t, of course, if your young lady lives in
Grand Rapids, she can't be my little girl--I should say, the young woman
I saw here in New York City. But if they were one and the same, they
couldn't look more alike. The only difference I can see, is that the
original of your picture is evidently a prosperous 'little sister of the
rich,' and the original of mine--the one I've carried in my mind--is a
breadwinner. She was employed in an office where I had occasion to go
one day on business. The next time I happened to drop in there--a few
days later--she was gone. I was sorry. That office was no place for her,
but I would have been glad to find her there, that I might have placed
her somewhere else, in a safer, better position. I hope she has come to
no harm."

Martha hung fire a moment. Then, suddenly, her chin went up, as with the
impulse of a new resolve.

"I'll be open an' aboveboard with you, sir," she said candidly. "The
world is certaintly small, an' the way things happen is a caution. Now,
who'd ever have thought that you'd 'a' seen my Miss Claire, but I truly
believe you have. For after her father died she come to New York, the
poor lamb! for to seek her fortune, an' her as innercent an'
unsuspectin' as my Sabina, who's only three this minit. She tried her
hand at a lot o' things, an' thank God an' her garden-angel for keepin'
her from harm, for as delicate an' pretty as she is, she can't _help_
attractin' attention, an' you know what notions some as calls themselves
gen'lemen has, in this town. Well, Miss Claire is livin' under my roof,
an' you can betcher life I'm on the job--relievin' her garden-angel o'
the pertectin' end o' the business. But Miss Claire's that proud an'
inderpendent-like she ain't contented to be idle. She's bound to make
her own livin', which, she says, it's everybody's dooty to do, some ways
or other. So my eye's out, as you might say, for a place where she can
teach, like she's qualified to do. Did I tell you, she's a college lady,
an' has what she calls a 'degree,' which I didn't know before anythin'
but Masons like himself had 'em.

"You oughter see how my boy Sammy gets his lessons, after she's learned
'em to him. She's a wizard at managin' boys. My Sammy useter to be up to
all sorts o' mischief. They was a time he took to playin' hookey. He'd
march off mornin's with his sisters, bold as brass, an' when lunchtime
come, in he'd prance, same as them, an' nobody ever doubtin' he hadn't
been