“I know you can’t, Harry; and I will try and get them for you in a few days.”

The child said no more, but shrunk away with his little heart so full of disappointment, that he could not keep the tears from gushing over his face.  The mother’s heart was quite as full.  Little Harry sat down in a corner to weep in silence, and Mrs. Walton took her sewing into her hands; but the tears so blinded her eyes, that she could not see where to direct the needle.  Before she had recovered herself, there was a knock at the door, which was opened immediately afterwards by a lady, who came into the room where the poor widow sat with her little family around her.

More than an hour had passed since the unpleasant interview with the poor widow, and Mrs. Lander had not yet recovered her equanimity of mind nor lost the feelings of indignation which the attempt to impose upon her by an exorbitant charge had occasioned, when she was favoured with a visit from Mrs. Brandon, who said familiarly, and with a smile, as she entered—­

“Ah, how do you do, Mrs. Lander?  I have just corrected a mistake you made a little while ago.”

“Indeed! what is that?” asked Mrs. Lander, looking a little surprised.

“You only gave poor Mrs. Walton fifty cents apiece for the half dozen of shirts she made for you, when the lowest price is seventy-five cents.  I always pay a dollar for Mr. Brandon’s.  The difference is a very important one to her—­no less than a dollar and a half.  I found her in much trouble about it, and her little boy crying with disappointment at not getting a pair of shoes his mother had promised him as soon as she got the money for the shirts.  He has been from school for want of shoes for more than a week.  So I took out my purse and gave Mrs. Walton the dollar and a half to make up the sum she had earned, and told her I would see you about it.  I acted right, did I not?  Of course, it was a mistake on your part?”

Mrs. Lander was never more completely out-generalled in her life.  The lady who had corrected her error was one in whose good opinion she had every reason for desiring to stand high.  She could grind the face of the poor without pity or shame, but for the world she would not be thought mean by Mrs. Brandon.

“I am very much obliged to you, indeed,” she said with a bland smile.  “It was altogether a mistake on my part, and I blame the woman exceedingly for not having mentioned it at the time.  Heaven knows I am the last person in the world to grind the faces of the poor!  Yes, the very last person.  Here is the money you paid for me, and I must repeat my thanks for your prompt correction of the error.  But I cannot help feeling vexed at the woman.”

“We must make many allowances for the poor, Mrs. Lander.  They often bear a great deal of wrong without a word of complaint.  Some people take advantage of their need, and, because they are poor, make them work for the merest pittance in the world.  I know some persons, and they well off in the world, who always employ the poorest class of people, and this under the pretence of favouring them, but, in reality, that they may get their work done at a cheaper rate than it can be made by people who expect to derive from their labour a comfortable support.”