“Yes, Mary has grown up rapidly,” replied Mr. Green, evincing no particular interest in the subject of his remark.

“How is her father doing now?” asked Henry.

“Better than he did a short time ago,” was replied

“I’m glad to hear that.  Does he drink as much as ever?”

“No.  He has given up that bad habit.”

“Indeed!  Then he must be doing better.”

“He ran himself down very low,” said Mr. Green, “and was about losing every thing, when Mary, like a brave, right-minded girl, stepped forward and saved him.”

“Mary!  How did she do that, father?”

“Dyer had a mortgage of three hundred dollars on his farm, and was going to sell him out in mid-winter, when nobody who cared to befriend him had money to spare.  On the very day I heard about his trouble, Mary called on me and asked the loan of a sum sufficient to lift the mortgage.

“But how could she pay you back that sum?” asked the young man in surprise.

“I loaned her the amount she asked,” replied Mr. Green, “and she has just paid me the first promised instalment of thirty-seven dollars.”

“How did she get the money?”

“She earned it with her own hands.”

“Where?”

“In Lowell.”

“You surprise me,” said Henry.  “And so, to save her father from ruin, she has devoted her young life to toil in a factory?”

“Yes; and the effect of this self-devotion has been all that I hoped it would be.  It has reformed her father.  It has saved him in a double sense.”

“Noble girl!” exclaimed the young man, with enthusiasm.

“Yes, you may well say that, Henry,” replied Mr. Green.  “In the heart of that humble factory girl is a truly noble and womanly principle, that elevates her, in my estimation, far above any thing that rank, wealth, or social position alone can possibly give.”

“But father,” said Henry, “is it right to subject her to so severe a trial?  It will take a long, long time, for her to earn three hundred dollars.  Does not virtue like hers—­”

“I know what you would say,” interrupted Mr. Green.  “True I could cancel the obligation and derive great pleasure from doing so, but it is the conclusion of my better judgment, all things considered, that she be permitted to fill up the entire measure of her contract.  The trial will fully prove her, and bring to view the genuine gold of her character.  Moreover, it is best for her father that she should seem to be a sufferer through his intemperance.  I say seem, for, really, Mary experiences more pleasure than pain from what she is doing.  The trial is not so great as it appears.  Her reward is with her daily, and it is a rich reward.”

Henry asked no further question, but he felt more than a passing interest in what he had heard.  In the course of a week, Mary returned to Lowell and he went back to Boston.