act in the line of her suggestions. Her organization was of too
sensitive a character to accept the shocks and repulses that she
knew would attend, in some quarters, any such intrusion of her
individual wants. Even with all the risks upon her, she preferred to
suffer whatever might come, rather than ask for consideration.
During the two or three days that she remained with Mrs. Wykoff,
that excellent lady watched her, and ministered to her actual wants,
with all the tender solicitude of a mother; and when she left, tried
to impress upon her mind the duty of asking, wherever she might be,
for such consideration as her health required.

The Monday morning on which Mary Carson was to appear "bright and
early" at the dwelling of Mrs. Lowe, came round, but it was far from
being a bright morning. An easterly storm had set in during the
night; the rain was falling fast, and the wind driving gustily. A
chilliness crept through the frame of Miss Carson as she arose from
her bed, soon after the dull light began to creep in drearily
through the half closed shutters of her room. The air, even within
her chamber, felt cold, damp, and penetrating. From her window a
steeple clock was visible. She glanced at the face, and saw that it
was nearly seven.

"So late as that!" she exclaimed, in a tone of surprise, and
commenced dressing herself in a hurried, nervous way. By the time
she was ready to leave her room, she was exhausted by her own
excited haste.

"Mary," said a kind voice, calling to her as she was moving down
stairs, "you are not going out this morning."