of opera music as if haunted by some melody; "but pray send Tim out
a glass of wine, or he will freeze on the box this Greenland night."

"Nonsense! come in!" cried the mother, entering the drawing-room and
approaching the fire. Here she threw back her opera-cloak, revealing
a rich brocade dress underneath, lighted up with jewels and covered
as with a mist of fine lace! "he'll do well enough--come to the fire!"
she continued, holding out her hands in their snowy gloves for warmth.

The lady had not noticed Chester, who stood back in the hall, that
she might pass. Applicants of all kinds were so common at her
dwelling, even at late hours, that she seldom paused, even to regard
a stranger. But the noble-looking lad was far more quick-sighted.
As he turned reluctantly to close the door, Chester advanced with
the little girl in his arms, and would have passed.

"What is this?--what is the matter?--is she sick?" inquired the boy,
earnestly.

"She is a poor, homeless child, half frozen and almost famished,"
answered Chester.

"Homeless on a night like this!--hungry and cold!" exclaimed the lad,
throwing off his Spanish cloak and tossing his cap to the hall table.
"Come back, till she gets thoroughly warm, and I'll soon ransack the
kitchen for eatables; a glass of Madeira now to begin with. Lady
Mother, come and look at this little girl--it's a sin and a shame
to see anything with a soul reduced to this."

"What is it, Fred?" cried the lady, sweeping across the drawing-room;