hing common about them. Look at their dress; see how
perfect in neatness, in adaptation of colors and arrangement to
complexion and shape, is every thing about them. Perhaps there will
not be found a single young lady in the room, besides them, whose
dress does not show something not in keeping with good taste. Take
their manners. Are they not graceful, gentle, and yet full of
nature's own expression. In a word, is there any thing about them
that is 'common?'"

"Nothing that my eye has detected," replied Mrs. Florence.

"Except their origin," half-sneeringly rejoined Mrs. Marygold.

"They were born of woman," was the grave remark. "Can any of us
boast a higher origin?"

"There are various ranks among women," Mrs. Marygold said, firmly.

"True. But, 'The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gold for a' that.'

"Mere position in society does not make any of us more or less a true
woman. I could name you over a dozen or more in my circle of
acquaintance, who move in what is called the highest rank; who, in
all that truly constitutes a woman, are incomparably below Mrs.
Clayton; who, if thrown with her among perfect strangers, would be
instantly eclipsed. Come then, Mrs. Marygold, lay aside all these
false standards, and estimate woman more justly. Let me, to begin,
introduce both yourself and Melinda to the young ladies this
evening. You will be charmed with them, I know, and equally charmed
with their mother when you know her."

"No, ma'am," replied Mrs. Marygold, drawing herself up with a
dignified air. "I have no wish to cultivate their acquaintance, or
the acquaintance of any persons in their station. I am surprised
that Mrs. Harwood has not had more consideration for her friends
than to compel them to come in contact with such people."

No reply was made to this; and the next remark of Mrs. Florence was
about some matter of general interest.

"Henry Florence has not been here for a week," said Mrs. Marygold to
her daughter Melinda, some two months after the period at which the
conversation just noted occurred.

"No; and he used to come almost every evening," was Melinda's reply,
made in a tone that expressed disappointment.

"I wonder what can be the reason?" Mrs. Marygold said, half aloud,
half to herself, but with evident feelings of concern. The reason of
her concern and Melinda's disappointment arose from the fact that
both had felt pretty sure of securing Henry Florence as a member of
the