ? 
 
 Second Street was brilliantly lighted ; for Christ 
 mas being close at hand, every attraction was put 
 forth in the shop windows to passers-by. Conspic 
 uous among the almost unbroken line, the milliners 
 displayed their graceful wares headdresses and
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 1Y5 
 
 plumes, suggestive of holiday merry-making caps 
 for more elderly party-goers, bright with knots of 
 ribbon, and flowers, brighter than prize gardeners 
 ever grew, blooming perennially in their velvet 
 and gauze freshness. Bonnets were, after all, the 
 chief article of commerce, chiefly noticeable for 
 their brilliant hues and the variety of their dec 
 orations, pink and green being evidently the fa 
 vorite colors of ladies shopping in Second Street, 
 to judge from the stock on hand. Many a young 
 girl occupied as Margaret was through the week, 
 hurried here to spend the little that remained of 
 her month's wages in some showy piece of finery. 
 She could almost point them out, as they hovered 
 about the enchanted windows, and passed back 
 and forth from one establishment to another, fear 
 ful lest they should not get the most becoming or 
 the most fashionable bonnet to be had. 
 
 " Everybody has some enjoyment but me," 
 thought Margaret. ' " Perhaps they are the wise 
 ones, after all, and I the one to be pitied, as I 
 have often pitied them. They are satisfied at least, 
 and enjoy every thing as they go along. What 
 is the use of trying to live a higher or a better 
 life, always to be mocked, always to fail, even
 
 176 LOSS AOT> GAIN; OK, 
 
 when doing my best ? I'm tired of it ; I will not 
 struggle on another day. There's Addy Long, 
 even, happier than I am. She has all she aims 
 at, and more, too. Nobody blames her, nobody 
 suspects her ; and yet I believe in my heart " 
 No, she could not go that length, even in her bit 
 ter mood ; she could not accuse another without 
 proof ; and she tried to drown all thought as she 
 turned aside from the more brilliant thoroughfare, 
 with a sudden recollection of an unfulfilled prom 
 ise to Mrs. Grant. 
 
 It was to call for a new bonnet which had been 
 ordered, notwithstanding the pressing need of the 
 family ; for, although she talked much of never 
 having any thing like other people, she usually 
 contrived to shine forth resplendently when she 
 made her appearance in the street. Even in this, 
 Margaret was obliged to use self-control. She 
 was neither " good nor happy," as Susie would 
 have said, this evening ; and the errand reminded 
 her of the necessity that she herself should wear 
 the twice re-made bonnet, her best already for 
 two winters, that Mrs. Grant's new purple satin 
 might be honestly paid for. 
 
 The little bell at the door-handle gave a shrill
 
 MAJRGAKET'S HOME. 177 
 
 warning of her entrance to the dimly lighted shop. 
 Its business did not thrive sufficiently to allow of 
 a more than the one oil-lamp in the window, which 
 did its best to light up the festoons of faded rib 
 bons and cotton laces around it not that its pro 
 prietor lacked skill and taste in her little business ; 
 on the contrary, she had a local reputation for 
 both, and was always promising herself to move 
 up into Second Street, where she could have a 
 better window and gas, and employ more hands ; 
 but the husband, always out of work, and the 
 sickly little children that hung about her knees, 
 kept her back, so that she barely fed and clothed 
 them. 
 
 Margaret knew something of her story, and so 
 tried not to feel impatient when the woman made 
 her appearance from the inner room, with her 
 pale, anxious face, and pincushion in hand. " The 
 bonnet was almost done ; ten minutes would com 
 plete it, if Miss Grant could wait so long. She 
 was fitting a young lady, a new customer, and al 
 most through, if Miss Grant would have the good 
 ness to sit down five minutes, and please to excuse 
 her." 
 
 There was nothing in this dreary little shop, 
 ft*
 
 178 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 with its almost empty show-cases, to change the 
 current of Margaret's thoughts. She read and 
 re-read in the attempt to divert them, the tin sign 
 over the inner door which had a sash window 
 and white curtain " Millinery and Dressmaking 
 done here," and was fast relapsing into the misera 
 ble restlessness of the day, when she was startled by 
 a familiar voice from the room to which the dress 
 maker had returned : " As tight as you can, now, 
 without straining the seams." 
 
 Surely that was Addy Long herself ; but what 
 had brought her to this out-of-the-way place, when 
 she prided herself so on being fashionable ? 
 
 The dressmaker had left the door sligtly ajar. 
 
 " You will be sure to have it done by Tuesday 
 evening, now. Don't disappoint me for more 
 than you are worth." 
 
 " It is for a ball, I suppose. Yes, I can make 
 it a little tighter, and the side seams to slope 
 more ; but your waist is small enough, any way." 
 
 The shop was so still, Margaret could hear the 
 worry of a child on the floor, the click of the scis 
 sors, and the very crackle of the lining, as the pins 
 made their way through it. 
 
 " It's an elegant thing," said the woman, after
 
 _ MAKGAKET'S HOME. 179 
 
 a little pause, evidently occupied by her customer 
 by a self-satisfied survey of her slender waist and 
 sloping shoulders in the glass. " It must have 
 cost a great deal. It's handsome enough for a 
 wedding dress." 
 
 " Perhaps it may be ; who knows ? " And 
 there was a little laugh, as if the idea was not al 
 together new or unpleasant. " I got it for a party, 
 though, Tuesday night. It's going to be a splen 
 did affair." 
 
 " Well, I shouldn't wonder if you was the belle 
 there, flounces is so becoming to your figure. Is 
 that low enough on the shoulders ? "Well, a trifle 
 more. There ! " 
 
 The curtain of the door moved a little just as 
 Margaret, impelled by mingled fear and hope, rose 
 silently to her feet. Oh, if she could just touch 
 that door one inch further! and she might have 
 proof, perhaps, not of the sin of another, it scarce 
 ly crossed her mind in the sudden hope of freeing 
 herself from all suspicion. A shadow moved up 
 and down on the curtain, a half-grown nurse toss 
 ing a fretful child to keep it quiet ; and then it 
 was wholly withdrawn, the sharp little faces of 
 the nurse and her charge being pressed against
 
 180 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 the glass in childish curiosity to see " the lady 
 waiting." 
 
 The dressmaker and her customer both stood 
 with their backs towards the door ; and it was 
 Addy Long's bright but evil face that was reflect 
 ed in the mirror, as she surveyed her heightened 
 beauty with visible satisfaction. Her hair, always 
 elaborately plaited, stood out in full bands from 
 her round, freshly-tinted face ; her eyes were bright 
 with anticipated triumph ; the white, drooping 
 shoulders, the slender waist, draped lightly with 
 the gauzy folds of a soft, floating tissue. Fatal 
 temptation ! fatal triumph ! The missing robe 
 was found ! 
 
 Margaret stood quite still, and wrung her hands 
 closely : consciousness itself seemed for a mo 
 ment to be forsaking her. But there was a 
 quick movement from within. The young girl 
 had caught sight, in the mirror, of the curtain 
 withdrawn, and turned sharply round to the 
 child, a guilty fear even then clouding her first 
 satisfaction. Margaret saw her face still more 
 distinctly for a moment ; then the curtain fell, 
 and she heard an admonitory blow administered
 
 MAJKGABET'S HOME. 181 
 
 by the overtasked, irritated mistress to the tired 
 bound girl. 
 
 Margaret sat down again, stunned, as if she 
 herself had received it, unable to decide on any 
 thing. Her first impulse was to rush away out 
 into the night, back to the store perhaps it was 
 not too late to his home, if he had gone there 
 anywhere, that she might clear herself in the eyes 
 of one whose opinion was her world. Or, she 
 could confront the real culprit, there where she 
 stood with the glittering evidence of her guilt 
 about her, and force a confession from her before 
 witnesses ? It would be very cruel ; but had she 
 not been cruelly dealt by, treacherously injured by 
 the very one she shrank from exposing? But 
 while these things whirled through her mind, the 
 door opened, and Adelaide came out dressed for 
 the street. There was no time to lose. She stood 
 on the step separating the two rooms for a mo 
 ment, one foot balanced for the descent, while she 
 gave a parting charge, then passed so close that 
 the hem of their dresses swept together ; and Mar 
 garet's outstretched hand could have detained her. 
 But she did not raise it, did not speak, scarcely 
 breathe, lest she should lose all self-control, and
 
 182 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 deny the creed wMcli she had tried to make the 
 daily rule of her life, and which even now rose 
 warningly through the chaos of her thoughts: 
 "Whatsoever ye would that men should do to 
 you, do ye even also so to them."
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 183 
 
 CHAPTEK XIV. 
 
 " ISN'T it most time to get ready for cliurcli, 
 sister ? " 
 
 Susie had been promised that she should sit 
 up all the afternoon, and was in a great hurry to 
 have the morning go by. The bells were ringing, 
 and Margaret had accomplished her double duty 
 the work down stairs, and the care of their own 
 room ; yet she still sat by the window, leaning 
 her head down, apparently looking into the street 
 below. She saw, indeed, the houses, and the lit 
 tle stir of the neighborhood, but it all passed un 
 consciously before her. The milk-shop on the cor 
 ner, with the two tin cans standing on the pave 
 ment before the door, was the centre of attraction. 
 Shivering little girls, Susie's age, or younger, with 
 their unfastened dresses betraying a poverty of 
 underclothing, and their stockingless feet, protect-
 
 184: LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 ed only by dilapidated shoes or boys, Master 
 Washington's week-day associates, with the little 
 earthen pitcher slung on their arms, and both 
 hands in their pockets for warmth, were the gen 
 eral messengers. "Now and then, an unshaven man, 
 with the soil of the six days' work still upon him, 
 or a slatternly belated housewife, made their ap 
 pearance on the same errand, or to bring water 
 from the hydrant, nearer still to Margaret's win 
 dow. One or two decent-looking church-goers 
 issued forth, an entire family, father, mother, and 
 two toddling little ones, in answer to the summons 
 of the church bells, which now increased their 
 cheerful clamor, as if to arrest those who were 
 usually unmindful of their voices. 
 
 Susie wondered what had happened to Marga 
 ret since Friday, the memorable day on which the 
 new dress was bought. She had been so cheerful 
 and bright all through her stay at home, and es 
 pecially that evening came hurrying up stairs, 
 and gave her such a great hearty kiss on both 
 cheeks, encouraging her to talk .about the home 
 of their own, that they were to have some day, 
 which had now become a fixed idea with Susie. 
 She looked at her sister wistfully, and thought it
 
 MAKGABET'S HOME. 185 
 
 would be pleasanter if Margaret would always be 
 cheerful, as she once was, and not have these long 
 sober thinking times, when she would look and 
 look so earnestly at one thing, whether it was her 
 work, or a book, or the floor, it did not seem to 
 make a great deal of difference which. 
 
 " Ain't you afraid you'll be late?-" urged Su 
 sie presently. Margaret, herself, had taught the 
 child the most exacting punctuality in church-going. 
 
 " I don't think I shall go to-day." 
 
 " Don't you ? I didn't know you were sick, 
 sister. Is it your head ? " 
 
 " No," said Margaret, turning around, shortly. 
 " What makes you think I'm sick ? Yes, I am, 
 Susie. Sick ? Yes, heart-sick," she said, despair 
 ingly, to herself. 
 
 " I thought you must be." Susie was at once 
 satisfied that there was a reason for Margaret's 
 dulness, but very sorry that she was suffering. 
 " I thought so last night when you came home. 
 I don't think any thing but being very sick would 
 keep you from saying your prayers and going to 
 church." 
 
 " Were you awake when I came to bed ? You 
 did not speak."
 
 186 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 " No ; because I thought perhaps you would 
 be saying your prayers, after you lay down, and 
 I should disturb you. I'm so sorry you can't go. 
 I wonder if I shall ever go again ! it seems so long. 
 Does the pretty little girl that sits in the corner 
 come this cold weather? and the lame woman 
 with the brown bonnet? She always speaks so 
 nicely to me ; when I don't even know her name. 
 Isn't it funny. I should like to hear ' We praise 
 Thee, O God ! ' once more. It always sounds so 
 grand, and rolls so through the church, and fills 
 it. When I shut my eyes, it seems as if I could 
 see them all standing on the glass sea, with their 
 harps up in heaven ; all ' the glorious company of 
 the apostles ;' and the holy martyrs and the pro 
 phets, just as it says. I wonder if it is wicked to 
 care so much more about the singing than I do 
 about the sermon, sister ? Which do you go to 
 church for most ? " 
 
 Ay ! what, indeed, did she go to church for ? 
 Why was she staying away ? What had checked 
 even her prayers ? It was the tumult of her soul 
 which she could not quell the doubts of God's 
 love and kindness to her the miserable murmurs 
 at her lot the sullen defiance of His rule over
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 187 
 
 lier and the resolve to walk by the light of her 
 own human will and inclination. It was unjust 
 that she should be always suffering for others ; 
 denied love, when it was wasted on one who al 
 ready had every other gift in lavish profusion ! 
 She stood in a great strait, and there was no one 
 to counsel her. Her father would not understand 
 it all, and was indeed so self-absorbed that he 
 could not enter into the difficulties that surround 
 ed her ; no one could, for no one knew the extent 
 of the sacrifice which conscience demanded. 
 
 What did she go to church for ? "Was it not 
 to seek the very help and 'guidance which she so 
 much needed ? And this simple childish question 
 gave her the clue to the labyrinth of temptations 
 by which she was surrounded. 
 
 " I think I will go, after all " and she began 
 her simple toilette ; " I may feel better after I am 
 in the air." 
 
 Again the temptation whispered : " What good 
 will it do you ? You can say your prayers as well, 
 or better, at home." 
 
 But she was roused to see the first wilful erring 
 from the straight path of duty, and though she
 
 188 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 did not know how it could avail her, she would 
 take the first step towards a return. 
 
 She was not late, after all ; for the fear of be 
 ing so had quickened her walk through the side 
 streets and courts that made her most direct way 
 to the old parish church where her mother before 
 her had prayed ; yes, that the child then kneeling 
 beside her, the quiet, brown-haired Margaret, 
 might have the strength and guidance she needed, 
 in just such trials as these which had come upon 
 her. 
 
 The tide of fashionable church-goers was pour 
 ing into the iron gates, as she caught sight of the 
 well-known stone coping that surmounted the wall 
 on either side the heavy parti-colored brick wall 
 that screened the slumbers of the dead in^ that 
 quiet old church-yard from sight, or sound of pro 
 fanation ; and standing in their midst, so that the 
 shadow of the cross on the graceful spire passed 
 from grave to grave, as the day deepened to noon, 
 or faded to twilight, was the honored house of 
 prayer in which they had been baptized, and from 
 which they were carried to their burial. 
 
 It needed no stately arches, no fretted aisles to 
 enhance the reverence with which all who wor-
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 189 
 
 shipped there turned towards it, as to their home. 
 It had that which wealth, however lavishly or 
 tastefully displayed, could never give. Huge, and 
 perhaps ungraceful in its proportions, its walls 
 were tableted by memories of the dead who die 
 in the Lord, chief among them the venerable pa 
 triarch, whose snow-white hair had been crowned 
 with many a glory from the square chancel win 
 dow, as he ministered before it to those his hands 
 had signed as lambs of the flock, in their infancy, 
 at its font, and were sent forth by him, in later 
 life, as " servants and soldiers " of the cross. Hea 
 vy wreaths of ivy, bearing witness to its age, 
 crept everywhere, garlanding its walls, and essay 
 ing even to drape the spire itself, with its unfading 
 freshness, or stooping to trail o'er some moss- 
 grown memorial stone that marked the last rest 
 ing-place of one who had seen the foundation 
 laid, and this witness to the zeal and piety of our 
 forefathers rise to its completion. The close turf 
 had scarcely lost its freshness, and overhead swung 
 the heavy, drooping branches of the old willows, 
 that ranged with statelier trees, and were the first 
 to send a thrill of the spring's green gladness into 
 the close dull heart of the city.
 
 190 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 There are not many such monuments to the 
 goodness of God to his people from generation 
 unto generation, in this age of rapid growth and 
 unsparing change ; thrice hallowed and venerated 
 be those that remain. Bonds like these drew 
 many of its worshippers from their far-off homes 
 in more fashionable quarters, unheard of when 
 the substantial dwelling-places around it were in 
 their prime. It was thus that its congregation 
 united strange contrasts, now that the homes of 
 the poor and lowly had crept up to the very boun 
 daries on one side, while on the other fashion still 
 lingered, and the call to daily prayer reached even 
 to the shock and turmoil of business life, the great 
 commercial centre of the city. It was a house of 
 prayer for all people, one of the few in which 
 " the rich and the poor meet together" to acknowl 
 edge that " the Lord is the maker of them all." 
 
 Margaret stood aside on the broad stone flag 
 ging for a moment, to let the children of the 
 Sunday-School pass with their teachers a quiet 
 little train of bright and thoughtful faces, chiefly 
 gathered among those who had few other opportuni 
 ties of instruction ; while the teachers entered on 
 their self-denying ministry from all classes of the
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 191 
 
 congregation. Overhead the chimes were singing 
 through the morning air a glad triumphant strain ; 
 and as Margaret listened, and looked, thoughts of 
 her own childhood came with softening memories. 
 She had once made one of the little procession, as 
 Susie now longed to do. How well she could re 
 member looking out eagerly, as she crossed the 
 churchyard, to catch a glimpse of her mother's 
 loving smile, and claim her hand as they passed 
 up the dusky gallery stairs to their own seat, just 
 as she ascended them this morning, and knelt in 
 that very place, kept through all the changes of 
 years, because it had been her mother's. She 
 could not pray, even here ; only a wild, lonely 
 yearning for help and hope filled all her soul as 
 she rose and waited for the service to commence. 
 
 Susie's old friend, the lame woman in the 
 brown bonnet, was already there, in the opposite 
 corner of the square pew, her prayer-book opened, 
 and her spectacles laid across the page, to be rea 
 dy when the voluntary should cease. From below 
 came the clatter of children's feet as the boys of 
 the school crossed the marble pavement of the 
 chancel to take their places in the opposite gallery. 
 Margaret looked down to the chancel, with its
 
 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 warm, crimson draperies, to the window through 
 which poured a softened light ; but it was not this 
 which attracted her. She tried to turn away, tried 
 not to see what she knew would only add to her 
 disquiet, " but looked, nevertheless." 
 
 The high square pews, with their original am 
 ple space and comfortable furnishing, were occu 
 pied chiefly by family groups, each a picture in it 
 self. There were fathers with snow-white hair 
 dignified matrons with the uneasy little ones of 
 the second generation at their side ; while young 
 men and maidens had come up through the good 
 old paths in which their childish steps had been 
 guided to join in prayer and psalm. 
 
 Margaret saw the family she sought for in their 
 accustomed places, all but one ; and, as she look 
 ed again, he came in, and stood uncovered, with 
 bowed head and thoughtful, reverent face ; not as 
 one who conforms only to an outward custom ; 
 every deed of Lewis Churchill's life attested 
 that he worshipped " in spirit and in truth." 
 "With Margaret's strong devotional feelings, this 
 had strengthened the confidence and respect with 
 which only she had first regarded him ; and it 
 was still the highest, purest element in what she
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 193 
 
 had come to know was " inordinate and sinful 
 affection," since he was now bound to another. 
 "Weak and unmaidenly it might have been before ; 
 but now it was to be resisted as sin. Should she 
 ever conquer it ? looking for his face day after 
 day, as the sick and the prisoner watch for the 
 sunshine, thrilling to her very heart at the sound 
 of his voice, starting at his step, however distant ; 
 but no not while in his daily presence. How 
 quietly happy they all seemed in each other ! Mr. 
 Churchill looking round upon them with par 
 donable pride his wife anxious for Agnes' com 
 fort, as if she had been still an invalid Kate 
 checking the bright glances and dimpling smiles 
 of her merry face with the remembrance of 
 the presence they had come up to seek. She 
 saw it all, even the thanks of Agnes, as her 
 brother moved the footstool at his mother's signal, 
 and marked the psalms for the day. Why had 
 God set them in an Eden of affection and content, 
 leaving her a famished beggar at the gate ? Strive 
 as she would, her mind wandered back to this. 
 Through the prayerful, hopeful words of the psalm, 
 through the solemn petitions of the litany, noth 
 ing reached her dull and heavy heart until the
 
 194 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 prayer especially appointed for the day put into 
 her very lips the cry that had striven vainly for 
 utterance : 
 
 " With great might succor us ! that, whereas 
 through our sins and wickedness we are sore let 
 and hindered in running the race that is set before 
 us, thy bountiful mercy may speedily help and 
 deliver us." 
 
 A soft mist, as of a coming fruitful shower, 
 gathered in her hot and tearless eyes, as she rose 
 from her knees ; but, though she could not see the 
 page before her, she heard the clear, deep voice 
 of their pastor in the lesson that followed : 
 
 " Be careful for nothing ; but in every thing, 
 by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let 
 your requests be made known unto God. And 
 the peace of God, which passeth all understand 
 ing^ shall keep your hearts and minds through 
 Christ Jesus." 
 
