door.

"You poor little darling!" she said, as she came up and took Mrs.
Ferrola in her arms. "You must let me come, and not mind me; for I
know all about it. I lost the dearest little baby once; and I have
never forgotten it. There! there, darling!" she said, as the little
woman broke into sobs in her arms. "Yes, yes; do cry! it will do your
little heart good."

There are people who, wherever they move, freeze the hearts of those
they touch, and chill all demonstration of feeling; and there are warm
natures, that unlock every fountain, and bid every feeling gush forth.
The reader has seen these two types in this story.

"Wife," said Mr. Van Astrachan, coming to Mrs. V. confidentially a day
or two after, "I wonder if you remember any of your French. What is a
_liaison_?"

"Really, dear," said Mrs. Van Astrachan, whose reading of late years
had been mostly confined to such memoirs as that of Mrs. Isabella
Graham, Doddridge's "Rise and Progress," and Baxter's "Saint's Rest,"
"it's a great while since I read any French. What do you want to know
for?"

"Well, there's Ben Stuyvesant was saying this morning, in Wall Street,
that there's a great deal of talk about that Mrs. Follingsbee and that
young fellow whose baby's funeral you went to. Ben says there's a
_liaison_ between her and him. I didn't ask him what 'twas; but it's
something or other with a French name that makes talk, and I don't
think it's respectable! I'm sorry that you and Rose went to her party;
but then that can't be helped now. I'm afraid this Mrs. Follingsbee is
no sort of a woman, after all."

"But, pa, I've been to call on Mrs. Ferrola, poor little afflicted
thing!" said Mrs. Van Astrachan. "I couldn't help it! You know how we
felt when little Willie died."

"Oh, certainly, Polly! call on the poor woman by all means, and do all
you can to comfort her; but, from all I can find out, that handsome
jackanapes of a husband of hers is just the poorest trash going. They
say this Follingsbee woman half supports him. The time was in New York
when such doings wouldn't be allowed; and I don't think calling things
by French names makes them a bit better. So you just be careful, and
steer as clear of her as you can."

"I will, pa, just as clear as I can; but you know Rose is a friend
of Mrs. John Seymour; and Mrs. Seymour is visiting at Mrs.
Follingsbee's."

"Her husband oughtn't to let her stay there another day," said Mr.
Van Astrachan. "It's as much a