The promise for a pleasant hour at home was but little more
flattering to my husband, when he returned in the evening, than it
had been at dinner time. I was still in a sombre mood.

In the morning Mrs. Partridge came early and commenced the washing.
There was something in this woman's appearance that interested me,
and something in her face that reminded me of somebody I had seen
before; but when and where I could not tell. Although her clothes
were poor and faded, there was nothing common about her, and she
struck me as being superior to her class. Several times during the
morning I had to go into the kitchen where she was at work, and each
time her appearance impressed me more and more. An emotion of pity
arose in my bosom, as I saw her bending over the washing tub, and
remembered that, for this hard labour during a whole day, the pay
was to be but seventy-five cents. And yet there was an air of meek
patience, if not contentment, in her face; while I, who had every
thing from which I ought to have derived happiness, was dissatisfied
and full of trouble. While in her presence I felt rebuked for my
complaining spirit.

At dinner time Mrs. Partridge came to my room, and with a gentle,
patient smile on her face, said--

"If you have no objections, ma'am, I would like to run home for a
few minutes to nurse my baby and give the children something to eat.
I'll make up the time."

"Go by all means," I replied, with an effort to speak calmly.