 But no, this gentle counsel, this loving promise 
 were not for her. Thanksgiving she could not offer ; 
 peace she could not hope for. The prayer suited 
 her best ; and she said over to herself: " Through 
 our sins and wickedness, we are sore let and hin 
 dered." She remembered, when the noble face
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 195 
 
 and figure of their rector appeared in the high, 
 old-fashioned pulpit, so near that his eyes seemed 
 to seek her, as he looked around upon his people, 
 that the sermon was the last of the Advent lec 
 tures, in which God's people had been called upon 
 from Sunday to Sunday to rise and shake off the 
 sloth and coldness which had gathered about them 
 through a year of prosperity and pleasure. It 
 was as it had been a trumpet call in its earnest 
 solemnity to self-conviction and self-denial, even 
 to the right hand or the right eye. Secret faults, 
 subtle besetting sins, darling self-indulgences all 
 these stumbling-blocks in the King's highway, 
 were to be set aside, that " the rough places might 
 be made straight, and the crooked places plain." 
 This was not the comfort and help Margaret had 
 longed for. She had asked for a draught of ob 
 livion ; and a sharp searching knife probed the 
 wound instead. It had left her without excuse ; 
 but she only felt more hopeless and despairing as 
 she rose to leave the church. The living tide 
 thronged outward through the aisles, and down 
 ward from the galleries above. There was a crush 
 in the vestibule, where the two currents met ; a 
 pause, filled by nods of recognition, and fragmen-
 
 196 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 tary comments or questions, among kinsfolk and 
 acquaintance, on the sermon, the weather, and 
 shall we record it ? still more indifferent topics ; 
 but all in that hushed church-going whisper which 
 still preserves the outward decency demanded by 
 the day and the place itself. It seemed strange 
 to Margaret, battling with the solemn call she had 
 listened to, to hear such words as these : 
 
 " Out, after all ! My dear, your new bonnet is 
 lovely." 
 
 " Pretty woman, Miss , if you can catch a 
 
 glimpse of her. She sat with the s." 
 
 " Cold for the season, though. "We shall have 
 an old-fashioned winter, I imagine. Better go 
 home and dine with us." 
 
 " All such miserable sinners ? JSTo, my dear 
 madam ; don't set yourself and myself down 
 among the ignoble crowd. Don't you think the 
 sermon was rather long ? " 
 
 "While she wondered that even these gay tri- 
 flers could so soon put aside the earnest words of 
 a faithful pastor, or watched the thoughtful still 
 ness of many more faces that flowed past, beneath 
 her, as she stood arrested midway in her descent, 
 some one, pressing close to her, said : " Ah, if we
 
 MAJRGAKET'S HOME. 197 
 
 laid such words to heart ! If the Advent warn 
 ing was only listened to as it should be ! " And 
 she turned to find Miss Churchill and her brother. 
 He was bending down to his sister as she spoke ; 
 but when he raised his head they stood face to 
 face, and pressed so closely in the throng, as she 
 stepped down quickly with the instinct of avoid 
 ance, that for a moment his arm supported her ; 
 and she could almost hear the strong, measured 
 beating of his heart. It was doubtless the surprise 
 of meeting her there so suddenly it had never 
 chanced before ; though sometimes she had had a 
 distant greeting which called such a sudden light 
 into his face. 
 
 " Margaret ! " And he put out his hand, this 
 time undenied. 
 
 Only for one moment ! He had called her 
 " Margaret," too ! It was part of her old self- 
 deception. But the dying are allowed farewells ; 
 and she suffered him to take her hand into the 
 warm grasp of a friend, not the distant, ceremo 
 nious touch of civility to an inferior. She felt his 
 breath upon her cheek, met his glance with one 
 that said she knew not what ! nothing that she 
 need blush for. ! a friend he had shown himself
 
 198 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 her friend might know that his compassion was 
 not wasted. 
 
 Then the crowd swept over the time-worn 
 threshold, and separated them. That was as it 
 should be. Henceforth, they were to go separate 
 ways ; she knew it now ; that touch it thrilled 
 her yet had given her " knowledge of the good 
 and evil " in her own heart. She must not trifle 
 longer ; she must not linger in the way of tempta 
 tion.
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 199 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 SUNDAY was always one of Margaret's trial days. 
 At other times, she could escape the sight at least 
 of the ill-regulated, noisy household ; and, as is 
 usually the case where there is no family rule, 
 self-indulgence and its consequent evils reigned 
 paramount on this day of all others. 
 
 Margaret still held to her own mother's teach 
 ing, quaintly expressed by Ruth's homely proverb, 
 " Never clip the wings *of the Sabbath." But 
 Mrs. Grant put " idle " for " holy " in her reading 
 of the Fourth Commandment, and observed it to 
 the letter. Church-bells were her signal for rising ; 
 and the remains of breakfast, which it was Marga 
 ret's business to prepare, usually stood on the ta 
 ble on her return from morning service, the chil 
 dren undergoing their weekly ablutions in the 
 mean time ; or, if they escaped out of doors before
 
 200 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 their mother seized upon them for the dreaded 
 ceremony, this duty also fell upon their elder sis 
 ter, or Susie, when she was the little maid of all 
 work. 
 
 There were two hours, at least, of hurry and 
 confusion at noon, of teazing, or quarrelling be 
 tween the boys, and sharply administered rebukes 
 of tongue and hand from their mother, in the 
 pauses of making her own elaborate toilet for the 
 afternoon's neighborly visiting. Her husband al 
 ways passed it in long strolls on the outskirts of 
 the city, ending in the vicinity of some railroad 
 depot, where he could meditate at leisure on his 
 own premeditated improvements in machinery. 
 Time had been when he too attended service 
 regularly ; but his desultory habits, and failing 
 health, his shabby dress, and the whole gradual 
 lowering of moral tone, had broken in upon high 
 er duties ; though he had ever kept aloof from 
 the uncongenial society of the low and vicious 
 around him. 
 
 The purple satin hat was displayed conspic 
 uously upon the bed in the adjoining sleeping- 
 room, when Margaret entered the house, and Mrs. 
 Grant was arrayed in a shot silk of orange and
 
 MAKGAHET'S HOME. 201 
 
 blue, the remains of her wedding finery. Dinner 
 was hurried ; the boys being allowed to come to 
 the table just as they had risen ; although the 
 baby had on a clean dress, and sat up on the floor 
 quite peaceably, employed with a bone from the 
 dinner-table, which did not in tne end improve 
 his personal appearance. 
 
 Mrs. Grant's anxiety as to the weather, and the 
 state of " the walking," was followed by the mod 
 est request that Margaret would administer the 
 required quantity of soap and water to the faces 
 of the boys, and look up their clean clothes. 
 
 " Dear knows, it's seldom enough I go out of 
 the house, with all I have to do ! " she said, in the 
 whining voice which always grated more uncom 
 fortably on Margaret's ears than her loudest wrath. 
 " Everybody else can dress themselves up and pa 
 rade the streets but me. Here I must stay and 
 slave in this kitchen, just because some people are 
 put up to think themselves too sick to work, and 
 other people allow them in their laziness. It's all 
 very well to say I shall be made a lady of some 
 day. I've heard that a great many times. I 
 should like to see some of the money a little closer." 
 
 Yet, for all this expressed unbelief, Mrs. Grant's 
 9*
 
 202 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 special errand abroad that day, next to displaying 
 her new bonnet, was to astonish her acquaintances 
 with the information that her husband had made 
 a fortune, and they were going to move up into 
 Second, or South, as soon as their quarter was up. 
 
 " Never was such boys ! " and she sat Master 
 Al violently down in his chair " chasing all 'round 
 the neighborhood, instead of staying home to be 
 washed and dressed decently. But when should 1 
 get time to do it, any way, with every step to take for 
 myself, and sick people to wait on into the bar 
 gain ! Dear knows ! if I could have my time to 
 myself, and work at my trade, I wouldn't be be 
 holden to the best man living for victuals and 
 clothes ; but some people have every thing just as 
 they say, and I must put up with it, and be ground 
 down, and walked over ! " 
 
 It was hard to sit still and bear these stings of 
 the tongue, unjust as they were ; but harder still 
 for Margaret to see her father push away his 
 scarcely tasted dinner, and leave the house to find 
 quiet, at least, abroad. She was glad to do any 
 thing that could hasten Mrs. Grant's departure, 
 and breathed more freely when that lady set forth, 
 arrayed in a gay shawl, crowned by the splendor
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 203 
 
 of the new bonnet, and carrying the baby with 
 her, his face looking out from tinder a compound 
 white satin hat, with a marvellous plume ! Left 
 to herself, .the boys gave little trouble compara 
 tively, although they declined her invitation to 
 stay and " play at Sunday-School " after they 
 were dressed her only successful method of reach 
 ing them. 
 
 Ruth's kindly face appeared just as this was 
 accomplished, on her way to afternoon service., 
 
 " Susie not down stairs yet ? " she said, in her 
 cheery voice. "But I guess she's just as well off 
 where she is, for a week or so yet ; keep her in 
 bed as long as you can. I don't suppose you'll 
 leave her this afternoon again, but I thought I'd 
 just step round and see. Bless me, just look at 
 the child ! " 
 
 Margaret started, as well as her visitor, to see 
 the apparition at. the foot of the stairs. It was 
 very imprudent, but very natural on Susie's part. 
 She thought Margaret never would get through, 
 and, wrapping a shawl around her, slipped out of 
 bed, and down stairs, at the risk of being carried 
 immediately back again. 
 
 " How natural it does look, clock and all ! "
 
 204 LOSS AND GAEST; OE, 
 
 said Susie, sitting on the lower stair, gazing around 
 with visible satisfaction. " I'm so tired of our 
 room ! " 
 
 " You'll -please go back to it as fast as you can, 
 though, you crazy little thing! Don't wait a 
 minute now " 
 
 " But, sister" 
 
 " Not a word till you're in bed again ! Ruth 
 will come up; won't you, Ruth?" And Mies 
 Susie found herself deposited up stairs before she 
 had a chance to make even a feint of resistance. 
 Ruth sat down in the sewing-chair, while Mar 
 garet made the little invalid's toilet, the child 
 being all excitement at this partial escape. 
 
 " Shoes and stockings, and a dress. Oh, please 
 Margaret, a real dress ! not a clean nightgown, 
 and that hateful sack ! Though it's a very nice 
 sack, and I don't know what I should have done 
 without it ; only I'm so tired of it now. That's 
 real good!" and Susie stood on tiptoe to see 
 herself in the glass over Margaret's dressing-table, 
 but turned away with a rueful look. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! I'm just like a boy ! Oh, I didn't 
 think I looked so queer ! What made you cut 
 my hair so close ? "What am I going to do ? "
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 205 
 
 " Do ? Why, nothing ; let it grow," said Ruth 
 complacently. " Guess you wouldn't have had 
 much of it left if I hadn't cut it off, or much of your 
 self, either. Hold still, and let Margaret part it. 
 There ! frizzle up the ends a little. There ! She 
 does make a first-rate boy ; doesn't she, Margaret ? 
 Little peaked yet." 
 
 Susie's spirits were beyond her strength, though, 
 and she was soon very glad of the easy-chair Ruth 
 had arranged in her primitive way, and to lie 
 quietly in it, an odd old-fashioned little figure, 
 holding a clean pocket handkerchief tightly in 
 her almost transparent hands. 
 
 Euth found it was time to leave them, when 
 she had seen her fairly settled, and paid a visit to 
 Margaret's mirror on her own account, not from 
 any vanity, but force of habit, and exactness ; for 
 Ruth liked to pin her shawl at just such an angle 
 across her plump figure, and always gave a part 
 ing bend to her black Leghorn bonnet before she 
 went into the street. 
 
 " I suppose Miss Agnes hasn't been in to see 
 you again," she said, turning this way and that in 
 the vain attempt to see the back of her head. 
 " It's hardly time yet, though ; and I suppose she's
 
 206 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 pretty busy, too. "Well, good-by, children ; I shall 
 run in to wish you a merry-Christmas, in the 
 course of the week, and to see Susie's new frock 
 on. I suppose it's to be done by then. Don't 
 come down to the door, Margaret ! I guess I can 
 find my way out by this time." 
 
 They were all alone again the house to them 
 selves, in Sabbath stillness and quiet. Susie could 
 not resist castle-building. 
 
 "Isn't it beautiful to be all alone so? Oh, 
 sister ! don't you wish we could be, all the time ? 
 Just suppose this was our house, and we could 
 have Ruth, or any one we liked, come to take tea 
 and spend the evening, and have custard for sup 
 per, or sponge cake, and a fire in the other room. 
 I don't think it's nice to have people sitting around 
 while dishes are being washed, and to have to ask 
 them to move when we sweep up. We'll have 
 two rooms, any way ; won't we ? " 
 
 " But what would become of father then ? " 
 
 Susie's countenance fell. " That's the only 
 thing that troubles me, when we're living all 
 alone. When I'm playing so, you know. I should 
 like to have father always ; and I think he would 
 work as he used to, if he had a nice warm room,
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 207 
 
 and sit with us evenings, and read ; don't you ? 
 I wonder if I ought to wish to have the boys too ! 
 But I can't, yet ; though I may, some day, when 
 they don't teaze me so." 
 
 " Well," said Margaret, " I suppose that we 
 might be doing better to-day, at all events, than 
 turning the boys out of house and home. You 
 haven't told me yet what you did all the morning. 
 Oh! did -Ruth tell you Miss Agnes' last name? 
 I meant to have asked her. Perhaps it's some 
 one that used to go to Sunday-School when I 
 did." 
 
 "JsTo, I forgot. We always have so many 
 things to say when we begin to talk about her. 
 I do hope she will come again. She could come 
 and take tea with us, perhaps, if it was all our 
 house. How nice it would be to hear her and you 
 talk together ! I shouldn't want to say a word." 
 
 It was not Susie's unknown friend, but Ade 
 laide Long, who rose before Margaret while Susie 
 rambled on. But she claimed a truce with her 
 own heart for the time. She must be all alone 
 with her God ; not even the child for a witness to 
 that final conflict.
 
 208 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 " But what did you do while I was gone to 
 church, dear ?" 
 
 " Oh, I was going to tell you ! I read the 
 Psalms, and the Lessons, and then I found my 
 text in the Bible and learned it. T think it such 
 a nice plan to say my text to you every night, and 
 I read so many little bits before I find it ! How 
 many sick people and blind people Jesus cured ; 
 didn't he ? I learned a verse in Komans to-day, 
 where all the short ones are." 
 
 Margaret looked for the well-known chapter 
 in the Bible she had taken from her dressing-table, 
 while Susie folded her hands, as she had said her 
 prayers in babyhood, and repeated 
 
 " Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves ; but 
 rather give place nnto wrath : for it is written, 
 vengeance is mine ; I will repay, saith the Lord.' 
 I learned that to put me in mind not to talk back, 
 or be ugly when I go down stairs again. I knew 
 I shouldn't do it, ever," added the child, in a pen 
 itent tone. 
 
 But Margaret had gone on to the end of the 
 chapter, wondering if the message had not come 
 to her instead of Susie. 
 
 She remembered the simple direction she had
 
 MAKGABET'S HOME. 209 
 
 so often relied on in darkness and doubt : " If 
 any lack wisdom, let him ask of God." She had 
 asked it all that day, and what direction had she 
 received ? To give up all that led to temptation, 
 though dear as her own right hand ; to leave re 
 tribution to one who knew all, and could make 
 her innocence clear as the noonday. Self-con 
 quest, at any sacrifice, was before her , and the 
 first step was to turn away from every association 
 that had nourished her foolish dream, or that could 
 lead her into temptation of cherishing unavailing 
 murmurs at her lot. She must give up her place 
 to do this ; and it must be done at once. It in 
 volved all her dependence ; she had no other re 
 source, no friend to secure another situation. 
 Could it be duty ? and the thought of Susie turn 
 ing to her for every little comfort or pleasure, and 
 her father absolutely in need of her aid. Of a 
 truth the right hand and the right eye was re 
 quired of her. 
 
 But might she not, at least, free herself from 
 this humbling suspicion before she left ? "Would 
 it be more than simple justice, such as another 
 might demand of her ; for, if she gave no explan 
 ation and what could she give ? the very act
 
 210 LOSS AND GAIN; OE, 
 
 would be held as proof of her guilt. Mr. Church 
 ill might doubt it now, at times as to-day, it had 
 seemed forgotten even he could then hold her 
 guilt as certain. And yet she read again, and the 
 words burned themselves upon her memory : 
 " Avenge not yourselves ; if thine enemy hunger, 
 feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink. Be not 
 overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good." 
 And was not concealment the meat and drink her 
 enemy had need of ! 
 
 Poor girl ! The strength to make this utter 
 self-renunciation could come alone from the hand 
 that required it ; and while Susie, wearied by un 
 usual exertion, slept lightly in the comfortable 
 chair, Margaret knelt and prayed as she had not 
 done for many a day, with wrung, outstretched 
 hands, and bitterness of heart that none but God 
 could know.
 
 MAEGAKET'S HOME. 211 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 THE like of Christmas week in Philadelphia 
 is not to be found in any city in our land. The 
 German element in its population has overcome 
 the little of Puritan prejudice to this most cheer 
 ful and Christian festival which may have been 
 infused in early times, and even the straightness 
 of " yearly meeting" councils has in these later 
 generations enlarged itself to some degree of par 
 ticipation in the general gayety. 
 
 ISTew York stands divided as to its holidays, 
 the "New Year claiming precedence with some, 
 while others have nearly finished their merry 
 making when it arrives. But in Philadelphia old 
 and young unite by general consent to give chief 
 honor to " Father Christmas." 
 
 There are many, it is true, who still hold it 
 only in its social aspect, and have quite forgotten
 
 212 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 the "gold, and frankincense, and myrrh," those 
 first Christmas offerings, that have hallowed the 
 tokens of peace and good-will which we now ex 
 change. But the gift-making, on what founda. 
 tion soever it may be placed, is as universal as the 
 feasting, and the whole city is given up to a 
 week's festivity festal in its cheerful streets, with 
 their brilliant holiday array ; in its bountiful and 
 bustling markets all its days are " market days" 
 in choice and abundance, and in the brightened 
 houses, where the poorest twine Christmas wreaths, 
 and the least expectant child watches for the com 
 ing of Santa Glaus. 
 
 Unfortunately, the weather seems to hold to 
 the musical direction " prepare for harmony by 
 discords" and usually commences by a light 
 fall of snow, just sufficient to combine with the 
 dust, and soaking rain, its general termination, 
 into almost impossible crossings, and detestable 
 walking generally. Not that this at all interferes 
 with the week's engagements : bonnets and cloaks 
 that have been carefully housed for fine days 
 all winter are submitted recklessly to the frail 
 defence of umbrellas ; omnibuses are crowded 
 and steaming ; while carriage-horses, whose con-
 
 MARGAKET'S HOME. 213 
 
 stitutions are usually regarded with excessive 
 tenderness by their owners, stand for hours, 
 draggled and forlorn, before the principal shops. 
 It is strange that all this exposure seldom pro 
 duces any ill effect " no one takes cold at Christ 
 mas time ; " the internal glow and excitement 
 are equal to the most impenetrable Mackintosh. 
 
 It is true that all this shopping ig not " wisely 
 sped ; " that people will go beyond their means, 
 led on 'by ostentation, caprice, or pure benevo 
 lence ; but somebody is the gainer for it, and 
 there must be excess in all effervescence of spirits, 
 whether individual or social ; and the year's crust 
 of selfishness is very apt to be lessened, or dis 
 appear altogether for the time being. 
 
 The Christmas week of which we write did no 
 discredit to its predecessors. The shops and 
 markets put on their most tempting aspects, the 
 weather its most deplorable one. Overhead som 
 bre skies, dripping moisture everywhere around, 
 penetrating the garments of those who went 
 abroad, and even the houses. Monday was its 
 only day of sunshine, and those who were wise 
 availed themselves of it ; but by far the greater 
 portion of the community " put off " out-of-door
 
 214 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 expeditions in the face of many such yearly re 
 verses of the weather. 
 
 Mrs. Churchill did not share in this monoma 
 nia for deferring necessary purchases until the 
 best of the markets was exhausted, and the press 
 of customers at Henrion's or Tyndale's became 
 so great that shoppers were kept hours watching 
 for even a place at the counter, while their horses 
 suffered outside as aforesaid, and their husbands 
 waited dinner in vain, in the hope of having 
 the light of their countenances behind the soup- 
 tureen. 
 
 For a whole week past, mysterious conferences 
 with " father" had been going on, and their re 
 sults stored away in the capacious depths of her 
 own dressing-bureau drawers. Mr. Churchill de 
 lighted in such errands in lingering over the 
 glass cases at Bailey's, and wishing that he had 
 more children still unsupplied with watches, or 
 ready for tea equipages in snuffing the foreign 
 odor of the great camphor chests in the shawl- 
 department of his son's establishment, and won 
 dering who could be presented, with propriety, 
 one of those undoubted cashmeres. Every clerk 
 at Tyndale's welcomed the approach of his benevo-
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 215 
 
 lent face and gold-headed cane, certain of one 
 customer who had not .come "just to look this 
 time, and would call again in a few days ;" or 
 beat down the prices of delicate French importa 
 tions to the homelier demand for stout Stafford 
 shire potteries. 
 
