do for Mrs. Osmond, who, I expect, will call
this very day for them.

"I do not feel quite satisfied," said May; "but as it was all
_voluntary_ on her part, I suppose there's nothing very wrong in it."

"Bless you--no. She paid the value of the things, then paid for her
pride and ostentation, which is the way with _all_ worldly people, and
which, thank God, _I_ am not responsible for."

"Thank you, dear Mrs. Tabb; you are very kind to take so much trouble
for me. I must run away now. I shall knit up all my worsted this
week, so please have another package ready for me when I come again.
Good by."

"Good by, Miss May. I declare, if you don't hop about through the snow
like a robin; there--she's gone. Now, I should like to know what
business old Stillinghast's niece has to be doing such work as
this,--the nipping old miser; and I'd like to know what _she_ does with
the money."

And so should we; therefore, we will leave Mrs. Tabb to her
cogitations, follow May, and find out.

CHAPTER IV.

AUNT MABEL.

Fearing she would not have time to accomplish all that she desired, May
stepped into a jewelry establishment to ascertain the hour; but it was
only half-past twelve, and, with a light heart and fleet step, she
treaded her way through the hurrying and busy crowds, crossed B----
Street, then in the height of its din, uproar, and traffic, and soon
found herself among the dark, narrow thoroughfares, and large gloomy
warehouses of the lower part of the city. Turning a corner, she looked
up and down, but finding herself at fault, hurried into another street,
where she encountered quite a procession of merchants, old, young, and
middle-aged, on their way to the Exchange, to learn the latest European
news, which a steamer, just arrived, had brought in. Many passed her
with a glance of surprise; some laughed, and gazed into her face with
looks of insolent curiosity: while others regarded her with unconcern
and indifference. "It is strange," thought May, shrinking back into a
doorway, "I was _so_ sure of the way; but it will never do to stand
here, yet how am I to get on? Sir," she said to a benevolent-looking
old gentleman, whose white hairs and respectable appearance were a
guarantee of protection to her, "will you be so obliging as to direct
me to the wood-yard of Carter & Co. I believe I have lost my way."

"Certainly, my dear," said the old man, with a pleasant smile; "I am on
my way to the Exchange,