me over to
complain of somebody's ill treatment."

Here Salemina entered, looking flushed and embarrassed. We thought it a
bad sign that she could not meet our eyes without confusion, but I made
room for her on the sofa, and Francesca drew her chair closer.

"She is from Salem," began the poor dear; "she has never been out of
Massachusetts in her life."

"Unfortunate girl!" exclaimed Francesca, adding prudently, as she saw
Salemina's rising colour, "though of course if one has to reside in a
single state, Massachusetts offers more compensations than any other."

"She knows every nook and corner in the place," continued Salemina;
"she has even seen the house where I was born, and her name is Benella
Dusenberry."

"Impossible!" cried Francesca. "Dusenberry is unlikely enough, but
who ever heard of such a name as Benella! It sounds like a flavouring
extract."

"She came over to see the world, she says."

"Oh! then she has money?"

"No--or at least, yes; or at least she had enough when she left America
to last for two or three months, or until she could earn something."

"Of course she left her little all in a chamois-skin bag under her
pillow on the steamer," suggested Francesca.

"That is precisely what she did," Salemina replied, with a pale smile.
"However, she was so ill in the steerage that she had to pay twenty-five
or thirty dollars extra to go into the second cabin, and this naturally
reduced the amount of her savings, though it makes no difference since
she left them all behind her, save a few dollars in her purse. She says
she is usually perfectly well, but that she was very tired when she
started, that it was her first sea-voyage, and the passage was unusually
rough."

"Where is she going?"

"I don't know; I mean she doesn't know. Her maternal grandmother was
born in Trim, near Tara, in Meath, but she does not think she has any
relations over here. She is entirely alone in the world, and that gives
her a certain sentiment in regard to Ireland, which she heard a great
deal about when she was a child. The maternal grandmother must have gone
to Salem at a very early age, as Benella herself savours only of New
England soil."

"Has she any trade, or is she trained to do anything whatsoever?" asked
Francesca.

"No, she hoped to take some position of 'trust.' She does not care at
all what it is, so long as the occupation is 'interestin' work,' she
says. That is rather vague, of course, but she speaks