 These Christmas errands Mrs. Churchill was 
 content to have executed for her, assured that they 
 would be done in the most tasteful and liberal 
 manner, for there was Agnes to assist in choosing 
 Kate's present, and Kate for Agnes, when it fell 
 quite out of " father's" way. But the filling of 
 store-room and meat-safe she superintended per 
 sonally. She could not trust even her husband 
 in so nice a matter as the choice of beef and poul 
 try for this occasion or perhaps, to speak the 
 more literal truth, she could not forego the pleas 
 ure of seeing the generous provision in market for 
 the wants of householders like herself of exam 
 ining Bucks county fow]s, tasting golden butter 
 prints, seeing the fresh eggs counted down like so 
 many monstrous pearls, and passing the cheerful 
 compliments of the season with tradespeople she 
 had known for twenty years or more, whose daily 
 customer she had been in times that she still sighed
 
 216 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 for, when it was the fashion for all housekeepers 
 to go to market themselves. She loved the very 
 sight of the market-houses, with their piled-up 
 wreaths of evergreens, their goodly forests of 
 Christmas-trees and gay branches of scarlet berries. 
 There was a genuine satisfaction in the purchase 
 of cheap toys (chiefly for the families of her mar 
 ried servants, whom she never lost sight of), and 
 buttons, and thread and needles for those now in 
 her employ, from the transient stalls at the en 
 trance. She would have . exhausted the entire 
 stock if-she could have thought of enough people 
 to bestow it upon properly, and as it was, seldom 
 left any great supply behind her. There were no 
 forbidden " greetings in the market-places," but 
 " God speeds" in their kindliest sense, and many 
 a poor widow felt the more certain of a good 
 week's business from the cheerful salutation of 
 this best of women. 
 
 At the breakfast-table, then, Mrs. Churchill 
 made her appearance, fresh and rosy, from an early 
 expedition, and presently John and his appetis 
 ing burden arrived also ; the covers of both well- 
 laden baskets upheaved by the protruding legs of
 
 MAEGAKET'S HOME. 217 
 
 poultry, while any imaginable addition to good 
 cheer was safely bestowed in their depths. 
 
 Kate knotted the cord of her pretty dressing- 
 gown with a little shiver. 
 
 " ~No peace to the house now for a week ! I 
 should go without turkey and chicken-pie till an 
 other Christmas, before I should turn out of a com 
 fortable bed so early in the morning, and go wad 
 ing through those dirty markets !" 
 
 " You don't know what you will do till you 
 get a house of your own," remarked her mother 
 reprovingly, for Kate's lack of house-keeping 
 taste was a sore trial in that quarter. " I've 
 heard girls talk just so before, and make splendid 
 housekeepers when they were once settled down. 
 Besides, my dear, our markets are not dirty. I 
 beg you will not say that again. All Philadel- 
 phians should be proud of them. You should see 
 those miserable little stores they depend upon in 
 some places I could name, and even their markets 
 more like great stables " 
 
 " Or shambles," suggested Lewis, mischiev 
 ously. 
 
 " Than a respectable market^" concluded Mrs. 
 
 Churchill, gravely. 
 10 "
 
 218 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 " What's the first thing on the programme ?" 
 said her husband, helping himself, for the fifth 
 time, to flannel-cakes. " Who's going down town 
 with me ?" 
 
 " Oh, it's quite too early for shopping ! that 
 is to say, unless you need the girls very much. I 
 shall want them both, if this afternoon will do just 
 as well." 
 
 " Those everlasting plum-puddings ! Oh, Ag 
 nes ! " And Kate put on a pretty air of con 
 sternation. 
 
 " It isn't often I call upon you, my dear, I'm 
 sure," said her mother, with a little pique in her 
 tone. " Agnes is usually so kind and considerate. 
 I should think that once a year you might assist 
 us a little." 
 
 " Where's the cook ? " inquired papa, with a 
 dread of seeing his favorite's face clouded, and an 
 inward desire for her gay companionship for his 
 morning's walk. 
 
 " It's Monday, father. You don't seem to re 
 collect ; and, though we give most of our washing 
 out, there's always enough to keep the girls pretty 
 busy, as I often have to explain to Kate. It's the
 
 MAKGAEET'S HOME. 219 
 
 last week in the year to have things put off, or 
 broken in upon." 
 
 For once in her life, Mrs. Churchill showed a 
 degree of valiant determination, and carried the 
 day. " Father" was obliged to accept the escort 
 of Lewis, and Miss Kate to resign herself to do 
 mestic trials, though she absorbed herself lazily in 
 in the " North American" while the table was 
 cleared ; and Agnes and her mother washed up 
 the silver and china, an established habit in the 
 family, the little cedar tub, the soap tray, and its 
 concomitants making their appearance as regularly 
 as breakfast itself. 
 
 This was Mrs. Churchill's time for settling all 
 her little housekeeping matters, not allowing them 
 to obtrude their unwelcome faces with unanswer 
 able demands upon her time and attention later in 
 the day. From the dining-room to the store- 
 closet, and thence to the kitchen, was her regular 
 round. After which, the chambermaid was drilled 
 and reviewed, the linen-closet put to rights ; and 
 then, as she expressed it, " her mind was free for 
 anything that might turn up." 
 
 But to-day, Agnes was invited to accompany 
 her to the store-room, and assist in the weighing
 
 220 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 out of certain of its contents. Mrs. Churchill's 
 store-room was a goodly sight, with its well-filled 
 bins of sugars and rice, its bags of coffee, chests of 
 tea, barrels of all the flours that could be com 
 pounded into the staff of life extra Genesee, un 
 bolted Graham, Buckwheat and Indian-meal stand 
 ing conspicuous. The shelves rivalled the corner 
 grocers' in their array the flasks of pure Floren 
 tine oil, the rank and file of English mustard and 
 sauce bottles and surpassed them in rows upon 
 rows of labelled jelly and sweetmeat glasses, bran- 
 died fruit, and those blue Canton jars, with their 
 cordage net- work, so welcome to lovers of foreign 
 confections. It was wel Ithat there were no school 
 boys to be tempted by a glimpse into this para 
 dise, for the cake-boxes presented a never-failing 
 supply in addition. 
 
 Mrs. Churchill called upon John to carry the 
 store-room scales to the now empty side-table 
 before Miss Kate, and weighed, with her own 
 hands, the mysterious compounds that enter into 
 that crowning dish of an old-fashioned Christmas- 
 dinner, a plum-pudding, which, we grieve to say, 
 is passing out of sight in this dyspeptic day and 
 generation. Suet, raisins, currants, spices, citron,
 
 MAKGAEET'S HOME. 221 
 
 rose-water, and divers other ingredients soon 
 gathered about Mrs. Churchill, whose spirits rose 
 with the genial employment, till the lexcite- 
 ment, as was usual with her, vented itself in a 
 little flow of conversation, including all about her: 
 " It's high time, my dear, that you put up your 
 paper. Kate, my love, do you hear? Which 
 will you do, currants or raisins ? You had better 
 both commence upon the raisins. John, take 
 them to cook, and tell her to wash them care 
 fully." 
 
 " He's forgotten the currants, too." And Kate 
 caught up the dish to walk after him. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, no ! I could not depend upon 
 cook in the least for the currants. My mother 
 always said there never was a cook yet that could 
 be trusted with fruit ; and we used twice as much, 
 in old times. John, bring me a large pail of fresh 
 water ; it takes so much, Agnes ; well, you may 
 do it, as I am a little afraid of neuralgia ; and it's 
 quite a task. Six waters, recollect." 
 
 " Six waters ! " said Kate, nibbling a bit of 
 candied citron she had broken off from the mass. 
 
 " Yes, six is the rule." Mrs. Churchill looked 
 relieved by this token of awakening interest in
 
 222 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 her youngest daughter. " Currants are a great 
 trial. Nobody knows that better than myself, as 
 I've washed eight pounds for my pies and pud 
 dings every Christmas since I was your age. 
 There, John, change that water for Miss Agnes. 
 The second, is it ? "Well, this is the third now. 
 John, ask Nancy for two of my clean gingham 
 aprons, in the right-hand drawer. My love, you'll 
 ruin your dressing-gown. To seed raisins, you 
 must have a clean towel and finger-bowl to get 
 along at all. There, take this apron, Kate ; and 
 I beg of you to be careful. One stone may spoil 
 a pudding, as my mother used to say." 
 
 " But, mother, I thought you and papa were 
 such plain people when you were first married," 
 said Kate, holding up a rich, purplish cluster to 
 the light, before falling to work with her accus 
 tomed energy, for whatever Kate Churchill really 
 set herself to do was done heartily. 
 
 " Oh, we were, you know ! .but we took our 
 Christmas dinner at home for five years ; and I 
 always went to help my mother make the pud 
 dings. She would not have known what to do 
 without me."
 
 MAEGAKET'S HOME. 223 
 
 " I came by the old house," said Agnes, " the 
 last time I went to see my scholars." 
 
 " How out of the world it is ! Third below 
 Lombard." 
 
 " It was not then, I can assure you, Kate 
 quite as fashionable, or more so, than Arch Street 
 is now." 
 
 " Papa was a poor man, wasn't he, mother ? 
 Dear me ! I never could marry one ! " 
 
 " You might do much worse, my dear." 
 
 " Oh, but the having to do without things, 
 and to live in a little narrow street, and keep one 
 maid, and be dragging with children all day ! " 
 
 " I had no nurse-maid for Agnes and Lewis, 
 though. It was not customary to keep so many 
 servants, though their wages were nothing to what 
 we pay now. Besides, we could not afford it ; but 
 I would do the same thing over again for your 
 father. Even when Lewis had his broken arm, 
 and Agnes the scarlet fever at the same time, and 
 no one to depend on but myself, I never said I 
 was sorry, and never felt so. There, now you 
 can spread those currants on the tray, Agnes, and 
 set them over the register. John, take away 
 those things. ISTow we can settle ourselves to
 
 224: LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 work comfortably, though I'm afraid my eyesight, 
 even with my spectacles, isn't good enough for 
 currants. I think I will change with you alto 
 gether, Agnes, if you take up eight or ten at once 
 on a napkin, and rub them gently. There, that's 
 it!" 
 
 " But did you have to work so hard, really? " 
 said Kate, going back to the phase in her mother's 
 life which her ease-loving nature could never quite 
 comprehend as a happy one. " I should have 
 thought grandfather would have helped you." 
 
 " Oh, he did make us some very handsome 
 presents, handsome for those days ; but he said, 
 from the first, that, if I chose to marry your father, 
 I must abide by my choice, and take the brunt of 
 it. I remember my Uncle Jacob's wife, Aunt 
 Jacob we used to call her, as there were two 
 Aunt Marys. Well, she said, one day, she was 
 quite offended by the match, because she thought 
 it lowered the family somehow, though I never 
 dared to let your father know it. She said : ' I 
 never should have thought you would have allowed 
 one of your daughters to marry a man who was 
 not a gentleman.' 
 
 " ' "What makes a gentleman ? ' said my father.
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 225 
 
 I can see him rap his shell snuff-box now, and look 
 up at her out of the corner of his eye. 
 
 " ' Oh, money ! ' said she, ' to be sure ! ' 
 
 " ' Well, then,' said my father, ' I'll make a 
 gentleman of him some day, if he doesn't make 
 himself one first.' That was very good, wasn't it, 
 Agnes ? " 
 
 This family anecdote was by no means quite 
 new to the listeners ; but Mrs. Churchill always 
 told it with such visible satisfaction and pride, 
 that it was a pleasure to listen to the thrice-told 
 tale ; though Kate darted a wicked look across the 
 rapidly diminishing pile of fruit as she heard it 
 approaching. 
 
 "I never cared about any of my children 
 making wealthy matches for that reason," added 
 Mrs. Churchill. " Nobody could be happier than 
 your father and I were; though I know some 
 people pitied us, Aunt Jacob for one. We always 
 had enough to eat and to .wear ; and we have been 
 very much blessed, I must say." 
 
 "There's no danger of me ; and Anne's done 
 for; as for Lewis, Josephine will have enough." 
 
 " I heard on Saturday that reminds me," said 
 
 10*
 
 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 Agnes " that Morton Sargeant was addressing 
 her." 
 
 " There's not a bit of truth in it," said Kate, 
 hotly. " He was at the concert the other night. 
 I depend on having her for a sister ; and I just 
 wish Lewis would hurry up the wedding. Only 
 think, I've never been bridesmaid yet ! " 
 
 " Yes, I'm very much afraid that house next 
 to Anne's will be rented. What does he say about 
 it, Agnes ? " 
 
 Agnes was usually appealed to when any one 
 desired to know the movements and opinions of 
 her brother; but, of this impending marriage, 
 Agnes knew no more than the rest. She hoped 
 she could scarcely tell why that something would 
 interfere with it even yet. 
 
 An unusual silence settled on the whole group, 
 each of them privately speculating on the probable 
 course of events. 
 
 " Oh dear ! " groaned Kate, presently, " I be 
 lieve there's no end to these raisins ; and Agnes 
 gets on at the rate of a currant a minute. Can't 
 I cut up the citron or beat the eggs ? " 
 
 " Eighteen eggs would be rather too much for 
 you, my dear ; but you may cut up the citron, if
 
 MAJKGAEET'S HOME. 227 
 
 you like. Dear me, Agnes, I had quite forgotten 
 the bread-crumbs ! It seems to me as if my mem 
 ory gets worse and worse. You may grate the 
 bread, Kate. Yes, you'd better do it at once ; and 
 then I think Agnes and I can manage the rest ; 
 can't we, Agnes ? " said Mrs. Churchill, relent- 
 ingly. " I suppose you ought to have your walk 
 this morning, as we are going out- after dinner, 
 and do go round by Anne's, and see how Charley 
 is. I'm afraid I sha'n't have a moment to-day." 
 But Kate's release was nearer still, for John 
 made his appearance the next moment to announce 
 visitors, and their reception and entertainment 
 were much more to her taste than even the bread 
 crumbs ; while Agnes passed quietly through the 
 double duty, and remained at her post until the 
 final incorporation of eggs, cream, suet, fruit, and 
 minor ingredients, which crowning operation Mrs. 
 Churchill would by no means delegate even to 
 her.
 
 228 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 " KATE isn't here ? " questioned Josephine 
 Wright, as she opened the door of Mrs. Anne 
 Parker's snug little sewing-room : " may I come 
 in?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly ; " and Mrs. Parker, the mar 
 ried sister of the Clmrchills, made way for her 
 visitor to advance, through the confusion of furni 
 ture and toys which Master Charley had created. 
 
 The young gentleman himself, the most promi 
 nent member of the Parker family, eyed the new 
 comer with more indifference than curiosity, and 
 returned to the tin dray, which he was industri 
 ously loading with his father's chess-men. 
 
 " You have come to take tea with us, I hope," 
 said Mrs. Parker, who resembled her mother in 
 all things, especially in her hospitable spirit. 
 " Let me take your furs ; or, will you go up to my
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 229 
 
 room and lay off your things ? There, Charley, not 
 quite so much noise ! " 
 
 " Oh, no indeed ! " Miss Wright could not 
 possibly have made up her mind to have such a 
 humdrum proceeding as a domestic tete-d-tdte tea, 
 and laid her hand upon the muff which her hostess 
 essayed to take. 
 
 " Do, now ; we shall be quite alone, and 
 Charley's papa will be delighted to find you here, 
 I am sure ! " Mrs. Parker remembered, with sat 
 isfaction, that there were to be hot biscuit and 
 oysters for supper, at all events, and it would not 
 put the cook out in the least. 
 
 " I could not possibly ; I have an engagement 
 for the evening ; some other time ; " and Josephine 
 mentally wondered how any one could content 
 herself to sit in a back room all the afternoon 
 and sew, as Mrs. Parker had been doing, with a 
 child bothering about into the bargain. 
 
 " I expected to find Kate waiting for me ; she 
 promised to be here at five, and I have the car 
 riage ; I was to call for her. It is a quarter past 
 now." 
 
 "She will be here very soon, then; she
 
 230 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 usually comes round every day for a romp with 
 Charley." 
 
 Mrs. Parker turned to that young gentleman, 
 and held out her hand. She wondered, in turn, 
 how any one could resist those bright black eyes, 
 and round white shoulders, set off by his plaid 
 frock and low-necked linen apron. Mrs. Parker 
 pitied her unmarried friends sincerely, and wished 
 that every one could have just such a good hus 
 band and lovely child as she had. As for married 
 people who did not like children, or wish for them, 
 they were monsters, in her eyes, " most tolerable 
 and not to be endured ! " 
 
 " You see I came right up," said Miss "Wright, 
 with the air of a privileged person. " The waiter 
 girl " a tautology peculiar to Miss Josephine's 
 Philadelphia education " told me you were here, 
 and I would not wait in the parlor, it seemed so 
 formal somehow, Kate and I are so intimate." 
 
 " Oh, it was quite right ; " and Mrs. Parker, 
 who was of a social nature herself, really felt 
 pleased at this advance on the part of Kate's sty 
 lish friend, especially as she had heard some hints 
 from mamma of the family expectations. " I hope 
 you will never make a stranger of me. "Won't
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 231 
 
 you come and see the pretty lady, Charley ? Who 
 is it, dear your Aunt Katie ? " 
 
 Children have an instinctive appreciation of 
 character, so far as they themselves are concerned, 
 and though Miss Wright held out her well-gloved 
 hand, and seconded his mother's invitation, Mas 
 ter Charley declined. 
 
 " He's so interested just now about Christmas," 
 said Mrs. Parker, whose range of conversational 
 topics was limited, and as she could find none 
 more agreeable to herself, fell into the common 
 mistake of supposing that it would be equally 
 entertaining to her guest. " Charley ! who comes 
 down chimney with all sorts of pretty things? 
 (You wouldn't suppose now that he would remem 
 ber about it ; his father told him.) Come, tell the 
 lady, Charley ! " 
 
 " Santa Claus ! " said Master Charley, thus 
 adjured. " He bring Tarlie itty back wow." 
 
 " He means a little black dog," interpreted 
 Mrs. Parker. " He's quite crazy about it, and I 
 was all the morning hunting for one of those curly 
 ones don't you know the kind ? with long ears ; 
 a toy dog, of course, I mean. It seemed as if 
 everybody I knew was out. I could find plenty
 
 232 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 of them, the dogs I mean, white ones, but no 
 black. I wanted to see Kate to tell her to look too. 
 I shall be terribly disappointed if I don't find one, 
 as he has set his heart on it, and so will Charley's 
 papa." 
 
 " Tarlie's putty tat yun up er tair ! " shouted 
 the miniature drayman, on the floor, proud of his 
 last accomplishment, sentence making, although 
 his efforts so far were confined to the two we have 
 recorded. 
 
 " He means Charley's pussy cat ran up stairs," 
 interposed the delighted mother. "It was his 
 first sentence, and we were very proud of it, I 
 assure you. I was standing by the back parlor 
 door, and he was playing with the cat in the hall, 
 who got away from him, and ran up to my room. 
 I never was more astonished in my life than I was 
 to hear him say it. His father would hardly be 
 lieve me when he came home and I told him of 
 it ; but he said it again, and has never forgotten 
 it since." 
 
 An audible peal of the door-bell interrupted 
 this maternal eloquence, although^Mrs. Parker 
 called her visitor's attention to the " cunning way " 
 in which Charley put up his little fat hand, and
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 233 
 
 said " hart ! " in a low voice. It was evidently 
 hard work to restrain herself from catching him 
 up and kissing him in an ecstasy, for Charley was 
 no exception to the general run of juveniles, and 
 usually declined pertinaciously all entreaties to 
 "show off" before company. 
 
 " I think that must be Kate " and Miss 
 "Wright tried not to look too much relieved by the 
 arrival. It was now quite dark out of doors, and 
 the gas had been lighted some time. 
 
 " KQ ; it's not Kate's step, it's a gentleman, 
 and Mr. Parker never gets home before six. Who 
 can it be ? " 
 
 Miss Wright's heart took up a quick-step, as a 
 firm tread passed through the hall, and some one 
 sprang up the half flight of stairs, evidently a 
 privileged intruder. 
 
 " Oh, to be sure it's Lewis, he often comes 
 round on his way from the store ; sit still, we never 
 mind him; and he's so fond of a romp with 
 Charley." 
 
 Miss Wright obeyed the injunction, and re 
 mained very quietly in her dark corner, with her 
 face turned from the shaded light ; but she watched 
 the door eagerly, for this was better than her
 
 234: LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 hopes. She had thought he might accompany 
 Kate ; but what if Kate should not come at all, and 
 common politeness would make her offer of setting 
 him down, as she passed the house, a necessity, 
 and his declining an impossibility ? 
 
 " Hurrah, young gentleman ! " And Master 
 Charley was caught up, and tossed within an inch 
 of the ceiling before he could steer himself around 
 to see who had arrived. " B[ow are you, Anne? 
 JSTow, sir, where's a kiss for your uncle ? " 
 
 Miss "Wright, looking on, thought " He's very 
 fine-looking, after all, if he is so solemn usually. 
 What a tall, nice figure ! I had no idea he could 
 romp so." 
 
 " You don't seem to see Miss "Wright, Lewis," 
 said Mrs. Parker, always regardful of propriety. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Josephine, I beg your pardon ! " 
 And he bowed towards her, his hands being en 
 cumbered by Charley and Charley's dray at the 
 moment. " I did not know Kate was here." 
 
