What though the mind be filled with the loftiest sentiment, and stored with the richest lore of learning.

What though the heart be purer than the snow which covers the mountain tops, can they ever claim a position among the favorites of fortune, when accompanied by beggary?
Philanthropists, and philosophers tell us they can, but the demon, Prejudice, has erected a banner, which can never be pulled down, until man resumes the patriarchal life of centuries ago, and society, the mockery by which we claim civilization was built up, is removed from the earth, and mankind can mingle with each other in free and unrestricted intercourse.
That day will never come.
But to return to our story.

The clerk looked pityingly at Mrs.
Wentworth for a moment, then walked to the door of Mr.Swartz's office, and knocked.
The door was opened.
"There is a _lady_ here who wants to see you on private business," he said with emphasis.
"Shust tell de lady I will see her in a few minutes," replied the voice of Mr.Swartz, from the interior of the room.
The clerk withdrew, after closing the door, and advanced to where Mrs.
Wentworth was standing.
"Mr.Swartz will see you in a few moments, he said." "Go back for me, and tell him my business is urgent, and will admit of no delay," she answered.
Her thoughts were of the little girl, who lay ill on the bed in the negro's cabin, and to whom she had promised to return quickly.
The clerk withdrew, and announced her wishes, to his employer.
"Vell," said Mr.Swartz.

"Tell her to come in." She walked up to the door, and as she reached the threshold it opened and Mr.Elder, stood before her.

She spoke not a word as he started from surprise at her unexpected appearance.