"Golden Glenalvan," answered the girl, and the lady frowned slightly, and said it was too fanciful and pretty.
"If you are going to work for your living, I would advise you to call yourself by some plain and common name, such as Jones or Brown or Smith."
"Then I will call myself Mary Smith," replied Golden, resignedly.
"That will do very well. Now, my child, do you think you would like to undertake chambermaid's work?"
She glanced, as she spoke, at the girl's ungloved hands, and saw that they were delicately white and aristocratic, so she answered the question negatively to herself before Golden answered, shrinkingly and timidly:
"I do not believe I would like it, madam, but I am willing to try. I must do something to support myself, and I have no choice left me since I do not know how to do anything."
The lady looked at her a little wonderingly.
"My child, if you would tell me something about yourself I might know better how to help you," she said. "It is quite evident that you have met with reverses. You are unaccustomed to labor, and you look like a born lady."
Golden was silent, and a deep blush colored her face. Not for worlds would she have told her sad story to this gentle woman.