on.

Despite my weariness, there was little sleep for me that night. Affairs
had come to a crisis; my condition was about as bad as it could possibly
be. Whatever was going to become of me? Why, in the name of all common
sense, had I ever come to New York? Why was I not content to remain a
country school-ma'am, in a place where a country school-ma'am was looked
up to as something of a personage? That night, if I had had enough money
to buy a ticket back to the town I had come from, my fate would have
been settled definitely then and there.

Not the least distressing part of my condition was the fact that there
was really no help for me save what I should be able to give myself. To
be sure, I had certain distant relatives and friends who had warned me
against my flight to the city, and to whom I might have written begging
for money sufficient to carry me back to my native place, and the money,
with many "I-told-you-so's," would have been forthcoming. To return
discredited was more than my pride could bear. I had to earn my
livelihood anyway, and so, on this night of grim adversity, owing my
very bed and supper to charity, I set my teeth, and closed my tired lids
over the tears I could not hide, and swore I'd fight it out alone, so
long as I had strength to stand and heart to hope; and then there was
the prospect of a job at Springer's on the morrow, though the wage would
hardly keep body and soul together.

The next morning, while her servants were giving us our breakfast, a
stately middle-aged woman came down to the basement and passed among us,
making inquiries regarding our various conditions, and offering words of
well-meant, if patronizing, advice and suggestion wherever she thought
them needed, but which somehow did not seem to be relished as her more
material kindness had been. When it came my turn to be interviewed I
answered her many questions frankly and promptly, and, encouraged by the
evident interest which she displayed in my case, I was prompted to ask
her if she might know of any place where I could get work. She looked
at me a moment out of fine, clear eyes.

"You would not go into service, I suppose?" she asked slowly.

I had never thought of such an alternative before, but I met it without
a moment's hesitation. "No, I would not care to go into service," I
replied, and as I did so the lady's face showed mingled disappointment
and disgust.

"That is too bad," she answered, "for in that case I'm a