children, made her feel more discouraged than she had ever yet felt.
It seemed to her as if even Heaven had ceased to regard her--or that
she was one doomed to be the sport of cruel and malignant powers.
She had been home for only a short time, when Dr. R--came in. After
inquiring about her health, and if the children were still free from
any symptoms of the terrible disease that had carried off their
sister, he said--

"I've been thinking about you a good deal in the last day or two,
Mrs. Gaston, and have now called to have some talk with you. You
work for the stores, I believe?"

"Yes, sir."

"What kind of work do you do?"

"Here are some common shirts, which I have just brought home."

"Well, how much do you get for them?"

"Seven cents, sir."

"_Seven cents_! How many of them can you make in a day?"

"Two are as many as I shall be able to get through with, and attend
to my children; and even then I must work half the night. If I had
nothing to do but sit down and sew all the while, I might make three
of them."

"Shameful! Shameful! And is that the price paid for such work?"