you," said Helen.

"I thank you, dear Helen, but I really do not require the least
assistance. The sum my uncle left me, added to what I shall earn, will
support me nicely," she replied.

"Earn! how? Shall you take in sewing?" screamed Helen.

"No. I have rented a nice room from my old friend Mrs. Tabb, who keeps
the trimming store, and she has engaged to sell all the fancy knitting
I can do. I am very well provided for, you perceive."

"I perceive nothing of the kind. It is positively ridiculous and
disgraceful. What will the world say?" exclaimed Helen.

"The world, dear Helen! What business has the world with me? I owe it
nothing but its just tribute of good citizenship. Oh, Helen! the world
can soothe no pang when sorrow comes;--it can bring us no peace when
death touches our hearts with his inexorable hand. No, no; there are
no interests in common between the world and me."

"Gracious! what a fanatic!" said Helen, keeping down the wrestling and
struggling of her heart; and, with a careless air, throwing back the
long, bright curls, from her faultless face. "But listen to reason,
May. You have been unfairly dealt with. I cannot reconcile the thing
to either my pride or conscience. Walter feels as I do; and I can tell
you we are extremely anxious to have you become an inmate of our
family--to be in it, like myself, and feel free to act, and think, as
you please. I can assure you, Walter has a prodigiously high opinion
of you."