But that did not satisfy some.  Persons calling themselves mutual friends strove hard to reconcile what they were pleased to call a misunderstanding in which “both were to blame.”  But it availed not.  To their interference, Mrs. Bates usually replied—­“If it will be any satisfaction to Mrs. Tarleton to be recognized by me and treated kindly and politely in company, I will most cheerfully yield her all that; but I cannot feel towards her as heretofore, because I have been deceived in her, and find her to be governed by principles that I cannot approve.  We can never again be on terms of intimacy.”

But it was impossible to make some understand the difference between acting from principle and wounded pride.  The version given by Mrs. Tarleton was variously modified as it passed from mouth to mouth, until it made Mrs. Bates almost as much to blame as herself, and finally, as the coldness continued until all intercourse at last ceased, it was pretty generally conceded, except by a very few, that “both were about equally to blame.”

The reader can now make up his own mind on the subject from what has been related.  For our part, we do not think Mrs. Bates at all to blame in at once withdrawing herself from intimate association with such a woman as Mrs. Tarleton showed herself to be, and we consider that a false charity which would seek to interfere with or set aside the honest indignation that should always be felt in similar cases of open betrayal of confidence and violation of honest and honorable principles.

We have chosen a very simple and commonplace incident upon which to “hang a moral.”—­But it is in the ordinary pursuits of business and pleasure where the true character is most prone to exhibit itself, and we must go there if we would read the book of human life aright.

IT’S NONE OF MY BUSINESS.

“Was n’t that young Sanford?” asked Mrs. Larkin of her husband, as the two stood at a window of their dwelling one Sunday afternoon, noticing the passers by.  The individual she alluded to was a young man who had ridden gaily along on a spirited horse.

“Yes,” was the reply.

“He rides past here almost every Sunday afternoon, and often in company with Harriet Meadows.  He is quite a dashing young fellow.”

“He is dashing far beyond his ostensible means.  I wonder at Millard for keeping him in his store.  I would soon cast adrift any one of my clerks who kept a fast horse, and sported about with the gay extravagance that Sanford does.  His salary does not, I am sure, meet half his expenses.  I have heard some of my young men speak of his habits.  They say money with him is no consideration.  He spends it as freely as water.”

“Strange that his employer does not see this!”