a hell has arisen in
her breast! Her thoughts have wandered to her country home which she has
not seen for years.--To the time when she was as pure as the young girl,
who just pronounced her marriage vows; to the mother's blessing as she
saw her young daughter depart for the great city; to the early days when
she first arrived and worked honestly for her bread; to the pride she
felt over the first money she sent home to her old mother. Her thoughts
wandered back to the time when men and women turned to look at her fresh
rosy face on the street, wondering at her beauty which partook so
largely of the wild rose and mountain daisy. Could this be the same
woman, with the hardened face and form covered with rags? It seemed so
long ago. Then came the thoughts of striving with temptation, then the
promises made and broken, of ruin and shame, then of the long illness,
of dreadful poverty, and at last she sees herself as she is, a ruined,
homeless, sin-stained creature. Oh the misery, the agony! What hell can
be greater than this! While she is still sitting there the bell begins
to toll, and soon there is a procession moving slowly up the aisle and
four young boys are carrying a little coffin. It too is covered with
white flowers, placed there by loving hands. In the coffin is a little
waxen form almost covered with the same beautiful flowers.

The clergyman who had read the marriage ceremony, is now repeating the
last sad rites for the dead. Again they take up their burden and move
slowly down the aisle. As the coffin passes the woman, one of the white
flowers drops almost at her feet. She stoops reverently and picks it up;
almost hesitatingly as if afraid her touch will soil its purity, and
placing it tenderly by the side of the bridal flower she walks slowly
from the church. Watch her move along hurriedly, till she comes to a
narrow alley and stops in front of a wretched tenement house. Entering
quickly she passes up the rickety stairs and goes into a room where
there is a little child upon a wretched bed. Sickness and poverty have
almost finished their work. The child is sleeping and the woman steals
softly to the bed side and places the white flowers on its breast Even
as she does so the little creature smiles in its sleep. Perhaps the
happy smiling face of the lovely bride has visited it in its slumber,
or the spirit of the dead babe has come with the flowers, to take the
hand of the sick child and lead it "across the river