 " But she is not," said Mrs. Parker ; " that's 
 the very thing. Miss "Wright has been waiting 
 here until I'm sure she must be quite tired out." 
 
 " Oh, not at all, Mrs. Parker ! " 
 
 " Well, it's very careless in Kate ; and I shall
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 235 
 
 certainly tell her so. I have been trying to per 
 suade Miss "Wright to stay to tea ; but she has an 
 engagement. Can't you, Lewis ? " And Mrs. 
 Parker thought again of the biscuit and oysters. 
 How fortunate that she happened to order them ! 
 
 Miss "Wright unconsciously leaned forward to 
 listen for the answer. 
 
 "Not to-night, thank you, Anne. I hardly 
 think Kate will be here, either, it is so late now ; 
 she went out with mother directly after dinner. 
 Yes, it's very careless in her to forget an ap 
 pointment." 
 
 But, perhaps, having heard Lewis say at din 
 ner that he should go round by Ashburton Place 
 on his way home, Miss Kate's detention was like 
 the child's torn clothes, " an accident done a-pur- 
 pose." She certainly had exhibited a wicked 
 match-making propensity from the first ; though 
 she little dreamed how near at hand the wished- 
 for crisis lay. 
 
 "Then I had better not wait any longer." 
 And Miss "Wright rose to her feet, drawing up her 
 Yictorine. 
 
 " Oh, don't hurry ! she may be here yet. Do 
 wait a little while."
 
 236 LOSS AND GAIN; OE, 
 
 " I think not to-night " and the lady made a 
 step or two forward. Was it a rash move ? She 
 hazarded it at least. 
 
 Master Charley was deposited on the floor. 
 " There, that will do for this time, my little man ! " 
 
 " Oh, don't trouble yourself, Mr. Churchill ! I 
 have the carriage." 
 
 " Yes, Lewis, do put Miss Wright in the car 
 riage. But you'd better both stay and spend the 
 evening." 
 
 Miss Wright was inexorable, though promis 
 ing to come again soon, with that special object 
 in view, to Mrs. Parker's warm invitation, w r hich 
 was urged on the stairs, even on the very door 
 step. 
 
 " Shall I set you down, Mr. Churchill ? " 
 
 " Thank you ! " Yet it was not an acceptance, 
 for he had handed her in, and still stood on the 
 pavement, with his hand on the door. 
 
 " I'm going directly home." 
 
 "Yes, Lewis, I think you'd better!" called 
 Mrs. Parker from the steps. " It's getting quite 
 damp, and I should not be surprised if it rained 
 before you got home, if you walk." 
 
 What had made Lewis Churchill hesitate?
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 237 
 
 Whatever the cause, his self-deliberation ended 
 in calling himself a very unfriendly name, and he 
 took the opposite seat. . So they rolled away to 
 gether, quite alone, while Mrs. Parker went back 
 to the house to superintend Charley's bread-and- 
 milk, congratulating herself on the success of the 
 little manoauvre, which had thrown the lovers 
 together, and of which she took the entire credit. 
 
 Lewis glanced at the vacant house next to 
 Anne's as they passed, and thought what a pretty 
 picture the sitting-room, and mother and child 
 had been, his heart leaping up with the hope that 
 some day such a home might be his own, when 
 he turned to see the fair face opposite him looking 
 all the lovelier for the glare and flash of the street 
 lights which revealed it. The little hand nestled 
 outside the muff, so temptingly near his, and there 
 was a charm in the complete seclusion, the close 
 neighborhood of the moment. 
 
 But there was another returning home, in a 
 far-off solitary street, Margaret, hurrying on, 
 thankful that the day was over, and to escape 
 from the presence of one who had cruelly wronged 
 her, the punishment of whose sin she must un 
 justly bear. There was no longer a tumult of
 
 238 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 feeling to control ; she was like one who has given 
 up all hope of averting some dreaded crisis or 
 calamity, and waits with dull quietude, rather 
 than calm patience, for the issue. Some one has 
 said, and wisely : " It is not in the tempest that 
 one walks the beach to look for the treasures of 
 wrecked ships ; but when the storm is past, we 
 find pearls and precious stones washed ashore ! " 
 Margaret thought not of any possible future gain ; 
 she heard only the sobbing of the storm in the 
 distance, and felt on her unsheltered head the 
 drenching and driving spray, with a dreary dread 
 that the waves would return again. 
 
 She found a comfortless home ; her father de 
 spondent at some fresh rebuff or delay, querulous 
 and unreasonable as a child ; and Susie suffering 
 again from her exposure on the stairs the day 
 before. !No wonder that she stood in the chill 
 darkness of her own room, tempted to give up all 
 hope, and drift outward with the tide.
 
 MAEGABET'S HOME. 239 
 
 CHAPTEK XVIII. 
 
 WEDNESDAY, the day before Christmas, had 
 arrived, and there was no more time for delay in 
 making the purchases that were to pass from 
 - friend to friend as tokens of good-will that even 
 ing. It was no use to wait for the weather any 
 longer ; the storm, commencing on Monday night, 
 had increased in violence through Tuesday, and 
 now the steady down-pour was what every one 
 might have expected, but did not. In doleful 
 contrast to the gayety of the night before, Miss 
 Adelaide Long arrived at Churchill & Choate's 
 with trailing muddy garments, and a hoarse cold, 
 to which her daily companions attributed her 
 special ill-humor. 
 
 But Margaret alone could understand the con 
 science ill at ease, the restless fear of discovery, 
 which appeared in her fretful manner and sarcas-
 
 240 LOSS AND GAIN; OE, 
 
 tic tones. Her own heart was heavy enough, but 
 she thanked God that it had not the barbed arrow 
 of conscious guilt. She had begun to find that 
 
 " The sting of falsehood loses half its pain, 
 If our hearts bear witness we are true.' 
 
 Still it was hard, in the momentary pauses of that 
 busy day, to recollect all that was before her. 
 While others anticipated the gifts of the evening 
 and the holiday to-morrow, she thought only of 
 going from these familiar scenes to return to them 
 no more; of meeting Mr. Choate's suspicious look 
 and cold acceptance of the resignation of her post ; 
 of going away, perhaps, without a word of fare 
 well from the kind friend whose approval she 
 courted, to brave her father's disappointment, his 
 wife's wrath, and Susie's innocent questionings 
 when she told them what she had done, but could 
 give no reason why. What was to become of 
 them, or herself, she could not see; but when 
 these misgivings came, she met the tempter, who 
 would still hold her in this daily bondage, with an 
 old saying she had often heard from her mother's 
 lips : " Man's extremity is God's opportunity." 
 Fortunately, there was little leisure in the day's
 
 MAKGABET'S HOME. 241 
 
 incessant whirl ; as Mrs. Parker had said, " every 
 body one knew was out." It was amusing enough, 
 for one who was care free, to watch the meetings 
 and greetings of friends who exchanged shrugs 
 and " horrors ! " on the weather, comments on the 
 different establishments in which they had en 
 countered each other previously, and inquiries as 
 to success in some all-important search. 
 
 Every one was " tired to death," " worried out 
 of their lives," and " ready to drop ; " yet, withal, 
 they seemed to be in excellent spirits, with plenty 
 of money, or an unlimited carte-llanche as to 
 bills. They greeted each other with " Merry 
 Christmas," as if the day had already come, and 
 disappeared to make room for other eager shoppers, 
 who queried, and bargained, and abused the 
 weather in turn. It was so dark by four in the 
 afternoon that the gas was lighted, and still the 
 crowd poured in and out without diminution. 
 Mr. Choate, too busy to survey the throng al 
 though he had two special assistants listened 
 with inward content and satisfaction to the ring 
 of coin and the shouts of " cash." It was a music 
 that his soul delighted in. Miss Choate, whose 
 
 department included table and piano-covers 
 11
 
 24:2 LOSS ANI> GAIN; OB, 
 
 favorite holiday gifts among practical people 
 was also forced to attend to her own share of the 
 business, and let the " young ladies " at the other 
 counters manage their affairs alone. Even Mr. 
 Churchill seemed to share in the general excite 
 ment, walking about restlessly, or watching the 
 sky, as if their sales really depended on the 
 weather, which, on this day at least, could not in 
 fluence them in the slightest. 
 
 Evening came Christmas Eve with all its 
 cheerful associations ; with a crowd thronging 
 Chestnut Street, not to be disappointed in seeing 
 Kriss Krinkle by any freaks of the weather ; with 
 startling peals from door-bells, and mysterious 
 packages, with and without the donor's love or 
 compliments ; shouts and clapping of hands from 
 the youngsters as folding-doors flew open magi 
 cally, revealing brilliantly-lighted and generously- 
 laden Christmas trees smiles and tears to those 
 who stood 'by, and watched their joy while they 
 thought of their own childhood, or noted the miss 
 ing links in the chain of household love. 
 
 Eight, nine o'clock, and yet the tired feet were 
 not released, and the lights shone out from 
 Churchill & Choate's over the wet, slippery pave-
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 243 
 
 ment. A long and dreary Christmas Eve it had 
 been to Susie ; disappointed in her anticipation 
 of having the new dress finished, and wearing it 
 for the first time to see the Christmas decorations, 
 and hear the Christmas anthems for Margaret did 
 not come, and though she had been sitting up 
 much of the day, she knew she was not strong 
 enough to walk so far as the church on the mor 
 row. So she turned to her usual resource, tired of 
 starting up and listening for her sister's voice, and 
 imagined all sorts of impossible presents for both 
 of them, and for their father. She was even gen 
 erous enough to present Mrs. Grant with a fabu 
 lous silk dress magnificent to behold, and to fill 
 the boys' stockings, and shoes too those imprac 
 ticable shoes, that were always missing or tied in 
 " hard knots " with candies, and trumpets, and 
 tin horses. Nor was old Kuth forgotten. Susie 
 pictured Ruth's astonishment when she herself 
 should walk in with a bird, a singing' canary in a 
 round cage, and find that it was really for her ; 
 parforming which liberal bestowment, Susie fell 
 stsleep, and wandered oif on still more fantastic 
 journeys into cloud-land. 
 
 There was a time-honored custom at Churchill
 
 2M LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 & Choate's established, one might be sure, by 
 the original founder of the house, and not by any 
 spasmodic generosity of Mr. Caleb's. At the close 
 of the day's sales, each person in their employ 
 was summoned to the office and received a special 
 gift, ostensibly in return for the week's unusual 
 exertions. The clerks usually had the satisfaction 
 of an acceptable addition to their month's salary ; 
 the young ladies, some article of wearing apparel, 
 selected, in his day, by the senior Mr. Churchill 
 himself, and sure to be serviceable, as well as ex 
 cellent in kind. Of late, the choice had devolved 
 on Miss Choate, whose economical propensities 
 were held in check by Mr. Lewis, who overlooked 
 the distribution. Nine o'clock was the signal for 
 this cheerful business to commence, and one after 
 another was called, and reappeared with smil 
 ing or disappointed faces, as the case might 
 be. 
 
 Margaret dreaded, yet longed for the sum 
 mons, the signal for her final departure, and stood 
 watching the inner door, with nervous starts and . 
 suddenly failing pulse, whenever she imagined th$ 
 time had come. She echoed the merry wishes 
 and glad " good-nights" of those who were going
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 245 
 
 and thought " it is for the last time." The lights 
 were dying out around her ; the great cloth hang 
 ings began to stretch gloomily from floor to ceil 
 ing; still her name had not been called, and 
 while she wondered and waited, and saw even the 
 cash boys go in before her, it suddenly came into 
 her mind that the omission was intentional, a part 
 of the disapprobation in which she was held, and 
 which waited only definite proof, for her dismissal. 
 Her breath came quick and hard at the thought, 
 and she started up, yielding to the impulse of the 
 moment, to follow and detain the real aggressor, 
 who had just passed by with a light mocking 
 laugh, and accuse her face to face. But a voice 
 seemed ringing in her ears, "Avenge not your 
 selves," and she turned, nerved by very hopeless 
 ness of the moment, to seal her own dismissal. 
 
 Miss Choate now occupied the office-chair, 
 before which Margaret had been summoned to her 
 brother's judgment, checking the list of names ; 
 there were but few remaining who had not re 
 ceived their Christmas gift. Margaret's was not 
 there. She knew it when she appeared before 
 them, and saw the start by which her entrance 
 was greeted, quite as well as when Miss Choate
 
 246 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 said, uneasily, looking from Mr. Churchill to her. 
 brother 
 
 " I don't find you here at all, Miss Grant. I 
 don't think / have made the mistake ; for I know 
 I called the ' GV regularly, and Mr. Churchill 
 made out the list himself." 
 
 Margaret gave him no time for reply. " I did 
 not come for any gift. I should have waited to 
 be sent for. I came to say that I leave my situa 
 tion to-night, to be disposed of as you think best. 
 That is all." And she was gone before Mr. Caleb 
 and his sister had recovered from their astonish 
 ment, or Mr. Churchill, who would have detained 
 her, could do so. He followed her to the door, 
 indeed, the next moment, with hasty step ; but the 
 porters were in the store busy with their nightly 
 arrangements, and she had passed on swiftly 
 to the dressing-room, where were voices and 
 laughter. 
 
 Margaret did not wait for any more farewells ; 
 she reached her bonnet and shawl, and went out 
 into the night, followed closely by Adelaide Long 
 and her lover. They had waited and watched for 
 her she felt that and the mockery of their 
 " Merry Christmas, Miss Grant," as they hurried
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 247 
 
 by. Then all feeling was absorbed in the utter 
 loneliness of her position, shrinking with a wo 
 man's fear from the noisy groups of revellers, un 
 sheltered from the drenching, driving storm. 
 "Always unsheltered, always uncared for," she 
 thought ; " it has been so all my life, from the 
 time I can remember ; always working for others, 
 always sacrificed to others. Must I go on so! 
 Oh, it is very hard ! very bitter ! All Thy 
 waves and billows have gone over me ! " It was 
 a despairing but not a rebellious cry, and the 
 " Even so, if it seemeth good in Thy sight," rose 
 up with true if not cheerful acquiescence. 
 
 There were hasty steps behind her, and she 
 quickened her own pace. It was later than she 
 had ever been abroad before, and the streets were 
 full of lawless men, bent on a night of riot and 
 excess. 
 
 "Margaret!" 
 
 Still she hurried on, thinking her own imagi 
 nation mocked her. 
 
 " Margaret ! One moment ! "Will you not 
 let me take care of you ? It is no night for you 
 to be out alone ! " 
 
 She faltered then, with a sudden trembling
 
 248 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 that made her heart stand still. It was not the 
 cold, or the drenching shower ; but that she should 
 be remembered, cared for by him. She knew the 
 earnest voice whose arm had thrown a heavy 
 plaid around her as well as when she turned to 
 find Lewis Churchill. 
 
 " You are drenched, and shivering with cold," 
 he said ; " you must not expose yourself in this 
 way. Trust me, Margaret, as if I were your 
 brother. Will you not ? " 
 
 Trust him ? Yes ; she had always trusted 
 him ; and now she stood in beggarly need of some 
 other human strength and comfort. A strange 
 content stole over her, and calmed her, as she 
 stood leaning on his arm he bending down to 
 shelter her, until the carriage that he had signalled 
 from the stand approached, and then she was 
 lifted in, and he sprang to the seat beside her. 
 She did not make a motion of dissent, or even 
 wonder how he knew it, when she heard him tell 
 the driver the name of the court in which she 
 lived, but leaned back, not even caring to have 
 the blessed silence broken. 
 
 " So, Margaret, you have given us up to 
 night," he said, as they rolled away from the
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 249 
 
 glare of the noisy thoroughfare. "I will not 
 ask you why; I know you never act without 
 good reason. But what if I will not let you go ? 
 What if I hold you here by me always ? " and 
 the hand that had sought her own grasped it 
 firmly. 
 
 She did not reproach him with wronging an 
 other by such words ; she trusted him, by all she 
 knew of his life, that he meant what he was say 
 ing, honorably and truly, though she could not 
 comprehend it, and sat silent as before. 
 
 " Will you go now, when I tell you that I love 
 you as if you were already rny own wife ? Will 
 you be my wife, Margaret ? " 
 
 " His wife ! " How the words rang in upon 
 the stupor that seemed to have fallen on her. 
 " His wife ! " She had never said that, even to 
 herself, before ; she had only thought, but never 
 as now, how she could have loved him ! 
 
 " Margaret ! You will at least tell me whether 
 I have offended you ? " and he waited until she 
 said 
 
 " Oh no, no ! " 
 
 " I have no reason to think that you would make 
 me such a precious Christmas gift as the right to 
 11*
 
 250 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 love and cherish you. But if you knew how hard 
 it has been to see you braving fatigue and ex 
 posure day after day ! how many ways I have 
 planned of approaching you less rashly ! how I 
 dreaded to speak lest I should have deceived my 
 self in thinking that you would learn to love me ! 
 You cannot now you do not even know me as I 
 am, though you have seen me daily for three 
 years." 
 
 * " But you do not know what you ask for. 
 You do not know me ! " 
 
 " I ? I do, Margaret, better than you think. 
 I knew you first in your gentle, dignified woman 
 hood, with such a face as always calmed me 
 even in pictures when I have found it ; and then 
 I watched you to see if I were deceived in think 
 ing it was the impress of the inner life, of its pu 
 rity, energy, and loving-heartedness, that I saw. 
 Forgive me that I began the study coldly, when 
 it ended in loving what I found ! " 
 
 " Do you love me ? " she said, dreamily as if 
 she stayed her feet on the brink of a stream she 
 dared not essay to cross. 
 
 "Yes, love you; could any one know how 
 you have borne your lot in life, and not love you,
 
 MAKGABET'S HOME. 251 
 
 my patient Margaret! How you have held to 
 ; all things beautiful, and pure, and of good re 
 port,' in the midst of ungenial influences what a 
 daughter you have been what a mother to your 
 little sister! You must let me share the task 
 work now ; will you not ? Will you try to love 
 me, and give me time to prove that this is no 
 sudden, passing fancy ? " 
 
 The unnatural quiet passed away with a long, 
 grieving sigh, and, as she felt herself drawn to 
 wards him, Margaret laid her head on the heart 
 that pleaded " for love's sake." " Oh, I am so 
 tii'ed of battling on alone so happy ! " and she 
 lay quite still for a moment, as a weary child 
 would rest in the shelter of loving arms. Then the 
 thoughts of Susie's helplessness, and her father's 
 lonely, companionless life, came with their for 
 bidding influence. And Mr. Churchill's family ! 
 she could not mar their unbroken happiness by such 
 an unwelcome intrusion. It was a dream, bright 
 as brief; but she must rouse herself from it, and 
 do as she had even done before, go on her way 
 alone, not wholly cast down, since he might have 
 loved her.
 
 252 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 " Why do you start away ? will you not rest 
 here, Margaret ? do you not trust ine yet ? " 
 
 " But you do not know " and an unworthy 
 flush rose to her face, as she remembered the 
 obscure street they were so rapidly approaching- 
 " We are not like those you have always known ; 
 we are very poor and plain, and you must not let 
 pity blind you to the reality, or make you blush in 
 your own home when you think of mine." 
 
 " I understand all you mean to say." 
 
 " But wait till you see that is different." 
 
 "And if then I say, come? I humor your 
 faithless scruples, you see. Will you come ? to 
 my home ? our home ? " 
 
 " We are almost there " and Margaret lean 
 ed towards the window to escape the pleading of 
 her own heart, suing for him with stronger pleas 
 than any he could utter. "Look out and see! 
 Could you hear it said that you had stooped to 
 this ? could your family know it, and not re 
 proach me ? " 
 
 He looked out at her bidding. She was right ; 
 he had not realized that she had lived surrounded 
 by such scenes from her childhood the low drink 
 ing shops the noisy brawlers upon the side-walk
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 253 
 
 the poor, squalid houses the shouting, and sing 
 ing, and quarrelling that came from within the 
 miserable air of poverty and decay on every thing ; 
 yet it only made him long more earnestly to carry 
 her away from all such wretched associations, and 
 make her future life so bright and happy that she 
 would come to forget that she had ever known 
 them. 
 
 " My poor Margaret ? " And he turned away 
 to clasp her more closely still. 
 
 She could not deny herself the transient shel 
 ter, for all that she repeated over to herself, again 
 and again, " It must not be." How swiftly the 
 still moments flew by ! The carriage turned into 
 the narrow court, halted, and the farewell had 
 come. 
 
 " I must see your father in the morning. Tes, 
 Margaret, I shall ; and walk with you to church. 
 It must be as I say, now. God bless you ! " 
 And he was gone before Mrs. Grant, startled by 
 the unusual sound of wheels, had reached the 
 door, and unbolted it. 
 
 " La, it's only you, is it ? I thought I heard 
 a cab, or something. I suppose I must sit up
 
 254: LOSS AND GAIN J OE, 
 
 till midnight for everybody. No signs of your 
 father yet." 
 
