had for their eyes a melancholy beauty, such as it had never worn before; and they gazed upon it until every cheek was wet, and every heart oppressed.  A sale of the furniture had been advertised for that day, and already the house had been thrown open.  Several strangers had come in to make examinations before the hour of sale, and among them was a young man, who on observing the family in the parlour, instinctively withdrew; not, however before he had glanced at the picture they were all looking at so earnestly.  Aware that strangers were gathering, Mr. Morton and his family soon withdrew, each taking a last, lingering, tearful glance at the dear face looking so sweet, so calm, so innocent.

Their new home presented a painful and dreary contrast to the one from which they had just parted.  In the parlours, the floors of which were all uncarpeted there were a dozen chairs, and a table, and that was all!  Bedding barely enough for the family, with but scanty furniture, sufficed for the chambers; and the same exacting hands had narrowed down to a stinted remnant the appendages of the kitchen.

It was an hour after the closing in of evening, and the family greatly depressed in spirits, were gathered in one of the chambers, sad, gloomy, and silent, when the servant which they had retained came in and said that Mr. Wilkinson was below and wished to see Miss Constance.

“Indeed, indeed, mother, I cannot see him!” Constance said bursting into tears.  “It is cruel for him to come here so soon,” she added, after she had a little regained her self-possession.

“You can do no less than see him Constance,” her mother said.  “Do not lose that consciousness of internal truth of character which alone can sustain you in your new relations.  You are not changed, even if outward circumstances are no longer as they were.  And if Mr. Wilkinson does not regard these do not you.  Meet him my child, as you have ever met him.”

“We have only met as friends,” Constance replied, while her voice trembled in spite of her efforts to be calm.

“Then meet now as friends, and equals.  Remember, that, all that is of real worth in you remains.  Adversity cannot rob you of your true character.”

“Your mother has spoken well and wisely,” Mr. Morton said.  “If Mr. Wilkinson, whom I know to be a man of most sterling integrity of character, still wishes your society, or ours, it must not, from any foolish pride or weakness on our part, be denied.”

“Then I will see him, and try to meet him as I should, though I feel that the task will be a hard one,” Constance replied.  And her pale cheek and swimming eye, told but too well, that it would need all her efforts to maintain her self-possession.

In a few minutes she descended and met Mr. Wilkinson in the parlour.

“Pardon me,” he said advancing and taking her hand as she entered, “for so soon intruding upon you after the sad change in your condition.  But I should have been untrue to the kind feelings I bear yourself and family, had I, from a principle of false delicacy, staid away.  I trust I shall be none the less welcome now than before.”