Lizzy Glenn, as she had called herself, entered at the moments and
heard the remark of the tailor. She glided noiselessly by Mrs.
Gaston, and stood further down the store, with both her body and
face turned partly from her, where she waited patiently for the
interview between her and Michael to terminate.

The poor, heart-crushed creature did not offer the slightest
remonstrance to this act of cruel oppression, but took the half
dollar thrown her by Michael for the two jackets with an air of meek
resignation. She half turned to go away after doing so, but a
thought of her two remaining children caused her to hesitate.

"Have'n't you some more trowsers to give out?" she asked, turning
again toward Michael.

The sound of her voice reached the ear of the young female who had
just entered, causing her to start, and look for an instant toward
the speaker. But she slowly resumed her former position with a sigh,
after satisfying herself by a single glance at the woman, whose
voice had fallen upon her ear with a strange familiarity.

"We haven't any more ready, ma'am, just now."

"What have you to give out? Any thing?"

"Yes. Here are some unbleached cotton shirts, at seven cents. You
can have some of them, if you choose."

"I will take half a dozen," said Mrs. Gaston in a desponding tone.
"Any thing is better than nothing."