 It was an ungracious and fretful greeting ; 
 but the echo of that " God bless you " charmed 
 away the discord, and in her own room she could 
 try to make the last hour real. Susie's pale, 
 sleeping face reminded her of the unfinished task, 
 not task but pleasure, for sleep was impossible 
 and as her needle flew, happy thought, strange 
 questioning, and bright anticipations that would 
 not be driven back, floated and mingled in her 
 mind, marked by the smiles and blushes, and 
 grave earnest looks that passed over the face bent 
 downward to her work.
 
 MAEGABET'S HOME. 255 
 
 CHAPTEK XIX. 
 
 MB. GKANT had gone out early in the evening 
 upon his daily quest, news from the Patent Office. 
 Morning and night he made his appearance at 
 Mr. Dunlap's counting-room, insensible to the 
 quizzing of the clerks, and the half-suppressed 
 impatience of their principal at his importunity. 
 It was closed when he reached it ? the heavy shut 
 ters were tmrred, and the door securely fastened 
 for the night. He tried* the lock, but it did not 
 yield. 
 
 It was a greater disappointment than it would 
 have been at any other time ; all that day he had 
 had a fancy, almost a presentiment, that the after 
 noon mail would bring him the wished-for intelli 
 gence. It was founded, doubtless, on Mr. Dunlap's 
 opinion that this was the earliest moment they 
 could reasonably expect to hear, and his own crav 
 ing wishes. Be that as it may, all chance of know-
 
 256 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 ing the truth was cut off for two days at least, for 
 there would be no business transacted on the 
 morrow. If there had been but one night to 
 pass in uncertainty, Mr. Grant would have gone 
 gloomily home again, sunk in one of his most de 
 spondent moods, the natural alternation of the ex 
 citement in which he lived. Two nights ! all Christ 
 mas day ; it was impossible. He turned towards the 
 business part of the city, walking slowly with un 
 settled purpose ; but a sudden thought quickened 
 his pace, and altered the course he had taken. 
 
 Naturally shrinking and timid, nothing less 
 than the restlessness of the moment could have 
 decided him to seek Mr. Dunlap at his own house. 
 He knew where it was, for he had often directed 
 his numberless appeals to it far out in the west 
 ern part of the city, on one of the new squares that 
 were already springing up magically in the region 
 known as " beyond Broad." He passed through 
 thronged streets, and squares of luxurious houses, 
 but he saw nothing of the gayety which shone out 
 everywhere. His whole soul was wrapped up in 
 his own quest : nor did it seem unreasonable or 
 importunate until he had reached the house : then 
 he paused before the high marble steps, and saw
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 257 
 
 the light pouring out of the vestibule door, through 
 the rich lace curtains at the drawing-room win 
 dows, and heard the sound of music and merriment 
 within. They, in their household joy, little knew 
 how the footsteps of an old gray-haired man, pre 
 maturely old with the strivings and disappointments 
 of years, faltered at the threshold, and paced the 
 flagging back and forth, while the storm beat down 
 on his unsheltered head. But this he did not feel : 
 he was only trying to quell the impulse which 
 had led him there, but it conquered even his shrink 
 ing, sensitive nature, and he ascended the steps at 
 last. The back drawing-room of the prosperous 
 merchant's house was a goodly scene that even 
 ing. It was only a family party, as befitted Christ 
 mas Eve : but children and grand-children were 
 gathered there, and there was the glad antici 
 pation of more welcomes when the New York 
 train arrived. The grand distribution of gifts had 
 already been made, and sofa, chairs, and the piano 
 were in a chaos of toys, bonbons, and more cumber 
 some tokens for the elders. At the round table, 
 under the central light, sat Mrs. Dunlap herself, 
 a comely, dignified lady, whose brown eyes were 
 full of quiet joyfulness as she looked around and
 
 258 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 saw all there not one blank had the year made 
 in their great happiness. 
 
 But " grandmamma " was not suffered to have 
 a quiet enjoyment: incessant demands were made 
 upon her for admiration of work-boxes, books, toys, 
 and ornaments, by the children, and by their proud 
 fathers and mothers for rapturous commendations 
 of the juveniles themselves. " Grandpapa " had 
 forgotten his invoices and cargoes, and for this 
 night was " a boy again," sounding famous blasts 
 on hunting-horns, and squeaking dolls to the hearts' 
 delight of their fortunate possessors. 
 
 In the midst of all this merriment, the door 
 bell sounded, startling all to an instant's silence. 
 
 " It's the boys ! " cried Mrs. Dunlap ; for her 
 sons were boys to her still, for all their bearded faces. 
 
 But no, the mantel-clock checked that hope ; it 
 pointed only eight. 
 
 " Some more presents ! hurrah ! " shouted the 
 children, who had already made divers journeys 
 to the hall for the welcome packages that had 
 presented themselves. 
 
 It was in vain to call " Come back, Joe wait, 
 Alice here, Clara : " the whole merry little 
 troop poured out, to find, to their great disappoint-
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 259 
 
 ment, " only a little old man, who wants to see 
 grandpapa." 
 
 " On business, he says, sir only a moment," 
 reported the waiter, who by this time had made 
 a hearing for himself. 
 
 Mr. Dunlap's unusual hilarity changed into a 
 frown. " Tell him I'm engaged ; I think I may 
 have one night in the year to give to my family un 
 molested. 
 
 " Did he say what it was ? " asked Mrs. Dnnlap, 
 with kindly voice, as the servant hesitated a mo 
 ment, not liking to convey such a discouraging mes 
 sage to the drenched, weary -looking man without. 
 " Ask him what he wants ; it may be some one 
 who needs help," she added, as she saw her hus 
 band's movement of dissent ; " and I could not 
 enjoy my own happy home if we turned any one 
 in need away to-night, and such a night." 
 
 " His name is Grant," said the waiter, reap 
 pearing, " and he said you would know." 
 
 " Bother ! " and Mr. Dunlap started up with 
 a look and tone of still greater annoyance. " That 
 man is the p] ague of my life. No, I won't see him ! " 
 
 " My dear, you don't know hadn't you better 
 see ? Is it the Mr. Grant who has been so per-
 
 260 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 severing about the patent ? Oh, do see him. I 
 always feel so sorry for him." 
 
 " He looks so tired, grandpa ; sha'n't I tell him 
 to come in ? " said Joe, the namesake and pet of 
 his grandfather, boldly. 
 
 Mr. Dunlap's heart smote him, but he did not 
 give up his vexation, nevertheless. It was the 
 very sympathy he felt for Mr. Grant, and his re 
 peated disappointments, which made him resent 
 the intrusion. 
 
 " Well, show him into the library ; I'll be there 
 in a moment. Mother, where are my letters ? I 
 did not mean to break a seal to-night ; I have not 
 even looked at a post-mark, for fear of some news 
 that would upset me." 
 
 How magically warm and glittering those 
 rooms looked to the lonely man as he drew near 
 the library grate, feeling, for the first time, that 
 he was drenched to the skin ! One glass door 
 stood ajar, and through it he saw the brilliant 
 chandeliers, chiming faintly with all their rainbow 
 prisms, the shining of mirrors and pictures on the 
 wall, the warmth of damask draperies and velvet 
 carpets, the bright faces of the children, the happy 
 glances of their elders ; and then came into his
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 261 
 
 mind, strangely enough at that moment, when he 
 was all eagerness for his errand, thoughts of Mar 
 garet, stately and graceful as any of those beautiful 
 women, defrauded by him of hardly-earned com 
 forts, and Susie, his motherless darling, who had 
 never known a child's light-hearted happiness. 
 He did not mind Mr. Dunlap's somewhat ungra 
 cious greeting, but stood with keen expectancy 
 shining out of those strangely lighted eyes, and 
 speaking in every line of his worn, sallow face, 
 while the post-marks were examined one by one. 
 
 " Ha ! " and Mr. Dunlap's face lighted up 
 from its unsympathizing coldness, as he found, 
 beneath some magazines and papers, a large en 
 velope, with its well-known official seal. "I 
 believe we have it, after all ; bad news is better 
 than none, hey ? " and he began to read. 
 
 The face of the watcher worked convulsively ; 
 the suspense seemed stifling him, and he passed 
 his hand through his neckcloth to loosen it. 
 
 " True as no stop ! Yes ' as herein speci 
 fied ' done at last ! I congratulate you, Mr. 
 Grant ; you've carried the day ! " 
 
 " Oh no, sir ! not granted ? " ' 
 
 " Yes, sir ! " and Mr. Dunlap gave the docu-
 
 262 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 ments an emphatic thump. It would have been 
 
 a relief to him to say " By " something, but 
 
 Mr. Dunlap never gave way to profane impulses, 
 however much old habits might tempt. He got 
 up from his desk though, and shook Mr. Grant's 
 hand as heartily as if he had been his brother. 
 
 " Now it's come, let me give you a piece of 
 advice. It isn't going to turn out an everlasting 
 fortune, you know, though it's something. Part 
 of the improvement has been anticipated. Adams 
 is the man to carry it, and he's made me the offer 
 of $10,000 clear for my third, if it come to any 
 thing. I'd advise you to make the same terms ; 
 he's a practical man, and he can make a better 
 use of it than you or I could." 
 
 But Mr. Grant had not followed him through 
 the proposition. Mr. Dunlap could not under 
 stand the inventor's triumph at a success not 
 only achieved but acknowledged, or the relief 
 from absolute want to comparative wealth ; neither 
 emotion could be fully shared but by Margaret, 
 his own much-enduring, helpful, hopeful Mar 
 garet. 
 
 11 " Thank you ; I must go. Oh, I thank you 
 again for seeing me to-night. Tell them why I
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 263 
 
 ventured to call you away ; " and he waved his 
 hand towards the parlor. " But are you sure, 
 sir ? Oh, a mistake would kill me now ! " 
 
 " Sure sure as a gun ! " said Mr. Dunlap, 
 with more warmth than elegance ; his natural 
 satisfaction at the result being heightened by an 
 imaginary feeling of self-sacrifice connected with 
 it. " You must have a glass of wine, Mr. Grant. 
 Here's to the patent, and I wish you a merry 
 Christmas ! " 
 
 He stopped to take it, only because he did not 
 feel as if he could reach home without it, and not 
 a moment longer. Mr. Dunlap closed the door 
 upon him, and went back in smiling contrast to 
 his forced exit. 
 
 " "Well, mother, the patent's granted. The 
 documents happened to be there, as I should have 
 seen if I had brought up the letters myself." 
 
 " Really ! I must go and shake hands with 
 him ; oh, I am delighted ! " and Mrs. Dunlap's 
 benevolent countenance did not belie her heart. 
 
 " Oh, he's gone! off like a shot! he would 
 hardly wait to take a glass of wine, though he 
 trembled from head to foot." Mr. Dunlap rubbed 
 his hands in a glow of self-satisfaction.
 
 264: LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 " Grandpa ! " it was little Joe, who stood and 
 played with the great seals of Mr. Dunlap's watch- 
 chain "ain't you glad now that you minded 
 grandma and me, and went to seethe poor old 
 man ? " 
 
 Margaret stood up and shook out the new dress, 
 Susie's one Christmas present. It was quite done, 
 even the little bit of lace tacked around the neck, 
 and the sister's eyes already saw her little one 
 arrayed in it ; but, as she stood brushing off the 
 bits of clippings and thread, she heard voices, and 
 her own name called from below. She did not 
 distinguish her father's ; but, ever watchful for 
 him, and suddenly remembering his unwonted 
 absence, flew down the stairs, impelled by a 
 nameless terror of accident or mischance. Mrs. 
 Grant's eyes, heavy with sleep, were distended by 
 some startling intelligence she seemed as yet 
 scarcely to understand, and her husband tottered 
 towards Margaret with outstretched arms. 
 
 " Oh, Margaret ! it's mine at last the patent " 
 and he burst into tears, sobbing like a child. 
 
 Margaret soothed him as she would have com-
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 265 
 
 forted Susie, while he clung to her as helplessly ; 
 smoothing his silvery hair, whitened so rapidly of 
 late, but asking nothing. " Poor father ! dear 
 father ! " 
 
 ," I don't care for any thing, now it has come, 
 but you, Margaret. I've been so cruel and hard 
 hearted to you and Susie ; but you shall have it 
 all back again. Oh, Margaret ! " 
 
 It was no time to tell him of her own strange 
 repayment ; and it was long before she could win 
 him to try and sleep ; but when he did so, heavily, 
 for he was exhausted in mind and body, she stole 
 back to Susie's bedside, and knelt, until the mid 
 night chimes rang out their Christmas greeting, 
 with a heart too full even for audible thanksgiving. 
 
 12
 
 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 IT was very hard for Mrs. Grant, just come into 
 a marvellous fortune ten thousand dollars being 
 an exhaustless sum in her eyes to be obliged to get 
 up and dress her own children, by a kitchen fire, 
 too ! However, it would only be for a very little 
 while : their quarter would be up on New- Year's 
 day, and it should not find her in Shippen Court, 
 she had already determined, nor without " a girl." 
 Having a maid of all work was the first step Mrs. 
 Grant contemplated towards gentility. 
 
 It was impossible to sleep with such plans in 
 prospect, and to the general good of the house 
 hold, and much to Margaret's comfort, the break 
 fast-table was cleared at an hour hitherto un 
 precedented in the annals of Mrs. Grant's house 
 keeping. Margaret set aside the last dish, with a 
 glance at the clock. How many times she had con-
 
 MAEGAKET'S HOME. 267 
 
 suited it already, it is needless to say. She watched 
 for an opportunity to prepare her father for the 
 morning's interview; but he was making an 
 unusually prolonged toilet in his own room. All his 
 lost self-respect seemed suddenly restored to him ; 
 he brushed his best suit of clothes carefully, 'and 
 smoothed his well-worn hat, in honor of the day. 
 The night before had been bright and hopeful. 
 Her father's good fortune removed the chief ob 
 stacle in Margaret's way, and seemed to her excit 
 ed imagination a token for good in all that had 
 befallen her. To-day new and less worthy dif 
 ficulties presented themselves. Allowing that Mr. 
 Churchill loved her sufficiently to overlook her 
 present position, what could his family say when 
 they came to see her in the little narrow room, so 
 seldom used, or indeed opened, which was all she 
 had to receive them in ? She went in and unclosed 
 the blind, looking around her with dismay. The 
 faded, threadbare carpet, the slender flag-seated 
 chairs, the bare table between the windows, the 
 pair of empty glass lamps upon the mantel, were 
 its sole furniture and adornment. All was cold, 
 cheerless, and homely in the extreme ; and while 
 she dusted the furniture carefully, and turned the
 
 268 LOSS AJTD GAIN; OK, 
 
 chairs about to try and make them a little less 
 stiff and formal, she started at every footstep on 
 the pavement ontside, lest Mr. Churchill should 
 be early at his tryst, and surprise her in a morn 
 ing-dress. It was the same that he was accustomed 
 to see her in, however. Her hair was smoothly 
 parted, and put up in the heavy coils that gave 
 very little idea of its luxuriance ; her collar pinned 
 with the same exactness. Margaret could not have 
 appeared out of her own room attired with less 
 scrupulous neatness. 
 
 Her father was in the little working-room 
 when she went up stairs again, and as she opened 
 the door softly, saying, " May I come in ? " he 
 started, and set down his first rough model of the 
 machinery he had lived to bring to perfection. 
 He was thinking of her mother, as she appeared 
 before him, with a look so like that the dead had 
 worn, that she seemed to stand in her place. 
 
 " You must be very happy, father ; what a 
 merry Christmas it is ! " she said, as she came and 
 stood beside him. 
 
 He shook his head slowly. " No, not merry, 
 it's too late for that ; but not too late to make 
 you and Susie happy. If it hadn't been for you,
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 269 
 
 J should have given up in despair long ago. You 
 will try to be happy, won't you, Margaret ? " 
 
 " I am happy, happier than you know for, 
 father ; I came to tell you." 
 
 He listened, at first with a strange, vacant 
 expression, to what she had to say ; but when he 
 came to realize that some one beside himself knew 
 and loved what he loved in her, and wished to 
 take her away from him, an inexpressible pang 
 shot through his heart ; but he would not be 
 unjust, as heretofore ; no, she should not even see 
 how it had shaken him. 
 
 She was busy with her own thoughts, too, and 
 it helped him to pass the ordeal. 
 
 " It's no more than you deserve ; it's just what 
 you deserve ; tell him I said so." 
 
 " But you will see him, father, will you not ? 
 won't you go to church with me to-day, and help 
 me thank God for all his goodness ? So much, all 
 at once ! It is so strange that I cannot be thankful ! 
 not half as thankful as I ought to be." 
 
 " Kot to-day, Margaret ; some other time 
 next Sunday, perhaps. I must have some new 
 clothes first ; I must not disgrace you." 
 
 " You must not say that again ; you know I am
 
 270 LOSS AXD GAIN; OK, 
 
 proud of you ; prouder than ever, now." And 
 Margaret's eyes kindled as she drew herself up at 
 the thought. 
 
 " You are not ready for church yourself," 
 said Mr. Grant, with unusual observation for him ; 
 but even her presence oppressed him at that mo 
 ment. He wanted to be quite alone. 
 
 So Margaret went back to Susie, who, wrapped 
 in a little chintz dressing-gown, with a blanket 
 about her, was going to try and be very patient 
 all the morning, and lie still on the bed, in the 
 expectation of having on the new dress when 
 Margaret returned, and dining down stairs on 
 chicken, and rice-pudding with plums in it 
 dainties to which Susie had long been a stranger. 
 
 " But where did the chickens come from ? " 
 queried Susie, as Margaret arrayed herself in her 
 best dress a plain colored mousseline one of 
 those neutral tints which painters love for their 
 Madonnas. 
 
 " Suppose I sent for them myself this morning, 
 expressly to give you a treat ? " 
 
 " Well, I suppose you did ; nobody else would 
 have thought about it, or has got so much money." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! there you're mistaken. Now
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 271 
 
 I'm going to tell you a grand Christmas secret, the 
 reason father kissed you so, when he saw you this 
 morning, only I didn't want you to know it then, 
 because I was afraid of one of your bad head 
 aches." 
 
 "Oh, it's all gone now ; do tell me ! " 
 " Truly ? Well, then, father is going to have a 
 great deal of money for his patent, and mother 
 says we shall move into a better house." 
 
 " Is that all? " Susie's look of expectancy fell. 
 " All ? You unreasonable little thing ! " 
 " Oh, I thought you were going to say that you 
 and I were going off to live by ourselves. You've 
 got your collar wrong side out, Margaret." 
 
 It was quite true ; and Margaret laughed at 
 herself, as she unclasped the little oval hair 
 brooch, worn only on high-days, and remedied 
 her carelessness. Her holiday apparel admitted 
 no other finery ; but it was sufficient, in its neatness 
 and simplicity, for any time and place that she 
 was likely to encounter. She had found her bon 
 net of three winters past all repair ; but her 
 summer's straw, still white, and retrimmed with 
 a simple ribbon of dark plaid, did not look out of 
 season.
 
 272 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 " It was nice to have the rain stop to-da^," said 
 Susie, seeing her sister glance towards the window ; 
 " I think it's all going to clear off, too." 
 
 " Yes, there comes the sun now ! " and a bright 
 clear ray shone into the sombre little room. " In 
 token of the full tide of sunshine to come," 
 thought Margaret, as she stooped to take a shawl 
 from one- of the deepest drawers of the old-fashion 
 ed bureau. It was a drawer in which were kept 
 the relics of her own mother's wardrobe. This 
 shawl she had worn many a day a white merino, 
 with deep woven border, delicate and ladylike, 
 though its fashion had passed away ; and when 
 Margaret threw it about her in natural graceful 
 folds, Lewis Churchill had no need to be asham 
 ed of the bride he had chosen. 
 
 Still he did not come. It was quite time that 
 she should set out. She had loitered and delayed 
 until the latest moment ; but she did not doubt 
 him even then. Oh, no ; something had happened 
 to detain him ; she should see him after church, 
 perhaps, and that was better; her mind would 
 not be so distracted in the service. It was a dis 
 appointment, she was obliged to acknowledge that,
 
 MAKGAKET'S HOME. 273 
 
 and saw for the first time how much she had de 
 pended on it, with all her denials. 
 
 " Don't try to read, for fear of the headache ; 
 and here is your new dress to hang before you all 
 the morning, ready to slip on the moment I get 
 here. Good-by," was her farewell to Susie, longing 
 to tell her, all the time, what had really happened. 
 But she must wait to see. 
 
 Mr. Grant came out with Margaret. 
 
 " "Won't you go, father ? Your clothes look 
 well enough, you have brushed them so nicely." 
 And then her eyes shone suddenly, for there he 
 was, crossing the street to meet them. Margaret 
 took her father's arm instinctively ; and her pride 
 in him was never greater than when she said, 
 " My father, Mr. Churchill." 
 
 They walked on for a little way together ; but 
 when they came to a broader street, Mr. Grant 
 stood still, and said : " Mr. Churchill, Margaret 
 has told me all about it ; I believe you mean well 
 by her ; I hope you may be happy ; she's been a 
 good and faithful daughter to me." 
 
 His voice grew tremulous, and he turned away 
 from them instantly. He could not bear yet to 
 see them together ; the new-born jealousy rose up, 
 12*
 
 274 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 mingled with such a tender love for Margaret, in the 
 constant recollection of what she had been to him, 
 as in all those many years he had never felt be 
 fore. 
 
