he sleigh-ride?" asked one of the girls,
who was getting a subscription for a famous New Year's ride.

"Judging from her dress," I said, "if she goes, we must _give_ her the
ride."

"But how will it do to leave her out?" they asked.

"She does not of course expect to be asked to ride with us," I said;
"she is evidently of a poor family."

As a sort of leader in school, my words were influential, and poor
Abby was left out. How often did I contrast my white hands and warm
gloves with the purple fingers and cheap mittens of my neighbour Abby.
How miserable I should be with such working hands and no gloves.

By-and-by I took to patronizing her. "She is really a very nice
creature, and ought to join us more in our plays," we said. So we used
to make her "one of us" in the play-ground. In fact, I began to thaw
towards her very considerably. There was something in Abby which
called out our respect.

One Saturday afternoon, as I was looking out of the window, wishing
for something to do, my mother asked me to join her in a little walk.
On went my new cloak, warm furs, and pink hat, and in a trice I was
ready. We went first to the stores, where I was very glad to be met by
several acquaintances in my handsome winter dress. At last I found my
mother turning off into less frequented thoroughfares.

"Where, mother," I asked, "in this vulgar part of the town?"

"Not vulgar, my dear," she said. "A very respectable and industrious
part of our population live here."

"Not fashionable, certainly," I added.

"And not vulgar because not fashionable, by any means," she said; for
you may be sure my false and often foolish notions were not gained
from her. She stopped before a humble-looking house, and entered the
front door.

"Where are you going?" I asked with much curiosity.

She gently opened a side door, and hesitated a moment on the
threshold.

"Caroline, come in," said a voice from within. "I am very happy to see
you."

"Pray, don't rise, dear," said my mother, going forward and
affectionately kissing a sick lady who sat in a rocking chair. "You
look better than when I saw you before. Do not exert yourself."

I was introduced, and I fancied the invalid looked at me with a sort
of admiring surprise as she took my hand and hoped I should prove
worthy of such a mother. Then, while my mother and she were talking, I
sat down and took notes with my eyes of everything in the room. It
looked beautifully neat, and the furn