ent in the North his feelings had been
ruffled, by the sneering remarks of some of his former friends upon the
singularity of his domestic position; but his irritation had all fled
before the smiles of content and happiness that beamed from the faces of
his wife and children.

Mrs. Garie had nothing left to wish for; she was surrounded by every
physical comfort and in the enjoyment of frequent intercourse with
intelligent and refined people, and had been greatly attracted toward
Esther Ellis with whom she had become very intimate.

One morning in November, these two were in the elegant little bed-room of
Mrs. Garie, where a fire had been kindled, as the weather was growing very
chilly and disagreeable. "It begins to look quite like autumn," said Mrs.
Garie, rising and looking out of the window. "The chrysanthemums are
drooping and withered, and the dry leaves are whirling and skimming through
the air. I wonder," she continued, "if the children were well wrapped up
this morning?"

"Oh, yes; I met them at the corner, on their way to school, looking as warm
and rosy as possible. What beautiful children they are! Little Em has
completely won my heart; it really seems a pity for her to be put on the
shelf, as she must be soon."

"How--what do you mean?" asked Mrs. Garie.

"Oh, this will explain," archly rejoined Esther, as she held up to view one
of the tiny lace trimmed frocks that she was making in anticipation of the
event that has been previously hinted.

Mrs. Garie laughed, and turned to look out of the window again.

"Do you know I found little Lizzy Stevens, your neighbour's daughter,
shivering upon the steps in a neighbouring street, fairly blue with cold?
She was waiting there for Clarence and Em. I endeavoured to persuade her to
go on without them, but she would not. From what I could understand, she
waits for them there every day."

"Her mother cannot be aware of it, then; for she has forbidden her children
to associate with mine," rejoined Mrs. Garie. "I wonder she permits her
little girl to go to the same school. I don't think she knows it, or it is
very likely she would take her away."

"Has she ever spoken to you since the night of her visit?" asked Esther.

"Never! I have seen her a great many times since; she never speaks, nor do
I. There she goes now. That," continued Mrs. Garie, with a smile, "is
another illustration of the truthfulness of the old adage, 'Talk of--well,
I won't say who,--'and he