"A slow fever. This is the first time I have been out for weeks."
"A ride, then, will be of use to you. Get up, and let me drive you out into the country. The pure air will benefit you, I am sure."
For a moment or two, Alfred stood irresolute. He could not believe that he had heard aright.
"Come," urged Williams. "We have often ridden before, and let us have one more ride, if we should never go out again together. I wish to have some talk with you."
Thus urged, Alfred, with the assistance of Charles Williams, got up into the light wagon, in which the latter was riding, and in a moment after was dashing off with him behind a spirited horse.
It was on the morning of a day, nearly a week previous to this time,
that Mary Williams, or rather Mrs. Harwood,—for Anna and Mary
Graham's old friend had become a married woman—entered the store of
Mrs.—on Chestnut-street, for the purchase of some goods.
While one of the girls in attendance was waiting upon her, she observed a young woman, neatly, but poorly clad, whom she had often seen there before, come in, and go back to the far end of the store. In a little while, Mrs.—joined her, and received from her a small package, handing her some money in return, when the young woman retired, and walked quickly away. This very operation Mrs. Harwood had several times seen repeated before, and each time she had felt much interested in the timid and retiring stranger, a glance at whose face she had never been able to gain.
"Who is that young woman?" she asked of the individual in attendance.
"She's a poor girl, that Mrs.—buys fine work from, out of mere charity, she says."
"Do you know her name?"