tself out of the long strand of
yarn. Mrs. Blake finding me anxious to be helpful to her poor neighbors,
began unfolding histories from time to time, as I sat in her tidy
kitchen, that to me seemed to rise to the dignity of tragedies. Sometimes
I begged to accompany her to these sorrowful homes. The patience under
overwhelming sorrow that I saw at times, gave me new glimpses into the
possibilities of human endurance, and my sympathies were so wrought upon,
I set about trying to earn money myself to help alleviate their wants,
while a new field of work stretched out before me in bewildering
perspective; and sometimes I wished I too had a hundred hands, like a
second Briareus, that I might manufacture garments for half-clad women
and children.

CHAPTER VI.

MR. WINTHROP.

That evening, my first knitting lesson ended, on returning to Oaklands a
surprise awaited me. As I was walking briskly up the avenue towards the
house I met Hubert with Faery coming to bring me home.

"Mr. Winthrop has come, and is inquiring very particularly where you are
in hiding, and I believe my poor mother is afraid of telling him an
untruth, for she hurried me off very unceremoniously after you," Hubert
said, as he reined up Faery for a moment's conversation.

"You need have no fears for her; she would go to the stake rather than
tell a lie."

"Or betray a friend," Hubert said, with a meaning smile. "Remember Mr.
Winthrop is very fastidious about his associates. Your friend Mrs. Blake,
in his eyes, has only a bare right to exist; to presume on his
friendship, or that of his ward, would be an unpardonable sin."

"I must hasten to your mother's relief," I said, with a little scoffing
laugh. I paid very little heed just then to Hubert's remarks--later I
found he had not greatly overstated my guardian's exclusiveness. Wishing
to gain my room and make some additions to my toilet before meeting Mr.
Winthrop, I chose a side entrance, taking a circuitous path through the
shrubbery, if possible to reach the house unseen.

The door opened into a conservatory, and I had just slipped in stealthily
when I found myself face to face with a gentleman whom I knew on the
instant was my guardian. There was such an air of proprietorship about
him, as he stood calmly surveying nature's beautiful products in leaf and
bud and blossom. He glanced down at me--possibly taking me at first for
one of the maids--then looking more keenly he bowed rather distan