all was still in the house when hattie climbed up those long and dreary stairs, for tired working girls go to sleep early and sleep soundly.

they know the day must not dawn on their closed eyes, but they must be up, wash, eat, and off to labor before the sun from its eastern up-lift gilds the city spires.

hattie entered her room, set her lamp alight, took off her things, and sat down by her bedside to think.

she took the letter from her pocket which mr. w—— had given her at the bindery, and put it down on the table, unopened, and there it lay for full a quarter of an hour, while she was lost in her meditation.

and yet men say a woman is made up of curiosity. and that is all men know about it. they can say so, but it doesn’t make it so.

at last she took up the letter, looked again at her name written in a bold, handsome hand on a business envelope of the firm, and then she broke the seal.

the color came and went in her face, showing surprise, agitation, and even pain, while she read it. that we may understand her feelings it may be as well to give the letter place here. it ran thus:

“miss hattie:—i feel embarrassed, hardly knowing how to frame words to express a desire, a hope, and a fear.

[116]

“the desire is, in all sincerity, honor, truth, and tenderness, to possess you as my wife—the holiest relationship known on earth.

“the hope is that you will listen to and reciprocate a love which i believe to be pure and unselfish—a love based on your merits rather than your transcendent beauty—a love, which, though fervent, will be, i am sure, lasting as my life.

“a fear that i am not worthy of the boon i ask—your love and hand—or, alas for me if it prove so, that young as you are, some one else has already gained the heart which i would give worlds, were they mine, to claim as my own, all my own.

“can you respond favorably to this petition? i ask no speedy answer. i will press no unwelcome suit. come and go as you always do, bringing brightness when i see you, leaving a void in my eyes, but not in my heart, as you pass out, and when you feel that you can answer me do so, confident that i shall ever love you. i shall never presume to press one word on your ear which shall bring a frown on the face so dear to me. god bless you, miss hattie, and may he turn your heart to thoughts of your sincere friend,

“e. w——.”

for a love-letter, it was a model. i say so, and i ought to know, for, young as i am, i’ve got a waste-basket half full of them.

tears started in hattie’s eyes as she carefully refolded the letter and restored it to the envelope.

“he is a true and a noble man,” she said. “a gentleman in every sense. but i cannot return his love. how can i say so and not wound his generous and sensitive nature? i must think of it—i must ask advice and aid from that unfailing source which never will bid me do wrong.”

and the pure, sweet girl knelt by her humble bed in silent prayer. then she arose, her heart lighter, her eyes bright with new inspiration.

[117]

she drew up to her table, opened a small portable writing-desk, and rapidly wrote these words:

“mr. w——:—esteemed and valued friend. the desire you express can never be gratified, because, while feeling your worth, knowing how good and truthful you are, i know in heart i cannot harbor the love which would be a just return for that which you feel and offer. it will make me very unhappy to think i sadden your bright life in any way. try to forget love in the friendship i shall ever feel so proud and happy to possess.

“with sympathy and sincerity, i am your humble friend,

“hattie butler.”

she bowed her head and wept after she had sealed and directed her letter, for she felt sorrow in her soul that her answer must pain so warm a heart.

then she knelt again in silent prayer, read, as she ever did, a chapter in the revealed word of god, and then lay down to the rest which innocence alone can enjoy—that quiet, dreamless rest which gives new life to the body and the soul.

and thus we will leave her, while for a time and for a reason we fly far away on the swift wings of fancy to a different—a far different scene.