of velvet sward between the street and the
house entrance, was embossed with brilliant coleus set in the form of
anchors; and a raised border, running the entire length under the
windows of the basement, was ablaze with geraniums of various hues.

On a granite pediment above the portico, a large bronze anchor was
supported, and beneath it was cut, in projecting letters: "The Umilta
Anchorage".

In front of the building ran a broad, paved boulevard; in the rear, the
enclosure was bounded by a stone wall, overgrown with ivy, and built
upon the verge of the blue lake, whose waves broke against the base,
and rolled away in the distance beyond the northern horizon.

Fully in accord with the liberal eclecticism that characterized its
exterior, was the wide-eyed, deep, tender-hearted charity which,
ignoring all denominational barriers, opened its doors in cordial
welcome to worthy, homeless women, whom misfortune had swept away from
family moorings, and whose clean hands and pure hearts sought some
avenue to honest work. The institution was a memorial erected and
endowed by a wealthy man, whose only child Umilta, just crossing the
threshold of womanhood, had been lost in a sudden storm on the lake;
whose fair, drowned face had been washed ashore just below the stone
wall, and whose statue stood, guarded by marble angels, in the small
chapel in the centre of the building, which was designed as an enduring
monument to commemorate her untimely fate, and perpetuate her name.

Divided into various industrial departments, the "Anchorage" was
maintained almost entirely by the labor of its inmates; and it had
rarely been found necessary to draw from the reserve endowment fund,
that was gradually accumulating for future contingencies.

Trained nurses, trained housekeepers were furnished on demand; lace
curtains mended, laundered; dainty lingerie of every description, from
a baby's wardrobe to a bride's trousseau; ornamental needle-work on all
fabrics; artificial flowers, card engraving, artistic designs for
upholstering, menus, type-writing, all readily supplied to customers;
and certain confectionery put up in pretty boxes made by the inmates,
and bearing the "Anchor" stamp. A school of drawing, etching, painting,
and embroidery attracted many pupils; and a few pensioners who had
grown too infirm and dim-eyed for active work, had a warm, bright room
where they knitted stockings and underwear of various kinds.

At one end of the