"Pray, Margaret! what on earth can be the matter? Why, you frightened me nearly to death, girl. What on earth is it?"
"Ellen, do just come here. There is something in this paper that is just too awful for anything."
"Let me see it," said Ellen, running to where Margaret stood. "Is somebody dead?" she asked in anxious tones.
"Worse than that," said Margaret.
"I don't see anything, Margaret," said Ellen, scanning the paper with the haste born of eagerness and excitement.
"Look up there at the top of the column headed, 'Situations wanted,' at the very first advertisement. Oh Ellen, it is just dreadful," said Margaret, as though her heart was about to break.
Ellen read the piece pointed out to her. The paper fell from her hand, and without saying a word, she staggered backwards until she reached the porch to the dining room from which she had come. She dropped down upon the floor of the porch in a sitting posture, as though what she had read had robbed her of all strength, and had shattered her nervous system. Finally, drawing a long breath, she said:
"Well, well, well, did you ever! But I always did tell you that Erma Wysong would come to some bad end. And just think! you used to like her so well, too."
"Yes, I did, Ellen. But I am done now. Just think! she was the head of our class when we were graduated at the High School, and thus she brings disgrace upon our entire class. Ah, me! It is just too dreadful to think about. It has actually made me sick. I really fear that I shall have to go to bed from the shock," remarked Margaret.
"I don't feel like eating another mouthful of breakfast," said Ellen. "But it may be that it is not our Erma," she continued.