 "He has given you to me, Margaret; you 
 are mine, now," Mr. Churchill said, quietly. 
 
 She took his proffered arm, as she had leaned 
 on her father's the moment before ; she felt that 
 the transfer was final. 
 
 They had not much to say in that first walk to 
 gether. Margaret's many questionings died away, 
 now that she had met him, and he seemed too 
 much absorbed in the grave reality of all he had 
 assumed the right to guide her life hereafter 
 for outward comment. 
 
 The crowd thronged past the iron gates as on 
 that Sabbath morning how little while ago ! She 
 could scarcely believe that so few days had passed 
 since her solitary communing. How strange it 
 seemed, still to lean upon his arm, in the presence 
 of them all, his friends and acquaintances, who 
 bowed in passing, and, she felt, regarded her 
 with curious scrutiny. They must separate in a 
 moment, though. They stood within the lobby, 
 at the foot of the stairs, but Mr. Churchill did not
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 275 
 
 release her. Margaret had not thought, for a mo 
 ment, of any thing but her own obscure and humble 
 corner ; but she was not to kneel there now. She 
 saw only the tessellated pavement, and she went 
 down the aisle, following a stronger will than her 
 own. She looked up to find herself surrounded by 
 those well-known household faces, silently smiling 
 a welcome to her ; she could not be mistaken in 
 that ; making a place for her in their midst ; 
 adopting her in God's own house to be as one of 
 themselves. 
 
 She covered her face to pray, but her heart 
 only said, "Oh, my God, I do not deserve it ! " 
 and the thrilling prelude of the organ above them 
 seemed like far-off heavenly music, unreal as all 
 the rest. 
 
 It was God's own house, and she had come to 
 worship him, not to indulge in dreams of earthly 
 devotion. The thought stilled the tumult of her 
 soul, and steadied her voice for the " psalm of 
 thanksgiving," though she heard but one deep- 
 toned response through all. 
 
 Mr. Churchill, senior, polished his spectacles 
 far more than was usually necessary, all through
 
 276 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 the sermon, and his wife manifested a motherly 
 anxiety that Margaret should be comfortably seat 
 ed. She was between the two sisters, and now 
 and then caught a look from the elder, that, more 
 than any thing else, made her feel that this wel 
 come was from the heart and not by constraint 
 
 "For her deep blue eyes smiled constantly, as if they had by fitness, 
 The secret of a happy dream she did not care to speak." 
 
 When they came out from the joyful, solemn 
 services of the day, the family feeling was no 
 longer to be restrained. 
 
 Mr. Churchill rubbed his hands as if he had 
 done a good thing, after he had shaken Margaret's 
 in his heartiest manner. Mrs. Churchill said, " Of 
 course, you dine with us to-day, my dear. Agnes 
 and Lewis will walk ; we want you in the carriage 
 with us." 
 
 It was in vain to refuse to plead home duties. 
 Margaret found herself taken possession of, the 
 carriage door shut on her, and Lewis, bowing from 
 the sidewalk, looked so happy and bright, that she 
 knew it had all been arranged between them. 
 Her anxiety for Susie overcame the embarrass 
 ment she would otherwise have felt painfully. 
 
 " I have a little sick sister, Mrs. Churchill, who
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 277 
 
 is watching for me now, I dare say ; you are very 
 kind, but I cannot leave her." 
 
 "Oh, it is the little girl Lewis spoke of, I 
 know, my dear. Does she cough much ? You 
 must have young Dr. Meigs see her. He is our 
 family physician, now that his father has given us 
 up. Has she been very sick? You must feel 
 anxious about her." 
 
 " Take her to the country next summer, that 
 will set her up ; nothing like trotting about on the 
 green grass to bring a child round again," said Mr. 
 Churchill; and yet the horses' heads were not 
 turned ; they were carrying her away from Susie 
 rapidly. 
 
 Margaret ventured another remonstrance : " I 
 am sure it will not do ; I do not dare to leave her 
 all day ; some other time." 
 
 " You shall go just when you say so, my dear; 
 but we feel anxious to be better acquainted with 
 you, don't we, father ? " 
 
 " You might as well take it patiently ; you 
 see there's a league." Kate had taken no part 
 in the little discussion before, and Margaret felt 
 less at ease with her than any of the rest. It was, 
 perhaps, an undefined association with her friend
 
 278 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 Miss Wright, as well as Kate's dashing, stylish 
 manner; differing from the simple cordiality of 
 the others. 
 
 " You do not know how anxious I am ; I hope 
 I do not seem perverse ? " Margaret said, turning 
 to her. 
 
 " La, yes I do ; don't we, mamma ? It's just like 
 my sister Anne, worrying her life out if she leaves 
 her baby half an hour. But you really shall go 
 if you want to, sha'n't she, papa, the very minute 
 she says so, after she's been introduced to the 
 house, and the furniture, and seen us with our 
 bonnets off? You've got to put up with us all, 
 you know, and you might as well begin." 
 
 So Margaret was forced to content herself, lest 
 she should seem unreasonable to her new friends, 
 who could not possibly understand Susie's position 
 at home, and she did not care to provoke any 
 further allusion from the saucy Kate. It was a 
 part of the morning's unreality, the same feeling 
 which had scarcely left her since the evening be 
 fore, to find herself leaning back in this smoothly- 
 rolling vehicle, roomy and softly cushioned, as be 
 came the fortunes of the family, and talking with 
 Mrs. Churchill of her sister's sickness, into which
 
 MAKGARET'S HOME. 279 
 
 that good lady entered with true maternal in 
 terest. 
 
 Mr. Churchill, when they reached his house, 
 handed her up the steps himself, and " mother," 
 bustling after, took Margaret's hands in both her 
 own and kissed her warmly. Margaret's eyes 
 filled with tears. Were all her dreams of house 
 hold love to be fully realized ? 
 
 "She belongs to us, now, doesn't she, mother? 
 I think I must have my kiss too," And Mr. 
 Churchill helped himself accordingly. "Before 
 Lewis himself, I dare say ! Ha, ha ! pretty good, 
 to steal a march on him ! " and he patted her 
 blushing, burning face, before he released her. 
 
 " Now, make yourself quite at home, my dear, 
 as you are, you know," said Mrs. Churchill, with 
 a sudden reminiscence of the dinner in prospect, 
 and the disastrous carelessness of cooks in general. 
 " Kate will take care of you till the others come ; 
 they won't be long behind." 
 
 " Kate will be very glad to, when you all get 
 done with her. Come straight up to my room, 
 Margaret, for if sister gets you in hers first, there's 
 an end of my claim. She and Lewis are such 
 gossips, that she intends to monopolize you, I have
 
 280 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 no doubt. That's her den ; up another flight from 
 mine. There ; this is Liberty Hall ! " 
 
 It was a large bright room, quite as character 
 istic as her sister's, and pleasant in its way, though 
 by no means so home-like or orderly. The bed 
 was strewn with wearing apparel, and the dress 
 ing-table in a sad confusion of ornaments, gloves, 
 hair-pins and brushes. 
 
 "I don't allow any one to clear up but myself, 
 after the room is once done for the day. I like 
 my things handy. I give you free admittance. 
 Oh, yes, you must take off your bonnet ; I will see 
 that you go the very minute you say so ; but take 
 it off, or you won't begin to feel at home." 
 
 Kate Churchill tossed her own into the centre 
 of the bed, and untied Margaret's with the pretty 
 despotism she practised on all the family. "There, 
 now ; seat yourself by the window and watch for 
 them. You're after sister's own heart, I see. Ko 
 come here and try my Castle Indolence. Isn't 
 it a famous old chair ? I routed it out of the gar 
 ret and had it covered myself." 
 
 Fortunately her hostess gave Margaret very 
 little space for reply, but rattled on steadily, as she
 
 MAJKGAEET'S HOME. 281 
 
 brushed out her puffs, and made a rapid dinner 
 toilet. 
 
 " You won't mind my going on, will you ? So 
 I'll dress all the same as if you were Josephine." 
 
 Was the allusion intentional ? Margaret 
 caught the keen glance of Kate's fine eyes, and 
 a certain distrust disturbed her. Kate watched 
 her varying color with merciless scrutiny, as she 
 finished her dressing operations. 
 
 " What splendid hair you have ! Why don't 
 you dress it so as to show what it is ? Do let me 
 try." And, leaning over, she drew out the comb, 
 before Margaret could prevent the mischief. 
 " There, now, you will have to sit still, and let me 
 do as I please ; besides, I've got something to tell 
 you." 
 
 " Do not be long, then " and Margaret's tone 
 expressed very little resignation to her fate. 
 She felt ill at ease distrustful still of Kate, 
 anxious about Susie, and, if the truth must be 
 told, icstless to see Lewis once more, and hear 
 from him the assurance that she was truly wel 
 come in his home. 
 
 " I might as well own up first as last," said 
 Kate, brushing away vigorously, " that I stood out
 
 282 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 against you last night. It was only last night that 
 Lewis told us, you know, though it seems sister 
 knew it wasn't his fault if you did not marry him 
 oh, I don't know, some days ago. If you want 
 to be jealous of any one, she's the person those 
 two people can't keep any thing from each other 
 five minutes. It was always so, but a great deal 
 more since sister was sick. I'll tell you, since 
 you're coming into the family though we never 
 speak of it now that sister was engaged herself 
 once, but it turned out badly ; the horrid man 
 was very gay, and deceived her about it. So she 
 broke it off, though she had a dreadful sickness, 
 and we all thought we should lose her." 
 
 This explained to Margaret the reason of the 
 quiet sadness, or more really thoughtfulness, that 
 so distinguished Miss Churchill's face. And 
 thinking of the confidence between the brother 
 and sister, their conferences, of which she felt 
 herself the subject, suddenly came into her mind. 
 So it was kindliness after all ! 
 
 " Now you must let me do exactly as I please 
 with your hair. As to my opposition, I'm all over 
 it, and I intend to like you very much. Lewis 
 will tell you that I never do any thing by halves.
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 283 
 
 But, in the first place, it was so sudden. We 
 were all sitting round the fire, waiting for Lewis, 
 when in he came white as a ghost, positively, as 
 if he had been drowned instead of engaged, and 
 Agnes started up she knew, it appears, that he 
 was going to try and see you in some way last 
 evening and she said, ' "Well ! ' 
 
 " ' I hope so,' said he. And then he came and 
 sat down between father and mother, and told 
 them all about you, and how you had taken care 
 of your little sister, and studied, and read, and 
 behaved yourself generally, and that he wanted to 
 put a stop to it all by taking charge of you 
 and everybody else himself. Sister made her 
 speech, too, and swore to all Lewis said, and 
 mamma cried, and papa used his pocket-handker 
 chief trumpet-fashion. My dear, it was as good as 
 a play ! Now, don't get vexed. % I did ; for I had 
 set my heart on his marrying Josephine Wright, 
 and I told him he had behaved shamefully to- her. 
 I dare say you think he couldn't behave shame 
 fully to any one ! He and Agnes set to work to 
 prove to me that it was all my imagination and 
 mamma's, because she was so anxious to get Lewis 
 married."
 
 284: LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 Margaret's inborn pride struggled for a mo 
 ment with her better nature, to put thoughts of 
 anger towards Kate, and distrust of Lewis, rn the 
 " vessel of her peace," but she battled with it 
 bravely, in the silence she enjoined upon herself. 
 
 " I wouldn't hear one word though, till, just in 
 the midst of it, I got a note from Joe, with that 
 cologne-stand there on the bureau the seventh 
 cologne-stand, my dear, that came into this house 
 last evening ! Everybody pitches on them when 
 they don't know what else to get at Christmas, as 
 they give children JSToah's Arks. Charley had 
 three Noah's Arks this morning, with the pros 
 pect of another. There's the note now. I was 
 so vexed that I tossed it into the table-drawer last 
 night. Just hear ! " 
 
 " But perhaps I ought not to." 
 
 " Oh dear, ye"s ! It will set your mind at rest, 
 too, if you ever heard the report that they were 
 engaged ; I know you have by the way you looked 
 just now." 
 
 Kate smoothed out, and glanced over the 
 crumpled, amber-colored sheet. 
 
 " She wrote to tell me that she was engaged 
 herself two days ago. Let's see, Monday evening.
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 285 
 
 Three whole days ago, and without telling me; 
 however, we shall never be BO intimate again. 
 She says it was the night Lewis rode home with 
 her from Anne's my own plan it was, too and 
 she knew, if ever he intended to propose, he 
 would have done it then. We used to talk it 
 over, you know. Don't look so shocked. And 
 so, as Morton Sargeant did, that very night, she 
 accepted him on the spot, and has ' had the most 
 beautiful Christmas presents from all the family ! ' 
 So that matter was settled ! " 
 
 Kate forced a hair-pin into the braid she had 
 just completed with such energy that Margaret 
 started away from her, her mind greatly quieted, 
 nevertheless, by the relation she had been listening 
 to. After all, it was but natural that Kate should 
 feel as she had done. If they had all felt so, and 
 opposed the whole arrangement, it would still 
 have been what she might have expected. 
 
 Margaret's pride gave way to a sudden access 
 of humility, as she thought how few would ever 
 have overcome conventional prejudice as Lewis 
 had done, or would have received her so warmly 
 as all his family appeared to do. The very aspect 
 of this room, so large, so heavily furnished the
 
 286 LOSS AOT> GAIN} OK, 
 
 polished wardrobe, reflecting her figure like a 
 mirror the elegant dressing-bureau the low, 
 graceful bedstead the carpet, with its tiny bou 
 quets of rose-buds all brought home to her the 
 great difference as to their social position. 
 
 " There, now look at yourself, and be obliged 
 to me. I wouldn't have supposed it would make 
 such a difference." Kate caught up an opera- 
 cloak with an edge of ermine, and threw it over 
 Margaret's plain attire, then wheeled her chair 
 about directly in front of the mirror. " More like 
 Queen Margaret than Lewis's Saint: he was 
 actually so poetical as to liken you to that dis 
 tinguished individual, when I asked him what 
 kind of a face you had ; for I did not remember 
 you, though sister and mamma did." 
 
 The broad braided coronal Kate had bound 
 around Margaret's head had indeed changed the 
 whole style of her face. Margaret scarcely recog 
 nized herself. But it was not the coiffure alone ; 
 the bright, hopeful expression belonged to the new 
 phase of life she had entered upon so suddenly. 
 
 " I wonder if those people have come ; it's high 
 time. Don't you want to see sister's room ? Let's 
 go down."
 
 MAKGABET'S HOME. 287 
 
 It was a relief to go anywhere, in this excited 
 state of expectancy. It certainly seemed as if 
 Lewis and his sister might have reached home 
 long ago. Kate had by no means hurried in her 
 self-appointed task as hair-dresser. 
 
 " Come in," said Miss Churchill to the light 
 knock which announced these two girls, so unlike, 
 yet standing there as if accustomed for years to 
 familiar intercourse. Even Kate respected her 
 sister's love of quiet and seclusion by asking for 
 admittance ; but now she threw open the door 
 with a flourish, and gave place to Margaret. " I 
 was just coming to bring Margaret down," said 
 Agnes, turning to see her. 
 
 " "When you had put your bonnet in its box, 
 and folded your shawl in the original creases. 
 Where is your Silver-hair ? Oh, here she is. Do 
 you know your sister, little one ? " And there lay 
 Susie herself, nestled among the fair large pillows 
 on the lounge, the crimson frock standing out by 
 contrast, and the short golden locks brushed back 
 into close rings on her blue-veined forehead. 
 Susie seemed much more at home, and far less 
 astonished than Margaret j but the end of all these 
 mysteries had come.
 
 288 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 " It wasn't very good of you, Margaret, not to 
 tell me that you knew my Miss Agnes all the while." 
 
 Agnes turned round and looked towards them 
 with that same " slow smile." There was no need 
 for Margaret to question Lewis now, as she in 
 tended to the very minute she saw him alone 
 again, how he knew wher^her home was, and of 
 her home life. She had never heard Miss Church 
 ill's name before. How well it suited her ! and 
 how thoroughly happy she looked in the success 
 of her little plot ! 
 
 " But how did you get here, Susie ? " 
 
 " She brought me," said Susie, laying her head 
 back again contentedly, and wonderfully at home. 
 But Susie had lived in fairy land so much of her 
 life, and been witness to so many Arabian en 
 chantments, that she was perfectly satisfied to act 
 in one. 
 
 ' But how ? Who dressed you, Susie ? " 
 
 "Ruthy. She came round just as you went, 
 before church, and dressed me in five minutes, 
 and told me to keep still as a mouse until Miss 
 Agnes came for me. She said you were going to 
 spend the day with her ; so I knew it was all 
 right, and I came ; though I did not think it was
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 289 
 
 going to be sucli a lovely house ; it's as good as 
 the White Cat's Palace, I think." 
 
 " Good Susie ! I think you and I shall be 
 friends," said Kate, getting down on the floor 
 beside her. " Will I do for the White-Cat Prin 
 cess ? I'm sister to Miss Agnes." 
 
 " Margaret looks like a princess with her hair 
 that way, doesn't she ? Did you fix it so ? " 
 
 But Margaret did not care to have Susie enter 
 on one of her eulogies. 
 
 " Was father at home when you came away ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; he told me to tell you he hoped you 
 and I would have a pleasant time." 
 
 " She wants to go straight home again, Susie," 
 said Kate ; " shall we let her? " 
 
 " Do you, Margaret ? Oh, I wouldn't ! " 
 
 The deprecating tone spoke Susie's satisfaction" 
 with her present surroundings and prospects very 
 decidedly. 
 
 " But I didn't tell you," said she, breaking 
 forth again, " how Miss Agnes wrapped me all up 
 in a great shawl when she came, and mother 
 looked so astonished, and he held me all the 
 way." 
 
 " There's the dinner-bell. Come, Susie " and 
 13
 
 290 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 Kate held out her hand. " "We dine at two on 
 Christmas day, to give the servants an afternoon." 
 
 Susie rose with alacrity. " You'll stay, won't 
 you, Margaret ? " 
 
 " I'll answer for her," said Agnes, as the two 
 came close behind. 
 
 " I was so glad it was the good gentleman who 
 took me to you in the store. I didn't tell you, did 
 I ? " said Susie, dropping Kate's hand to squeeze 
 Margaret's, by way of venting her delight, as 
 they went out into the hall. " He said he was 
 going to be my brother too." 
 
 " Hush, Susie ! " 
 
 " He did ; didn't he, Miss Agnes ? and then I 
 was to call him Lewis. Do you call him Lewis ? 
 I should be afraid to." 
 
 " So is she," said some one close behind them, 
 who took Margaret's hand and drew her arm 
 through his. " Pass on, Kate. Mother and father 
 have gone down, Agnes. Anne has just come, 
 But she is going to try very hard, Susie." 
 
 It was a grand family dinner, as our readers 
 who have already known something of its purvey 
 ing, can well imagine. The sirloin before Mr. 
 Churchill, the turkey which Mrs. Churchill re-
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 291 
 
 signed to Mr. Parker's carving, the chicken-pie 
 helped by Agnes, with the many side-dishes and 
 sauces which went to make up the feast. Susie's 
 eyes opened wider and wider every moment, and 
 she ceased to ask, " May I, sister ? " before tasting 
 the many dainties with which Mrs. Churchill con 
 tinually filled her plate ; and who met all Mar 
 garet's " Please nots " with a " Can't possibly hurt 
 her, my dear; just what she needs, building up. 
 Young Dr. Meigs would tell you so." Charlie 
 Parker, seated between her and his mother, and 
 very busy with his potato and turkey, was for 
 once thrown quite in the shade. 
 
 The dessert was equally bountiful, though 
 Margaret did positively prohibit a huge slice of 
 the famous plum pudding to the object of Mrs. 
 Churchill's hospitable cares. Not that she her 
 self had been neglected ; there were so many to 
 see to, that if Susie had not been there to dis 
 tract her thoughts from her novel position, she 
 would have suffered from painful embarrassment. 
 Perhaps Agnes had thought of this when laying 
 her plans with Lewis. She knew, at least, that it 
 was the only thing which would keep Margaret 
 with them all day. But-the dinner, with the fresh
 
 LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 introductions to Mr. and Mrs. Parker, the close 
 neighborhood of Lewis, and Mr. Churchill's un 
 comfortable allusions, was a trying ordeal. Mar 
 garet was only too thankful to find herself quite 
 alone with Lewis in the drawing-room, after it had 
 all ended, the family disappearing in various di 
 rections, and Susie with them. 
 
 Yet it was the first moment that she acknowl 
 edged fairly to herself their relation to each other, 
 and she stood by the mantel confused and shrink 
 ing a little, when Lewis came towards her, and 
 folded her closely in his arms. 
 
 "My own Margaret -my pearl all my own, 
 soon. You must not make me wait long for my 
 home." 
 
 She felt his kiss upon her brow, as she leaned 
 against his heart, and listened to its strong throb 
 bing as she had done the night before a fond, 
 loving kiss, but gentle as a woman's, with its 
 lingering pressure. 
 
 " You have not had my Christmas gift yet," 
 he said, releasing her at length. " "Will you take 
 it, Margaret? " He slipped a golden circlet, with 
 one large pure pearl in the centre, on the hand he
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 293 
 
 still held, and she knew all that he implied by the 
 emblem. 
 
