innocent reply.

"No, but that won't do, Lizzy. We must have the name and place of
residence of every man, woman, and child who work for us. It is our
rule, and we never depart from it."

There was another brief period of irresolution, and then the place
of abode was given. This was first entered, with her name, in a
book, and then the three shirts were handed over. The seamstress
turned away on receiving them, and walked quickly from the shop.

The appearance of this young applicant for work would have appealed
instantly to the sympathies of any one but a regular slop-shop man,
who looked only to his own profits, and cared not a fig whose
heart-drops cemented the stones of his building. She was tall and
slender, with light brown hair, clear soft complexion, and eyes of a
mild hazel. But her cheeks were sunken, though slightly flushed, and
her eyes lay far back in their sockets. Her forehead was high and
very white. The tones of her voice, which was low, were soft and
musical, and her words were spoken, few though they were, with a
taste and appropriateness that showed her to be one who had moved in
a circle of refinement and intelligence. As to her garments, they
were old, and far too thin for the season. A light, faded shawl, of
costly material, was drawn closely around her shoulders, but had not
the power to keep from her attenuated frame the chill air, or to
turn off the fine penetrating rain that came with the wind,
searchingly from-the bleak north-east. Her dress, of summer calico,
much worn, clung closely to her body. Above all was a close bonnet,
and a thick vail, which she drew around her face as she stepped into
the street and glided hurriedly away.