; the right wing is a very respectable
class in the community. The party-leader who makes his name and
influence serve him in obtaining loans which he never intends to
pay,--shall we call him a beggar? It is an ugly word. The parasite
who makes himself agreeable to dinner-givers, who calculates upon his
accomplishments as a stock in trade, intending that his brains shall
feed his stomach,--what is he, pray? It is ungracious to stigmatize
such a jolly dog. The woman whose fingers are hooped with rings won
in wagers which gallantry or folly could not decline, who is ready by
_philopaena_, or even by more direct suggestions, to lay every beau or
acquaintance under contribution,--is she a beggar, too? It is a long
way, to be sure, from the girl with scanty and draggled petticoat and
tangled hair, picking out lumps of coal from ash-heaps, or carrying home
refuse from the tables of the rich,--a long way from that squalid object
to the richly-cloaked, furred, bonneted, jewelled, flaunting lady, whose
friends are all _so_ kind.

But the most charitable must feel a certain degree of pity, if not of
scorn, for those who, like Mr. and Miss Sandford, contrive to wear the
outward semblance of respectability, boarding with fashionable people
and wearing garments _a la mode_, while they have neither fortune nor
visible occupation. Miss Sandford, to be sure, had a few pupils in
music,--young friends, who, as she averred, "insisted upon practising
with her, although she did not profess to give lessons," not she. Still
her toilet was as elegant as ever. The first appearance of a new style
of cloak, a new pattern of silk or embroidery, new ribbons, laces,
jewelry, might be observed, as she took her morning promenade. The
dealers in rich goods, elegant trifles, costly nothings, all knew her
well. Whatever satisfied her artistic taste she purchased. To see was to
desire, and, in some way, all she coveted tended by a magical attraction
to her rooms. "Society" frowned upon her; she went to no receptions in
the higher circles, but she had no lack of associates for all that.
At concerts and other public assemblages, her brilliant figure and
irreproachable costume were always to be seen,--the admiration of men,
the envy of women. Nor was she without gallants. Gentlemen flocked about
her, and seemed only too happy in her smiles; but it never happened that
their wives or sisters joined in their attentions. On fine days, as she
came out for a walk,