 The afternoon faded in the twilight ; the fire 
 shone out with a deeper glow into the dusky 
 shadows of the room ; it had passed so swiftly. 
 No wonder, when there was so much to be said. 
 Margaret moved to speak of her inner life as she 
 had never done before to any human being, tell 
 ing something even of the great struggle through 
 which she had passed, not to love him. And he 
 in turn or rather it was this that unlocked her 
 heart traced the gradual interest he had felt in 
 her from the first moment they had met ; how 
 the injustice of the suspicion which had fallen on 
 her first revealed to him that it had deepened into 
 love; and Margaret rejoiced in the trial then, as 
 a blessing in disguise, and thanked God for the 
 strength that had kept her true to herself and her 
 creed, when he said that he had long known the 
 real offender, and still hesitated what course to 
 pursue towards her. 
 
 The selfishness of lovers is proverbial, and it 
 required immense self-denial to come out of this 
 mood and go up with Agnes, who came to remind 
 them that they were " still in the body," to the
 
 294: LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 sitting-room attached to Mrs. Churchill's chamber. 
 Mrs. Churchill made room for her on the comfort 
 able old-fashioned sofa, and expatiated on Charlie's 
 teeth and accomplishments, while Susie and the 
 young gentleman, on the floor at their feet, ap 
 parently the best of friends, made interminable 
 processions of the animals from his numerous 
 arks. 
 
 Mr. Parker and his respected father-in-law 
 meantime were discussing the prospects of busi 
 ness in the spring, and Mrs. Parker sat in "sister 
 Agnes' room," hearing the whole story of the en 
 gagement from her. 
 
 When lights disturbed these various tete-a-tHes, 
 tea was brought up socially, the handsome silver 
 equipage shining on the round table, at which 
 Mrs. Churchill presided, while Kate made herself 
 generally useful as waitress, John having his 
 share of the holiday abroad ; after which they 
 adjourned to the drawing-room, Mrs. Parker ex 
 cusing herself to see Charlie in bed, but not 
 before they had gathered around the hearth and 
 sung the dear old evening hymn, a time-honored 
 custom, brought down from Mrs. Churchill's own 
 home. All joined in the hymn ; but Susie's voice
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 295 
 
 rose clear and full above the rest, so that even 
 Agnes involuntarily paused to listen to its strange 
 sweetness, and wonder at the child, sitting up 
 erect, with reverently folded hands, as she sang - 
 
 " Glory to thee, my G-od, this night, 
 For all the blessings of the light" 
 
 The united acknowledgment of dependence 
 and thanksgiving touched Margaret as nothing 
 else had done, and drew her towards them, for 
 were they not all of the same " household of 
 faith?" 
 
 The Christmas day was over, and Margaret 
 returned to her own lowly home ; but she would 
 not be there long, for 
 
 " On her finger was a ring 
 She could still see glittering, 
 Though the night hid every thing."
 
 296 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 MKS. GRANT'S primary ambition was accom 
 plished, though it still soared to " Alps on Alps " 
 above the neat and comfortable house in Lombard 
 Street, within sound of the chimes from the dear 
 old parish church, almost beneath its shadow. 
 
 Mr. Dunlap had been very kind, and interested 
 himself to persuade Mr. Adams to advance all that 
 was necessary on the share of the patent Mr. 
 Grant had retained : and it was finally arranged 
 between them that the entire right should be 
 yielded to Mr. Adams, a yearly dividend of its 
 proceeds to be paid to the fortunate inventor. It 
 promised to be a fair success, without involving 
 Mr. Grant in any further responsibility. 
 
 Mrs. Dunlap's original interest was heightened 
 when she came to know of the little romance in 
 progress ; and she, with her daughters, had called 
 immediately; so that Margaret felt she should
 
 MAKQARET'S HOME. 297 
 
 have some friends of her own among the circle 
 she was so soon to enter. Her engagement was 
 of course a nine days' wonder to the town, even 
 entire strangers to both parties making it the 
 topic of conversation, with marginal notes and 
 comments. The little fortune which had fallen to 
 Mr. Grant, and which was doubled and trebled as 
 it passed from one to another, served to explain 
 matters, and to satisfy the wise researches of pub 
 lic opinion. 
 
 " Of course," said Mrs. Bond, " that alters 
 the case : and I suppose his friends will have to 
 overlook her having been in the store : but la, I 
 shall always think, when I meet her, if she is in 
 the Churchill carriage, how many times she's waited 
 on me behind the counter ! Why, she sold me this 
 very brocade ! " 
 
 " I pity his poor sisters, though," remarked 
 Mrs. Thompson. "It must be a great blow to 
 them, especially Kate. But it's just as well to 
 have her airs taken down a little. She's the 
 proudest piece I ever did see. How did they take 
 it, Mrs. Bond ? " 
 
 " Oh, hard enough, at first ! There was a 
 
 tremendous storm, I'm told. Mr. Churchill said 
 13*
 
 298 LOSS AND GAIN; OB, 
 
 she should never step her foot into the house ; and 
 Kate cried with rage : but he brought them all 
 round, after a while." 
 
 " But they seem very fond of her now," urged 
 Mrs. "White, who, being very romantic in dispo 
 sition, was dying to visit Margaret, and quite ready 
 for an intense friendship. " Our pew is next to 
 theirs ; and she sat with them the very day the 
 engagement came out. I don't believe they were 
 so very much opposed to it as the people say." 
 
 " La, yes they were, my dear ! I had it from 
 the very best authority." Mrs. Bond did not 
 think it worth while to name this authority. It 
 was her chambermaid, who was very intimate 
 with the domestics of the Churchill family. " Of 
 course, now that the thing is done, they have to 
 make the best of it before people." 
 
 It is thus, dear reader, that your affairs and 
 mine are discussed by the little circle that make 
 our public ; and this is the maximum of truth in 
 the various bits of intelligence circulating, at times, 
 with regard to what we fondly consider family 
 secrets, usually to be traced to some such reliable 
 and trustworthy source. However, let us go on>
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 299 
 
 as did the Churchills, in " the integrity of our 
 way ; " and none of these things shall move ns. 
 
 They could not trouble Margaret's peace. It 
 was more than peace, a radiant joy, that pervad 
 ed her whole life. If there ever is a time when 
 one may give themselves up to the illusion of 
 perfect human happiness, it is when the certainty 
 of mutual affection has its daily signs and tokens 
 in the watchful love that seems to live only for 
 the one object, of surrounding us with all that can 
 minister to our comfort and happiness when we 
 women reign as absolute queens, and are not ask 
 ed or expected to yield our wills and wishes to a 
 divided sovereignty the fleeting, dreaming, magic 
 days of courtship a period filled with all that the 
 almost disused name implies. 
 
 To Margaret, who had never from her child 
 hood known a time of watchful care and shield 
 ing, but had ever been steadily the guardian of 
 the well-being and happiness of others, this devo 
 tion was especially grateful. From the first mo 
 ment that the warm folds of the plaid had been 
 thrown around her, that dreary, stormy evening, 
 she had rested in being cared for, as one who has 
 buffeted long with angry waves, enjoys doubly
 
 300 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 the stillness and security of some unlooked-for 
 haven, suddenly opening its clear, unruffled tide 
 and sheltered shores. It was happiness enough 
 and so great that it was sometimes shadowed by 
 the fear of change to sit in the quiet of her own 
 room, and think over all these things, as her needle 
 flew, in the preparation of the ample wardrobe 
 her father had charged her to provide. The dread 
 might have grown into morbid presentiment and 
 apprehension, had it not been for the added trust 
 she had gained in the wisdom and goodness of the 
 Providence that had so far guided her life, and the 
 strong faith, stronger than ever, that, when re 
 verses came, she should still be helped to rely on 
 infinite wisdom, and look, beyond all human loss 
 or trial, to the life that is to come. Absorbed in 
 such a reverie, her eyes dim with grateful tears, 
 Margaret sat, one morning, quite alone. She had 
 persuaded Mrs. Grant, whose disposition improved 
 with her fortunes, to send the boys to school regu 
 larly ; and Susie was gone to her morning lesson 
 with her dear Miss Agnes, a happy hour to the 
 little girl and her self-appointed teacher. 
 
 From the brightness of the present and future, 
 Margaret's thoughts had strayed back to the past 
 
 J
 
 MARGAKET'S HOME. 301 
 
 winter, and rested on Adelaide Long's still unac 
 countable enmity towards her. She had scarcely 
 thought of her, of late, in the midst of her absorb 
 ing occupations ; and, as she said to herself, 
 " Poor girl ! I wonder what Lewis has decided. 
 I wish I could see her, and tell her how she 
 has wronged herself," Mrs. Grant's maid of all 
 work, a tidy, decent girl, came up to announce a 
 visitor. 
 
 " Do you know the lady, Joan ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am ; and she had a veil over her 
 face ; and she said she wanted to see you very 
 particular. She tould me to ask you if she can 
 come up to your room. She wants to see you all 
 alone. Oh, ma'am, here she is now ! " said the 
 girl, with a start, as a light step came close behind 
 her. 
 
 Margaret herself started, for it was Adelaide 
 Long, who had followed the girl, and stood before 
 her. 
 
 " You will let me come right in, won't you, 
 Margaret ? Do ; I must see you all alone. I 
 would not meet any one for the world." The tone 
 and manner were so changed, so imploring, and 
 the face, now that she drew aside her veil, looked
 
 302 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 so thin and haggard, that Margaret could scarcely 
 believe it was Adelaide after all ; and when the door 
 was closed, she sank on the nearest chair, and be 
 gan sobbing hysterically. " Oh, Margaret, don't 
 tell him Mr. Churchill ! Ask him not to expose 
 me ! Oh, it would kill me ! You can do any 
 thing with him, I know : ask him not to ex 
 pose it ! " 
 
 " "What is it, Adelaide ? " said Margaret, sooth 
 ingly. She knew it could be but one thing, yet 
 greatly wondered that she should be appealed 
 to as knowing the guilt already. 
 
 " I know you don't keep any thing from each 
 other, and I've just found out it was you who was 
 waiting at the dressmaker's, that night. Oh, 
 Margaret, I know I've been spiteful and wicked 
 towards you, but don't tell, or, if you have, beg 
 him to let me go ! won't you, Margaret ? I felt 
 so guilty that night, and I've often worried about 
 it, and wondered who it was sitting there so still. 
 Mrs. Down said it was you ; I asked her last 
 night, when I went to pay my bill. You've got 
 every thing in the world to make you happy ; if 
 you only knew how miserable I was' and have been 
 ever since it happened, you would promise me."
 
 MABGAKET'S HOME. 303 
 
 " Mr. Churchill knows all about it, Adelaide." 
 " And you will make him have the law upon 
 me. You hate me for all I did ; why don't you 
 say so ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, Adelaide, I hate no one." 
 " But you must you can't help it ; I should, 
 if I were in your place. I've tried every way to 
 injure you and hurt your feelings I know I have ; 
 but I was jealous of you, Margaret, and if you've 
 ever felt that, you will know what made me do 
 so. ' It was Albert Wood. I saw he began to talk 
 to you, and talk about you, and I wanted to get 
 you out of the store out of his way ; so I hid the 
 robe first, and put the box under your counter. 
 I did, Margaret, but I did not dream of stealing it 
 then." 
 
 " Oh, how could you ! " and Margaret felt 
 grieved to the heart that any one could deliberate 
 ly plan and execute such a wrong towards another, 
 apart from the injury to herself. " Don't wring 
 your hands so, Adelaide ; try to talk quietly ; I 
 have never injured you in any way." 
 
 " Oh, I know you never did ! That was what 
 made me hate you the more after I had done it ; 
 don't pay me back now. Oh, if you knew all ! "
 
 304: LOSS AND GAIN', OR, 
 
 " Tell me all, then ; you can trust me, Addy. 
 I did not even tell Mr. Churchill." 
 
 " Did not ? truly, Margaret ? " And the storm 
 of tears was stayed with wonder at such undream 
 ed-of forbearance. " Not even when they thought 
 you took it ? " 
 
 " No, not even after I knew you had the robe 
 and had worn it. Will you not tell me now ? 
 But you must not think that I did not want to or 
 mean to, at first ; it was a very hard struggle, and 
 if I had been left to myself, I should have done it." 
 
 " I don't know why you didn't, but I will tell 
 you ; I know you will not let Mr. Churchill bring 
 me out. Say you won't ; I'll get down on my 
 knees to you I'll do any thing ! " pleaded Ade 
 laide. 
 
 Margaret looked at her sorrowfully ; she could 
 not bear to witness such humiliation. 
 
 "I can't promise for Mr. Churchill, but I know 
 he does not wish to injure you, any more than 
 I do. He will do just what he thinks best and 
 right ; I could not influence him otherwise, if I 
 wished to. ' ' 
 
 " But, Margaret, suppose that when he was 
 going to marry you, only he had not said so, but
 
 MAJRGAKET'S HOME. - 305 
 
 looked and acted it, and waited on you, you 
 should find that he was thinking about somebody 
 else, and hesitating which to have ? That was the 
 way of it, and I knew Albert didn't love you, only 
 everybody in the store thought you must have 
 saved a great deal of money, because you lived at 
 home and spent so little on yourself ; and I know 
 that if I had any money, he would not have hesi 
 tated a minute." 
 
 " He did not love you, then," said Margaret, 
 indignantly. " You will be a great deal better off 
 without him. If he had loved you truly, he never 
 would have thought of any one else." 
 
 " I didn't care then, so I had him away from 
 every one else. I loved him, Margaret ; I love 
 him now. Yes, nothing he does or can do will 
 alter it ; but I know what you mean. Never mind, 
 I would have married him, if I had felt it all 
 then. I have been married two months, Margaret." 
 The bitterness, the fierceness, that passed over that 
 changed face, told a more pitiful story than her 
 words. She was already reaping the wages of 
 wrong-doing ; her blind self-will and vanity had 
 bound her, for life, to a selfish, heartless man. 
 Two months only, and she was already a neglected,
 
 -306 LOSS AND GAUST; OK, 
 
 suffering wife. "It must come out, sooner or 
 later," she said, more sullenly, when she found 
 that, in her vehemence, she had betrayed her se 
 cret ; " the sooner the better ; I am tired of it 
 tired of every thing ! I wish I was dead ! I do ! 
 dead ! " 
 
 " You must not talk so ; you do not mean it. 
 You are angry at something, just now. I hope 
 you will be happy." But as Margaret uttered the 
 wish and it was said sincerely she felt that 
 there was very little chance for its fulfilment. 
 
 "You know it all, now just what made me 
 hate you so, when he tormented me by talking 
 about you ; and afterwards, I thought the dress 
 would be so becoming. I did not mean really to 
 take it at first, only to make them think you had ; 
 and I was bent on having him. I only wore it to 
 make him fond of me. He knew I was extrava 
 gant, and he did not think of any thing wrong ; 
 that was what kept him back, because I had 
 nothing ; I always spent every dollar on my dress. 
 Oh, Margaret, if I had only known better ! If I 
 had only had some one to tell me, when I was 
 younger to keep me back ! But I never had any 
 thing else to do with what I earned."
 
 MABGAKET'S HOME. 307 
 
 The care for others had kept Margaret from 
 this temptation, at least ; she had never recognized 
 the blessing it had been to her, in all its fulness 
 before. She longed to say something that could 
 help and comfort Adelaide, she seemed so 
 thoroughly humbled and broken in spirit. To do 
 right was all that Lewis desired ; surely, she could 
 promise for him not to " break a bruised reed." 
 
 " I know Mr. Churchill only wishes your real 
 good, Addy. He did not think it was right or 
 just to you and to the others to let it go without 
 any notice, and he has waited to see whether you 
 were in fault, again. He will understand it now, 
 and forgive you, if you will only try to do differ 
 ently in all things. You will promise me to " 
 
 " I will do any thing, Margaret, I said I would ; 
 only it would kill me, don't you see, if he Albert 
 should find it out. He would leave me in a 
 minute ; I think He means to, sometimes, now. I 
 did not mean to say that, but you don't know, 
 yon don't know ! " and she wrung her hands again 
 passionately. 
 
 If Margaret had wished to see her enemy suf 
 fering double for all she had undergone, she could 
 have had her revenge ; but she had tried to think
 
 308 LOSS AND GAm; OK 
 
 gently and pityingly always ; she had prayed, many 
 a day, from an earnest soul " Forgive our ene 
 mies, persecutors and slanderers, and turn their 
 hearts" This was her answer. Who could tell 
 but that, from deeps so broken up, true penitence 
 might spring? She hoped so, she prayed so, 
 silently, as she tried to soothe the miserable girl. 
 
 " You are an angel, Margaret ! " said Ade 
 laide, suddenly, lifting her face from her hands, 
 and pushing back the disordered hair from her 
 hot, swollen eyes. " How can you say such things 
 to me, when you know I tried my best to injure 
 you? What makes you forgive me, and promise 
 to help me ? " And, as she asked the question, a 
 dim sense of the reality of the faith which, could 
 so bend the natural human impulse of retaliation 
 dawned on the shame and wretchedness of the 
 hour. 
 
 It was a painful scene, from first to last ; and 
 after she was gone, Margaret felt as if a great 
 weight had been suddenly laid upon her, with 
 every recollection of that wild, haggard face. She 
 bore it where all her own griefs were laid ; for 
 she remembered the charge, "Love your ene 
 mies ; " and yet again : " Bear ye one another's 
 burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ."
 
 MAKGARET'S HOME. 309 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE wedding-day had come. " At last ! " said 
 Lewis Churchill. " So soon ! " thought Margaret, 
 as she tried to regain the calm happiness with 
 which she had looked forward to it from the short 
 winter days. It was difficult to do this in the 
 unusual bustle of the household, and especially 
 of her own room, where Kate Churchill reigned 
 supreme. They were to walk to church, for it 
 was but a stone's throw ; and it suited the sim 
 plicity of the bride's fortunes better than the 
 pomp and circumstance which Mrs. Churchill tried 
 to prove to her were quite indispensable. Agnes 
 and Lewis were both on Margaret's side ; and 
 their mother was forced to content herself with 
 the arrangement of the no longer vacant house 
 next to Anne's in Ashburton Place. Here she 
 toiled early and late, with " father " for a busy 
 and efficient aid, in the midst of upholsterers and
 
 310 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 paper-hangers, until she had the satisfaction ot 
 shutting the hall- door on the whole of the delay 
 ing, troublesome troop, and turning the key on a 
 finished work. 
 
 " You will at least take off your bonnet in the 
 vestry," said Kate. " Do, Margaret. I shall not 
 feel as if I am a bridesmaid at all, especially as I 
 have jilted Josephine in your service. I wonder 
 which she thinks most of, this morning, her hus 
 band that is to be, or her wedding-dress ? Lepage 
 is to do her hair." 
 
 " You are my first and last hair-dresser, you 
 know, Kate." 
 
 "Then let me do as I please. The bonnet 
 comes off and here go these white rose-buds 
 Ruth has brought, with all their foliage it's just 
 enough and some of this trailing white vine, 
 whatever it is as you won't have a wreath, and 
 veil, and things." 
 
 Margaret was content to submit to her authori 
 tative dressing-maid. She was thinking neither 
 of her wedding-dress, nor yet of Lewis, but of 
 Susie, her child, her nursling of her gray-haired 
 father who walked the rooms below with restless, 
 unquiet tread and of her dead mother's charge.
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 311 
 
 Susie wondered at the long yearning looks 
 which followed her about the room. There was 
 nothing that she could see to grieve about ; they 
 were not going to be separated ; she had already 
 been taken into Mrs. Churchill's confidence, and 
 shown that dear little room Lewis had given 
 especial charge to be fitted up for her. Her 
 Utopia had descended from the clouds ; and she 
 was to dwell in it securely, Margaret and herself 
 really living together not quite alone ; but then 
 she did not mind " brother Lewis," as she began 
 to call him. He was an improvement decidedly 
 on her original scheme. 
 
 A new life had lighted up Susie's large loving 
 eyes, and tinged her cheek with a faint rose flush, 
 the whole face rounding and brightening into 
 something of the grace of childhood. Short, 
 close curls, catching the sunlight, made up the 
 picture ; and Susie may be pardoned a little 
 vanity in her first real white dress and blue rib 
 bons, for she was to be second bridesmaid, and 
 already felt quite as old as " Miss Kate," who was 
 to officiate as principal attendant, and had drilled 
 her thoroughly in the morning's duties. 
 
 The same feeling of unreality which made her
 
 312 LOSS AND GAIN; OK, 
 
 as one walking in a dream, that Christmas Day, 
 haunted Margaret, as she once more entered the 
 old church, and passed down the broad aisle 
 towards the chancel. A glorious Easter sun had 
 flushed the great willows and the churchyard with 
 vivid green ; and soft shadows came and went 
 among the bridal party as they gathered about 
 the rail. They were not alone. Friends and 
 acquaintances stood up in the ample pews ; the 
 old companions of Margaret's daily life, half- 
 pleased half-envious, at the prosperity which had 
 come to her, leaned forward to catch a glimpse of 
 her face in passing ; and strangers, attracted only 
 by the rumor of a church-wedding, had turned 
 aside with vague curiosity and admiration of the 
 queenly simplicity and elegance of the bride. 
 The rich light from the chancel window rested on 
 her bowed head as she knelt and strove to quell 
 the tumult of glad and painful thought; for 
 though Lewis was beside her, she heard still her 
 father's tremulous, parting blessing, and knew 
 how much of the brightness of his life he had 
 cheerfully resigned. The heavy braided coronal, 
 the few white flowers, the full-flowing folds of the 
 dove-colored silk that swept around her to the
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 313 
 
 marble pavement was all her " worldly arraying ; " 
 but even Mrs. Churchill, looking on through her 
 smiles and tears, was fully satisfied, and wondered 
 she had never thought Margaret beautiful before. 
 
