"You needn't look surprised. I'm in earnest. I never had much faith
in Mrs. Harding, at the best."

"I _am_ surprised. If there was no poor widow in the case, what did
she want with charity?"

"She has poor relations of her own, for whom, I suppose, she's
ashamed to beg. So you see my meaning now."

"You surely wrong her."

"Don't believe a word of it. At any rate, take my advice, and be the
almoner of your own bounty. When Mrs. Harding comes again, ask her
the name of this poor widow, and where she resides. If she gives you
a name and residence, go and see for yourself."

"I will act on your suggestion," said Mrs. Miller. "Though I can
hardly make up my mind to think so meanly of Mrs. Harding; still,
from the impression your words produce, I deem it only prudent to
be, as you term it, the almoner of my own bounty."

The next lady upon whom Mrs. Harding called, was a Mrs. Johns, and
in her mind she succeeded in also awakening an interest for the poor
widow.

"Call and see me to-morrow," said Mrs. Johns, "and I'll have
something for you."

Not long after Mrs. Harding's departure, Mrs. Little called, in her
round of gossipping visits, and to her Mrs. Johns mentioned the case