lla Barnwell the bankrupt's
daughter; and those who had fawned upon and flattered and courted the
one, now saw proper to pass the other by in silent contempt. It was a
hard, a very hard lesson for one at the tender age of Ella, who had been
petted and pampered all her life, and taught by her own simplicity of
heart to look upon all pretenders as real friends--it was a hard lesson,
we say, for one of her years, to be forced at one bold stroke to learn
the world, and see her happy, artless dreams vanish like froth from the
foaming cup; but if hard, it was salutary--at least with her; and
instead of blasting in the bud, as it might have done a frailer flower,
it set her reason to work, destroyed the romantic sentimentalism usually
attached to females of that excitable age, taught her to rely more upon
herself, and less upon others, more upon actions and less upon words,
and, in short, made a strong minded woman of her at once. Yet this was
not accomplished without many a heart-rending pang, as the briny tears
of chagrin, disappointment, and almost hopeless destitution, that
nightly chased each other down the pale cheeks of Ella Barnwell to the
pillow which supported her feverish head, for weeks, and even months
after the death of her father, could well attest.

The father of Ella was an Englishman, who had emigrated to this country
a few years previous to his marriage; and as none of his near relations
had seen proper to follow his example, Ella, on his side, was left
entirely destitute of any to whom she could apply for assistance and
protection. On her mother's side, she knew of none who would be likely
to assist her so readily as her half uncle, Benjamin Younker, whom she
remembered as having seen at the funeral of her mother; and who then,
taking her in his brawny arms, while the tears dimmed his eyes, in a
solemn, impressive manner told her, that, in the ups and downs of life,
should she ever stand in need of another's strong arm or purse, to call
on him, and that, while blest with either himself, she should not want.
This at the time had made a deep impression on her youthful mind, but
subsequently had been nearly or quite obliterated, until retouched by
feeling the want of that aid then so solemnly and generously tendered.
Accordingly, after trying some of her supposed true-hearted friends--who
had more than once been sharers in her generosity; and who, in return,
had professed the most devoted attachment; but who no