 "And so endeth the wooing," with the few 
 solemn words involving a lifetime happiness and 
 often the destinies of the hereafter, with the bless 
 ing of their friend and pastor, who knew all, and 
 rejoiced with them the kisses and congratula 
 tions of those near at hand, not forgetting Mrs. 
 Grant, who in a toilet of Margaret's choosing, 
 sustained herself wonderfully, and controlled the 
 boys by manifold maternal gestures, better under 
 stood than described Ruth's proud, motherly 
 kiss, for Ruth felt herself to be the chief original 
 cause of this fortunate climax, and certainly was 
 confided in and " made much " of by them all, as 
 if she had been with the close pressure of the 
 arm on which she leaned, and the thrilling whis 
 per, " My wife," as they turned from the little 
 crowd " Margaret " was known henceforth, as 
 Mrs. Churchill. 
 
 As for Mrs. Churchill, senior, her triumph 
 was yet to come ; she was in her element, in ex 
 ecuting the manoauvre by which Agnes, " father," 
 14
 
 314: LOSS AND GAIN; OR, 
 
 and herself were detached from the party waiting 
 the signing and sealing in the vestry, leaving 
 Kate and Susie to follow in the carriage with 
 Lewis and his wife. It was her kind, motherly 
 face that watched for them from the parlor win 
 dow in Ashburton Place, and was first to welcome 
 Margaret home. Yes, she had her home at last ; 
 its bright, cheerful rooms looked a welcome, as she 
 went from one to another, Lewis, too, seeing them 
 for the first time, for he had left all to his mother 
 and sisters. Mrs. Churchill bustled on before 
 them, throwing open doors, displaying closets, 
 glorying especially in the linen-press, filled to 
 overflowing: while Susie followed on behind, 
 exclaiming, admiring, rejoicing in all she saw, 
 especially the fine piano in the parlor, which she 
 was to be allowed to practise the lessons from 
 Agnes upon, appealing to Margaret, and Lewis, 
 and Kate, by turns, to say if " her room, though, 
 was not a great, great deal the prettiest." 
 
 There certainly seemed nothing to be desired 
 taste, experience, and liberal expenditure had 
 combined in the arrangement ; and in Margaret's 
 own room, with its carved furniture and graceful 
 draperies, stood a round table, covered with her
 
 MARGARET'S HOME. 315 
 
 bridal gifts. She had not thought of these. Lewis 
 had bought her the pearl brooch clasping the lace 
 about her neck, and she valued it as his gift. 
 But here were ornaments more than she should 
 ever wear silver, from Mrs. Dunlop's napkin- 
 rings, and Anne Parker's dozen forks, to the 
 whole tea equipage, which Mr. Churchill had 
 hurried to order at the earliest moment after the 
 wedding-day was fixed a wonderful toilet-cushion, 
 of lace, and muslin, and white ribbons, which Susie 
 had manufactured, under the superintendence of 
 Miss Agnes, also greatly aided by her as we are 
 obliged to confess and a Bible, in large clear 
 type and plain binding, her own father's hand 
 had inscribed, "To my dear daughter Margaret." 
 We will not return again, with the crowd of 
 kinsfolk and acquaintance who thronged the 
 parlors that evening, to offer good wishes and 
 congratulations. We have seen Margaret's home 
 in its best and loveliest light, and we dread no 
 future evil or change to come on those that dwell 
 therein ; for they trusted in One who hath said, 
 " My presence shall go with thee, and I will give 
 thee rest."
 
 D. Appleton & Go's Juvenile Publications. 
 
 MORTIMER'S COLLEGE LIFE. By E. J. MAY, author 
 of " Lewis's School Days," etc. With illustrations, 1 vol. 
 16mo. 75 cents; gilt edges, $1. 
 
 A very pretty story prettily told. A vein of humor runs throughout 
 the volume, tinctured with just enough of religious sentiment to make it 
 agreeable and instructive to the reader. The plot is evidently founded on 
 fact, with now and then a dash of romance to make it interesting. Penn- 
 tylvanian. 
 
 LOUIS'S SCHOOL DAYS. A Story for Boys. By E. J 
 MAT. 16mo. illustrated with engravings, 75 cents. 
 
 The School-days of Louis present a great variety of incident and char 
 acter. The story is naturally and effectively told, and is calculated to en 
 courage the young to persevere in the path of Christian duty. Morning 
 Post. 
 
 Written in the right spirit, by one who can recall his own youth, de 
 scribe its feelings, revive its joys and sorrows, and- speak its language , 
 there is nothing in literature more attractive. London Literary Journal. 
 
 THE SUNSHINE OF GREYSTONE. A Story for 
 Girls. By E. J. MAT, author of Louis's School Boy 
 Days. 1 vol. 16rao. illustrated, 75 cents. 
 Here little girls is a sweet book, made on purpose for you, in neat gilt 
 binding with nice engravings ; a delightful story, with just the least bit of 
 romance for those of you who arc about shedding pantalettes, a little love 
 by way of warning, and every chapter prefaced with a text from scrip 
 ture, appropriate to its contents, and designed to inculcate the virtues 
 which will serve to adorn you when you become women, and make your 
 homes happy, and your lives useful Detroit Inquirer. 
 
 Uniform with Louis's School Days. 
 EDGAR CLIFTON; OK, RIGHT AND WEONO. A Story 
 
 for Boys. By C. ADAMS. 16mo. elegant cloth, with 
 
 numerous illustrations, 75 cents. 
 
 %* The story of " Edgar Clifton " will be found a most appropriate 
 companion to that of "Louis's School Days," the aim of the works being 
 alike. The same lessons of right and truth are inculcated in each. The 
 contents, however, of the books, and the heroes of the stories are so en 
 tirely different, as to render them not only free from sameness, but full of 
 distinctive attractions and claims. 
 
 BOYS AT HOME. By C. ADAMS, author of "Edgar 
 Clifton," etc., etc. Illustrated by John Gilbert. 1 vol. 
 16mo. 75 cents. 
 " A very entertaining volume, Just the kind to make boys read, whether 
 
 they will or not ; and there is no reason why girls should not read it too."
 
 D. Appleton & Cfo.'s Juvenile Publications. 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS STOEY BOOK; OB, THE GOOD 
 STEPMOTIIEB. By Whom ? With a Preface by CATH- 
 EBINE M. SEDGWICK. 1 vol. 16ino. With illustra 
 tions. Price 75 cents. 
 
 CONTENTS I 
 
 Ins BEOTHEES ; OB, IT'S ONLY OUE OWN LITTLE EFFIE, 
 
 iTis WAY, Two SKETCHES FBOM TUB 
 
 O. FOFE, LIFE SCHOOL, 
 
 MA iUETTA AND HEE OAT, THE SLEIGH-ElDE ; OE, WHO 
 
 THE BEOKEN HEAETED, is THE MEANEST ? 
 
 THE PICTURE PLEASURE BOOK. Illustrated with 
 five hundred engravings, from drawings by eminent ar 
 tists. 4to. size, beautifully printed on fine paper, and 
 bound in fancy cover. First and Second Series. $1 50 
 each. 
 
 ** Almost every thing which can please and delight the youthful 
 family circles, will be found both narrated and illustrated in these pages. 
 No book of equal fascinations for young people has ever been published in 
 this country. 
 
 The Picture Pleasure Book is really the child's joy, for it gives him 
 a volume of woodcuts, executed in the best style of art, teaching him natu 
 ral history, educating his eye to good drawing and graceful form, and tell 
 ing stories in pictures. It is an admirable design, and no house that holds 
 children should be without it Critic. 
 
 THE HAPPY DAYS OF CHILDHOOD. By AMY 
 MEADOWS. Illustrated with 24 large engravings from 
 drawings by HAEEISON WEIE. 4to. $1. 
 
 the same, finely colored, $1 50. 
 
 These are charming pictures of scenes and pastimes In the country, 
 which are familiar to all young people. They are described in a lively, 
 fascinating spirit, and accompanied with numerous embellishments, and 
 will delight all the young folks. 
 
 THE WEEK'S DELIGHT; OB, GAMES AND STOEIES 
 FOE THE PARLOE AND FIBESIDE. One neat volume, 
 16mo. With engravings. Price 75 cents. 
 from the Southern Literary Messenger. 
 
 This is a charming little juvenile: we have read nothing so pleasing 
 for a long while, and the simple fact that we have had an hour's " delight " 
 over its pages, is no small compliment we beg to assure our readers. We 
 assure the readers of the Messenger that there is something in " A Week's 
 Delight " unambitious as the tille sounds. It is simply a work for good 
 little girls and boys, and professes no higher end than pointing out to them 
 the means of spending winter evenings pleasantly : this it worthily ac 
 complishes, and in a way which none but a woman could have devise'*.
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 D. APPLETON & CO., 346 & 348 BROADWAY. 
 
 MISS McINTOSH'S JUVENILE L1BEAEY. 
 
 7 vols. ISmo., 37 cents each. 
 
 I. GRACE AND CLARA ; or, 
 
 Be Just as well as Generous. 
 ii. ELLEN LESLIE ; or, The 
 
 Reward of Self-Control 
 m. FLORENCE ARNOTT; or, 
 
 Is She Generous? 
 iv. EMILY HERBERT; or, The 
 
 Happy Home. 
 
 V. ROSE AND LlLLIE STAN 
 HOPE ; or, The Power ol 
 
 Conscience. 
 
 vi. JESSIE GRAHAM ; or, 
 Friends Dear, but Truth 
 Dearer. 
 
 vn. BLIND ALICE. 
 
 " Miss Mclntosh is the most fascinating writer of Juvenile Books of the 
 present day. She endeavors to enforce good principles, while she at the 
 same time caters for the amusement of children." 
 
 TWO NEW JUVENILES, 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF THE " HEIK OF KKDCLTPFB." 
 
 ft 
 
 RICHARD THE FEARLESS ; OR, THE YOUNG DUKE. 
 By the author of the Heir of Redclyfie." With Il 
 lustrations, 1 vol. 16rno., price 62 cents. 
 
 THE LANCES OF LYNWOOD. 
 vol. 16mo., V5 cents. 
 
 With Illustrations, 1 
 
 works as much admired by young people as by those more advanced.
 
 D. Appleton & CoSs Juvenile Publications. 
 
 Just Published. 
 HEWET'S SERIES OF ILLTJMINATED 
 
 HOUSEHOLD STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS. In neat 
 small quarto, with ten superb illustrations, printed in 
 the best style, on very superior paper, from original de 
 signs. Price in illuminated covers and edges, 25 cents ; 
 full bound and gilt edges, 50 cents. 
 
 THIS SERIES -WILL coMPBita THE FOLLOWING VOLUMES : 
 CINDERELLA, BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, 
 
 JACK THE GIANT KILLER, ALADDIN, 
 
 Puss IN BOOTS, GOODY Two SHOES, 
 
 LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD, BABES IN THE WOODS, 
 JACK AND THE BEAN STALK, BLUE BEARD, 
 TOM THUMB. 
 
 This Series of Fairy Stories has for generations been listened to and 
 read by children with an inexpressible delight, which other books hav 
 failed to afford them. 
 
 The extravagance of the stories the attractive manner of telling them 
 the picturesque scenery described tha marvellous deeds related the re 
 ward of virtue and punishment of vice, upon principles strictly ic accord 
 ance with ethical laws, as applied to the formation of character, render 
 them peculiarly adapted to induce children to acquire a love for reading, 
 and to aid them to cultivate the affections, sympathies, fancy and imagi 
 nation. 
 
 The principle, that good examples only should be imitated, has been 
 lost sight of in the Pictorial Embellishment of these standard Fairy Stories, 
 upon.the assumption that indifferent pictures are good enough to give first 
 impressions of Art to Children. If this holds true, then language and 
 morals of a questionable cast will subserve the same ends ; but the fallacy 
 of this dogma, notwithstanding, no one upon reflection will deny. 
 
 That this edition of these Stories may be more perfect than any other 
 extant, the publisher has embellished it with exquisite specimens of high 
 Pictorial Art, from which children may derive those correct ideas that 
 will mature into the beautiful and grand. 
 
 From the Commercial Advertiser. 
 
 Happy the children whose first knowledge of Cinderella is to be gained 
 from such pages I The illustrations are more elegant and expressive than 
 we have seen in any previous edition of the story, and the book is so 
 tasteful in every respect, that it will give its young readers a lesson in Art 
 its well as a capital version of a favorite fairy tale. It is the first of 
 promised series. 
 
 From the N. Y. Tribune. 
 
 The volume now issued gives a rich promise of the character of tha 
 eries. It lias a frontispiece printed in oil colors, which is a new feature in 
 American illustrated books. The pictorial embellishments, which ar 
 profusely scattered throughout the volume, indicate great felicity o< 
 ateign. and M avai-ut^d in a spirited andhighly finished t'tjlw.
 
 D. Appleton & CoSs Juvenile Publications. 
 
 |0plar Isles. 
 
 By Mary Howitt, Mrs. Ellis, Hannah More, &c., &c. 
 
 ALICE FRANKLIN. By Mary Howitt . $0 33 
 
 HOPE ON, HOPE EVEK. By do. 
 
 LITTLE COIN, MUCH CARE. By do. . S3 
 
 LOVE AND MONEY. By do. . 
 
 MY OWN STOKY. By do. . 38 
 
 MY UNCLE, THE CLOCKMAKER. By do. . 38 
 
 NO SENSE LIKE COMMON SENSE. By do. . 38 
 
 SOWING AND REAPING. By do. . 88 
 
 STRIVE AND THRIVE. By do. . 88 
 
 THE TWO APPRENTICES. By do 38 
 
 WHICH IS THE WISER ? By do. 88 
 
 WHO SHALL BE GREATEST? By do. . . 88 
 
 WORK AND WAGES. By do 88 
 
 DOMESTIC TALES. By Hannah More. 2 vols. . . 75 
 
 DANGERS OF DINING OUT. By Mrs. Ellis. ... 88 
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS. By do. . 88 
 
 SOMERVILLE HALL. By do 38 
 
 MINISTER'S FAMILY. Bv do. . 38 
 
 SON OF A GENIUS. By Mrs. Hofland 88 
 
 EARLY FRIENDSHIP. By Mrs. Copley. ... 88 
 
 POPLAR GROVE. By do. . . . . 88 
 
 CHANCES AND CHANGES. By Chas. Burdett . . 88 
 
 NEVER TOO LATE. By do. 88 
 
 CROFTON BOYS. By Miss Martineau. . . . ,83 
 
 PEASANT AND PRINCE. By do 88 
 
 FARMER'S DAUGHTER. By Mrs. Cameron. 88 
 
 TIRED OF HOUSEKEEPING. By T. S. Arthur. 88 
 
 TWIN SISTERS. By Mrs. Sandham 88 
 
 LOOKING-GLASS FOR THE MIND 83 
 
 GOLDMAKER'S VILLAGE. By H. Zschokke. . . .88 
 
 OCEAN WORK. Ancient and Modern. By J. H. Wright . 88 
 
 MART HOWITT'S JUVENILE TALES. 
 
 NEW EDITIONS, BOUND TOGETHER, ENTITLED I 
 
 POPULAR MORAL TALES. 16mo 75 
 
 JUVENILE TALES AND STORIES. 16mo. ... 78 
 
 MY JUVENILE DAYS, and other Tales. 16mo. . . .75 
 
 TALES AND STORIES FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. . . 75 
 
 LIBRARY FOE MY YOTTN(J COTOTRYMEN. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPT. JOHN SMITH. By the Author of 
 
 "Uncle Philip." 88 
 
 ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. By do. 88 
 
 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF HENRY HUDSON. By do. . 88 
 
 D AWNINGS OF GENIUS. By Ann Pratt ... 33 
 
 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF HERNAN CORTEZ. By do. . 88 
 
 PHILIP RANDOLPH. A Tale of Virginia. By M. Gertrude. . 38 
 
 ROWAN'S HIST. OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 2 vols. . 75 
 
 SOUTIIEY'S LIFE OF OLIVER CROMWELL. . . 88
 
 D. Appleton & CoSs Juvenile Publication*. 
 GEORGE'S JOURNEY TO THE LAND OF HAPPI- 
 
 NESS. Translated from the French. Beautifully illustrated with 18 
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 GIRL'S MANUAL; Comprising a Summary View of 
 Female Studies, Accomplishments, and Principles of Conduct 18mo. 
 cloth, 50 cts. 
 
 GOOD IN EVERY THING. A Juvenile Tale. By Mrs. 
 
 F.ARWELL, Handsomely illustrated. 1 vol. 16mo. 50 cts. 
 
 LEGENDS OF THE FLOWERS. By SUSAN PINDAK. 
 
 18mo. illustrated, 75 cts. ; gilt edges, $1. 
 
 LIFE AND WANDERINGS OF A MOUSE. By a 
 
 Lady. Illustrated with 10 exquisite designs by CP.OO.ME. Tvol. IGmo. 
 New edition. 50 cts. 
 
 LITTLE DORA ; OR, THE FOUR SEASONS. By a Lady of 
 
 Charleston. Beautifully illustrated. 31 cts. ; cloth, 25 cts. 
 
 LOUISE ; OR, TnE BEAUTY OF INTEGRITY. And other 
 Tales. 16mo. boards, 81 cts. ; cloth, 83 cts. 
 
 MASTERMAN READY ; OR, THE WRECK OF THE PACIFIC. 
 "Written for Young Persons. By Capt MARETATT. 18mo. frontispiece. 
 63 eta. 
 
 MIDSUMMER FAYS ; OR, THE HOLIDAYS AT WOODLEIGH. 
 By SUSAN PIKDAR. 18mo. Illustrated. 75 cts. ; gilt edges, $1. 
 
 MISSION (THE) ; OR, SCENES IN AFRICA. Written for 
 Young People. By Capt MAEKYATT. 18mo. frontispiece. 03 cts. 
 
 NUTCRACKER AND MOUSE-KING. From the Ger 
 
 man of HOFFMAN, by Mrs. ST. SIMON. 16mo. illustrated. 50 cts. 
 
 OLD OAK TREE (THE). A Tale for the Young. 31 cts. 
 
 PEBBLES FROM THE SEA-SHORE; OR, LIZZIE'S 
 
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 PELL'S GUIDE FOR THE YOUNG TO SUCCESS 
 
 AND HAPPINESS. 12mo. cloth, 38 cts. ; ext cloth, gilt edges, 50 eta. 
 
 PHILIP RANDOLPH. A Tale of Virginia. By MART 
 
 GERTRUDE. ISmo. 38 eta.
 
 D. Appleton & (70. ' Juvenile Publications. 
 A POETRY BOOK FOE CHILDREN. Beautifully 
 
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 PUNCHINELLO. The Life and Adventures of Punchi 
 nello. Embellished with 100 designs. 12mo. cloth, 75 cts. ; cloth, gilt, $1. 
 
 PUSS IN BOOTS. A pure Translation in Prose, from 
 
 the original German. Illustrated with original designs, suitable for tht 
 Tastes of the Young or Old. By the celebrated artist, OTTO SPECKTMU 
 1 vol. square 12mo, 31 cts. ; cloth, 38 cts. ; extra gilt, 63 cts. 
 
 SETTLERS (THE) IN CANADA. Written for Young 
 
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 STUDIES OF ANIMALS. With Instructions for the Lead 
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 $2 25. 
 
 SUSAN PINDAR'S STORY-BOOK. Comprising 
 
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 TRAVELS AND EXTRAORDINARY ADVENTURES 
 
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 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. A Tale. By OLIVER GOLD 
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 VILLAGE AND OTHER TALES. By HANNAH MOKE. 
 
 Comprising the above two volumes in owe. 62J cts. 
 
 WILLIAM TELL, THE PATRIOT OF SWITZER 
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 WINTER EVENING STORY-BOOK. Comprising Sto 
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 YOUNG STUDENT (THE) ; OB, RALPU AND VICTOR. By 
 
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 PICTORIAL ROBINSON CRUSOE THE LIFE 
 
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 tist, GBANVTLLE. One vol. 8vo. of 500 pages, $1 50. 
 
 PICTORIAL (THE) YICAR OF WAKEFIEIJX A 
 
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 PICTORIAL HISTORY OF NAPOLEON BONA 
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 plete in one handsome volume, 8vo. $8 00. 
 
 PICTORIAL HISTORY OF GERMANY. From the 
 
 Earliest Period to the Present Time. By FBEDEBICK KonLKAuscn. 
 Translated from the last German edition, by Jamee D" Ilaas. On 
 volume, 8vo. of 500 pages, $2 Sa
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 orm L9-Series 4939
 
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