such an act. Yes, I heard of it a few days ago as a great secret, and have not mentioned it to any one before."

"Secret! it is no secret. It is in every one's mouth."

"Is it possible? I must say that Mrs. Grimes has been very indiscreet."

"Mrs. Grimes! Did it come from her in the first place?" "Yes. She told me that she was present when the lawn came home, and saw Mrs. Comegys measure it, and heard her say that she meant to keep it."

"Which she has done. For I saw her in the street, yes❤ terday, with a beautiful new lawn dress; and her little Julia was with her, wearing one precisely like it."

"How any lady can do so is more than I can understand." "So it is, Mrs. Raynor. Just to think of dressing your child up in a frock as good as stolen ! Is it not dreadful?" "It is, indeed!"

"Mrs. Comegys is not an honest woman. That is clear. I am told that this is not the first act of the kind of which she has been guilty."

"I can hardly believe that."

"Nor can I. But it is no harder to believe this, than to believe that she would cheat Perkins out of fifteen or twenty yards of lawn. It is a pity; for Mrs. Comegys, in everything else, is certainly a very nice woman. In fact, I do not know any one I visit with so much pleasure."

Thus the circle of detraction widened, until there was scarcely a friend or acquaintance of Mrs. Comegys, near or remote, who had not heard of her having cheated a dealer out of several yards of lawn. Three, it had first been alleged; but the most common version of the story made it fifteen or twenty. Meantime, Mrs. Comegys remained in entire ignorance of what was alleged against her, although she noticed in two or three of her acquaintances a trifling coldness, that struck her as rather singular.

One day her husband, seeing that she looked grave, said— "You seem quite dull to-day, dear. Do you not feel well?"

"Yes, I feel as well as usual, in body."

"But not in mind?"

"I do not feel quite comfortable in mind, certainly, though I do not know that I have any serious cause of uneasiness."

“But if even a slight cause exists, may I ask what it is?”

"It is nothing more nor less than that I was coolly cut by an old friend to-day, whom I met in a shop on Chestnut Street; and as she is a woman that I highly esteem, both for the excellence of her character and her agreeable qualities as a friend, I cannot but feel a little hurt about it. If she were one of that capricious class who get offended with you once a-month, for no just cause whatever, I should not care a fig. But Mrs. Markle is a woman of character, good sense, and good feeling, whose friendship I have always prized."

"Was it Mrs. Markle?" said the husband, with some surprise.

"Yes."

"What can possibly be the cause?"

"I cannot tell.”

"Have you thought over everything?"

“Yes, I have turned the matter over in my mind, but can imagine no reason why she, of all others, could treat me coolly."

"Have you never spoken of her in a way to have your words misinterpreted by some evil-minded person-Mrs. Grimes, for instance-whose memory or moral sense, one or the other, is so very dull?”

"I have never spoken of her to any one, except in terms of praise. I could not do otherwise, for I have hitherto looked upon her as one of the most faultless women I know."

"She has at least shown that she possesses one fault." "What is that?"

"If she has heard anything against you of a character so serious as to make her wish to give up your acquaintance, she should at least have afforded you the chance of defending yourself before condemning you."

"I think that myself."

"It may be that she did not see you," Mr. Comegys suggested.

"She looked me in the face, and nodded with cold formality."

"Perhaps her mind was abstracted."

"It might have been so. Mine would have been very abstracted indeed, to keep me from a more cordial recognition of a friend."

"How would it do to call and see her?"

"I have been thinking of that. But my feelings naturally oppose it. I am not conscious of having done anything to merit a withdrawal of the friendly sentiments she has held towards me; if she wishes to withdraw them, my pride says, let her do so."

"But pride, you know, is not always the best adviser." "No. Perhaps the less regard we pay to its promptings the better."

"I think so."

"It is rather awkward to go to a person and ask why you have been treated coldly."

"I know it is. But in a choice of evils, is it not always wisest to choose the least?"

"But is any one's bad opinion of you, if it be not correctly formed, an evil?"

