d College instead. There I
took all the honors that I deserved; and if I did not learn to write
poetry, as I once supposed I should, I learned at least to think in
English without an accent. Did I get rich? you may want to know,
remembering my ambition to provide for the family. I can reply that I
have earned enough to pay Mrs. Hutch the arrears, and satisfy all my
wants. And where have I lived since I left the slums? My favorite
abode is a tent in the wilderness, where I shall be happy to serve you
a cup of tea out of a tin kettle, and answer further questions.

And is this really to be the last word? Yes, though a long chapter of
the romance of Dover Street is left untold. I could fill another book
with anecdotes, telling how I took possession of Beacon Street, and
learned to distinguish the lord of the manor from the butler in full
dress. I might trace my steps from my bare room overlooking the
lumber-yard to the satin drawing-rooms of the Back Bay, where I drank
afternoon tea with gentle ladies whose hands were as delicate as
their porcelain cups. My journal of those days is full of comments on
the contrasts of life, that I copied from my busy thoughts in the
evening, after a visit to my aristocratic friends. Coming straight
from the cushioned refinement of Beacon Street, where the maid who
brought my hostess her slippers spoke in softer accents than the
finest people on Dover Street, I sometimes stumbled over poor Mr.
Casey lying asleep in the corridor; and the shock of the contrast was
like a searchlight turned suddenly on my life, and I pondered over the
revelation, and wrote touching poems, in which I figured as a heroine
of two worlds.

I might quote from my journals and poems, and build up the picture of
that double life. I might rehearse the names of the gracious friends
who admitted me to their tables, although I came direct from the
reeking slums. I might enumerate the priceless gifts they showered on
me; gifts bought not with gold but with love. It would be a pleasant
task to recall the high things that passed in the gilded drawing-rooms
over the afternoon tea. It would add a splendor to my simple narrative
to weave in the portraits of the distinguished men and women who
busied themselves with the humble fortunes of a school-girl. And
finally, it would relieve my heart of a burden of gratitude to
publish, once for all, the amount of my indebtedness to the devoted
friends who took me by the hand when I wa