distasteful to Berenice that she oftened turned her face away, blushing
with embarrassment at having listened to it. Yet such was the gentleness
of her spirit, that she never wounded their feelings by letting them see
that she distrusted the sincerity of these hyperbolical phrases.

"Poor souls," she said to herself, "it is the best they have to offer
me, and I will take it as if it were genuine."

Berenice was right in her estimate of their flattery. Astonished at her
lavish generosity, and ignorant of her great wealth, which made
alms-giving easy, her poor neighbors put their old heads together to
find out the solution of the problem. And they came to the conclusion
that this lady must have been a great sinner, whose husband had
abandoned her for some very good reason, and who was now endeavoring to
atone for her sins by a life of self-denial and benevolence. This
conclusion seemed too probable to be questioned. This verdict was
brought to the knowledge of Berenice in a curious way. Among the
recipients of her bounty was Mrs. Jones, the ladies' nurse. The old
woman had fallen into a long illness, and consequently into extreme
want. Her case came to the knowledge of Berenice, who hastened to
relieve her. When the lady had made the invalid comfortable and was
about to take leave, the latter said:

"Ah, 'charity covers a multitude of sins,' ma'am! Let us hope that all
yours may be so covered."

Berenice stared in surprise. It was not the words so much as the manner
that shocked her. And Phoebe, who had attended her mistress, scarcely
got well out of the house before her indignation burst forth in the
expletives: