essed as Mr. Lawson looked up and saw a woman whom he
knew to be in most destitute circumstances, burdened with a large and
sickly family, whom she had struggled to support until her own health
was ruined.

"I have no money--not one farthing," answered John Lawson.

"No money!" reiterated the woman in surprise; "isn't it all yours, then?
isn't this garden yours, and that house, and all the grand things that
are in it yours? ay, and grand things they are--them pictures, and them
bright shinin' things in that drawing-room of yours and sure you deserve
them well, and may God preserve them long to you, for riches hasn't
hardened your heart, though there's many a one, and heaven knows the
gold turns their feelin's to iron."

"It all belongs to my son, Henry Lawson, and Mrs. Lawson, and their
children--it is all theirs;" he sighed heavily, and deep emotion was
visible in every lineament of his thin and wrinkled face.

The poor woman raised her bloodshot eyes to his face, as if she was
puzzled by his words. She saw that he was suffering, and with intuitive
delicacy, she desisted from pressing her wants, though her need was
great.

"Well, well, yer honor, many's the good penny ye have given me and the
childer, and maybe the next time I see you you'll have more change."

She was turning sadly away, when John Lawson requested her to remain,
and he made inquiries into the state of her family; the report he heard
seemed to touch him even to the forgetfulness of his own sorrows; he
bade her stop for a few moments and he would give her some relief.

He walked rapidly toward the house and proceeded to the drawing-room. It
was a large and airy apartment, and furnished with evident profusion:
the sunlight of the bright summer day, admitted partially through the
amply-draperied windows, lighted up a variety of sparkling gilding in
picture-frames, and vases, and mirrors, and cornices; but John Lawson
looked round on the gay scene with a kind of shudder; he had neither
gold, silver, nor even copper in his pocket, or in his possession.

He advanced to a lady who reclined on a rose-colored sofa, with a
fashionable novel in her hand, and, after some slight hesitation, he
addressed her, and stating the name and wants of the poor woman who had
begged for aid, he requested some money.

As he said the words "some money," his lips quivered, and a tremor ran
through his whole frame, for his thoughts were vividly picturing a
recently depar