CHAPTER I.

A lady, past the prime of life, sat, thoughtful, as twilight fell duskily
around her, in a room furnished with great elegance. That her thoughts were
far from being pleasant, the sober, even sad expression of her countenance
too clearly testified. She was dressed in deep mourning. A faint sigh
parted her lips as she looked up, on hearing the door of the apartment in
which she was sitting open. The person who entered, a tall and beautiful
girl, also in mourning, came and sat down by her side, and leaned her head,
with a pensive, troubled air, down upon her shoulder.

"We must decide upon something, Edith, and that with as little delay as
possible," said the elder of the two ladies, soon after the younger one
entered. This was said in a tone of great despondency.

"Upon what shall we decide, mother?" and the young lady raised her head
from its reclining position, and looked earnestly into the eyes of her
parent.

"We must decide to do something by which the family can be sustained. Your
father's death has left us, unfortunately and unexpectedly, as you already
know, with scarcely a thousand dollars beyond the furniture of this house,
instead of an independence which we supposed him to possess. His death was
sad and afflictive enough--more than it seemed I could bear. But to have
this added!"

The voice of the speaker sank into a low moan, and was lost in a stifled
sob.

"But what _can_ we do, mother?" asked Edith, in an earnest tone, after