Thus urged, Mrs. Turner consented to relinquish her boarders, and to move into a small house, at a rent very considerably reduced.

Many articles of furniture they were obliged to dispose of, and this added to their little fund some five hundred dollars.  About two months after they were fairly settled, Mary said to her mother—­

“I’ve been thinking a good deal lately, mother, about getting into something that would bring us in a living.”

“Well, child, what conclusion have you come to?”

“You don’t like the idea of setting up a little store?”

“No, Mary, it is too exposing.”

“Nor of keeping a school?”

“No.”

“Well, what do you think of my learning the dress-making business?”

“Nonsense, Mary!”

“But, mother, I could learn in six months, and then we could set up the business, and I am sure we could do well.  Almost every one who sets up dress-making, gets along.”

“There was always something low to me in the idea of a milliner or mantua maker, and I cannot bear the thought of your being one,” Mrs. Turner replied, in a decided tone.

“You know what Pope says, mother—­

  ’Honor and shame from no condition rise;
  Act well your part, there all the honor lies.’”

“Yes, but that is poetry, child.”

“And song is but the eloquence of truth, some one has beautifully said,” responded Mary, smiling.

The mother was silent, and Mary, whose mind had never imbibed, fully, her mother’s false notions, continued—­

“I am sure there can be no wrong in my making dresses.  Some one must make them, and it is the end we have in view, it seems to me, that determines the character of an action.  If I, for the sake of procuring an honest living for my mother, my little brothers, and myself, am willing to devote my time to dress-making, instead of sitting in idleness, and suffering James and Willie to be put out among strangers, then the calling is to me honorable.  My aim is honorable, and the means are honest.  Is it not so, mother?”

“Yes, I suppose it is so.  But then there was always something so degrading to me in the idea of being nothing but a dress-maker!”

Just at that moment a young man, named Martin, who had lived with them during the last year of their experiment in keeping boarders, called in to see them.  He kept a store in the city, and was reputed to be well off.  He had uniformly manifested an interest in Mrs. Turner and her family, and was much liked by them.  After he was seated.  Mrs. Turner said to him—­

“I am trying, Mr. Martin, to beat a strange notion out of Mary’s head.  She has been endeavouring to persuade me to let her learn the dress-making business.”

The young man seemed a little surprised at this communication, and Mary evinced a momentary confusion when it was made.  He said, however, very promptly and pleasantly, turning to Mary—­