over all these changes from grandeur to squalor, bent down the
purple heavens with their unchanging splendour!

Ruth pressed her hot forehead against the cold glass, and
strained her aching eyes in gazing out on the lovely sky of a
winter's night. The impulse was strong upon her to snatch up a
shawl, and, wrapping it round her head, to sally forth and enjoy
the glory; and time was when that impulse would have been
instantly followed; but now, Ruth's eyes filled with tears, and
she stood quite still dreaming of the days that were gone. Some
one touched her shoulder while her thoughts were far away,
remembering past January nights, which had resembled this, and
were yet so different.

"Ruth, love," whispered a girl, who had unwillingly distinguished
herself by a long hard fit of coughing, "come and have some
supper. You don't know yet how it helps one through the night."

"One run--one blow of the fresh air would do me more good," said
Ruth.

"Not such a night as this," replied the other, shivering at the
very thought.

"And why not such a night as this, Jenny?" answered Ruth. "Oh! at
home I have many a time run up the lane all the way to the mill,
just to see the icicles hang on the great wheel; and, when I was
once out, I could hardly find in my heart to come in, even to
mother, sitting by the fire;--even to mother," she added, in a
low, melancholy tone, which had something of inexpressible