He dug his hand into the pile, and took out one at random.
"You air, perhaps, the young lady who writes to know if I want a housekeeper, and encloses her carte-de-visite? No; that won't do. Is it possible you are the daughter of the Confederate general who lost his life in the cause?"
"Really, sir!"
"Then, madam, we come to the lady who"—here he read from another letter—"who was once a governess, and now is reduced to sell her last remaining garments."
"Sir!"
There was a withering scorn on the lady's lips.
"I represent a Cause, Mr. Beck. I am not a beggar for myself. My cause is the sacred one of Womanhood. You, sir, in your free and happy Republic——"
Mr. Beck bowed.
"Have seen woman partially restored to her proper place—on a level with man."
"A higher level," murmured the girl, who had far-off eyes and a sweet voice. "The higher level reached by the purer heart."