y fearless manner seemed to
reassure her, as she soon regained her customary coolness of demeanor. I
nodded cordially to the rest of the group who all seemed just then to be
gazing at me in a very helpless manner. I endeavored to comport myself as
the easy hostess dispensing the hospitalities of my home to a party of
welcome visitors; but with Mr. Winthrop watching my every movement I
found the task to do so herculean. The gardener stood watching the crowd
in a helpless way, apparently as uncertain what to do first as any of
them. I looked towards Mr. Winthrop; but he seemed deeply interested,
judging from his attitude and expression, in tying up a branch of an
overburdened pear tree; but he kept his face turned steadily towards me
all the time, I could not help observing.

"What shall I do?" I whispered to Mrs. Blake.

"Tell them to come forred and fill their baskets."

I cleared my throat, and stepping up to the gardener said: "If you will
please come now, we will fill your baskets."

At first no one moved; then a delicate, pretty looking woman, with
red-rimmed eyes and a baby in her arms came timidly forward.

"What would you like best?" I asked.

"Oh, I can't tell; they all look so good."

"We are going to send all of this that is left around to your homes in a
wagon."

"I might take some of these," she said, pointing longingly to the apples
and pears. The baby was stretching its pinched little arms out to them,
and cooing in a pitiful, suppressed way, as if it realized it and must be
on its good behavior. I took the little creature in my arms; its clothes
were clean, but so thin and poor, my heart ached, while I looked at them.
I gave it my watch, which it carried with all speed to its mouth; but a
soft, delicious pear which I picked from the very limb Mr. Winthrop had
been supporting, caused it to drop the watch indifferently.

"Don't you feel sorry for this little crumb of humanity?" I impulsively
asked, forgetting too speedily my determination not to converse with
him more than was really necessary.

"Did Madame Buhlman give you lessons in philanthropy along with drawing
and music?"

"Oh no, indeed; but I hope God has. I don't want my heart to be a rock
like"--and then I shut my mouth and with moist eyes and flushed face
turned abruptly from him.

I swallowed down my tears, but my heart was too sore to play any longer
with the baby, so I slipped it back into its mother's arms, who had got
her bask