"Certainly it is."

"I do not know. I have a kind of independence about me which says, 'Let people think what they please, so long as you are conscious of no wrong."

"Indifference to the world's good or bad opinion is all very well," replied the husband, "if the world will misjudge us. Still, as anything that prejudices the minds of people against us tends to destroy our usefulness, it is our duty to take all proper care of our reputations, even to the sacrifice of a little feeling in doing so."

Thus argued with by her husband, Mrs. Comegys, after turning the matter over in her mind, finally concluded to go and see Mrs. Markle. It was a hard trial for her, but urged

on by a sense of right, she called upon her two or three days after having been treated so coldly. She sent up her name by the servant. In about five minutes, Mrs. Markle descended to the parlour, where her visiter was awaiting her, and met her in a reserved and formal manner, that was altogether unlike her former cordiality. It was as much as Mrs. Comegys could do to keep from retiring instantly, and without a word, from the house. But she compelled herself to go through with what she had begun. Mrs. Markle did, indeed, offer her hand, or rather the tips of her fingers; which Mrs. Comegys, in mere reciprocation of the formality, accepted. Then came an embarrassing pause, after which the latter said

"I see that I was not mistaken in supposing that there was a marked coldness in your manner at our last meeting."

Mrs. Markle inclined her head slightly.

"Of course there is a cause for this. May I, in justice to myself as well as others, inquire what it is?"

"I did not suppose you would press an inquiry on the subject," replied Mrs. Markle. "But as you have done so, you are, of course, entitled to an answer."

There came another pause, after which, with a disturbed voice, Mrs. Markle said

"For some time I have heard a rumour in regard to you, that I could not credit. Of late it has been so often repeated, that I felt it to be my duty to ascertain its truth or falsehood. On tracing, with some labour, the report to its origin, I am grieved to find that it is too true."

"Will you be so kind as state what it is," said Mrs. Comegys, in a firm voice.

"It is said that you bought a dress at a warehouse in this city, and that on its being sent home, there proved to be some yards more in the piece of goods than you paid for; and that, instead of returning what was not your own, you kept it and had it made up for one of your children."

The face of Mrs. Comegys instantly became like crimson; and she turned her head away to hide the confusion into

which this unexpected allegation had thrown her. As soon as she could command her voice, she said

"You will, of course, give me the author of this charge." "You are entitled to know, I suppose," replied Mrs. Markle. "The person who originated this report is Mrs. Grimes. She states that she was present when the dress was sent home; that you measured it in her presence, and that, finding there were several yards over, you declared your intention to keep it and make of it a frock for your little girl. And, moreover, that she saw Julia wearing a frock afterwards, exactly like the pattern of the one you had, which she well remembers. This seems conclusive evidence; at least it was so to my mind, and I acted accordingly."

Mrs. Comegys sat for the full space of a minute with her eyes upon the floor, without speaking. When she looked up, the flush that had covered her face had gone. It was very pale instead. Rising from her chair, she bowed formally, and without saying a word, withdrew.

"Ah me! Is it not sad?" murmured Mrs. Markle, as she heard the street door close upon her visiter. "So much that is agreeable and excellent, all dimmed by the want of principle. It seems hardly credible that a lady, with everything she needs, could act dishonestly for so small a matter. A few yards of lawn against integrity and character! What a price to set upon virtue!"

Not more than half an hour after the departure of Mrs. Comegys, Mrs. Grimes called in to see Mrs. Markle.

"I hope," she said, shortly after she was seated, "that you will not say a word about what I told you a few days ago; I should not have opened my lips on the subject if you had not asked me about it. I only mentioned it, in the first place, to a friend in whom I had the greatest confidence in the world. She has told some one, very improperly, for it was imparted to her as a secret, and in that way it has been spread abroad. I regret it exceedingly, for I would be the last person in the world to say a word to injure any one. I am particularly guarded in this."

"If it is the truth, Mrs. Grimes, I do not see that you