"Oh! he will go at large like other villains," replied the woman. "The world is full of them, and they sit in high places. It is very strange that all men take so much interest, and feel so much compassion for a rich man that falls into poverty; while a world more misery may come upon a humble household without drawing a tear beyond the four walls of their own cottage." "There is some truth in what you say," replied her companion, thoughtfully; "but yet, the fall from high to low is deeper than from low to lower: the contrast more painful. I should think, too, that you would much regret this misfortune to Mr. Tracy's family, as thousands of others, in a far inferior position to himself, in point of fortune, will mourn over it. Can you tell me a family who were more kind to all around them? Can you tell me a rich man whose wealth was more liberally shared with the poor and needy? Was any man suffered to want in his neighbourhood, if Mr. Tracy or his daughters could relieve him? Did any child lack education in his neighbourhood from the parents' poverty? Was he harsh even to those for whom the laws are harsh? Even your own child: did not these two young ladies, who now, perhaps, are weeping over their own and their father's ruin, show themselves kind, and tender, and generous to him?" "I am wrong, I am wrong, Chandos Winslow," cried the woman; "but something makes me bitter this night. I am not myself, young man, I tell you. You must come and speak with me another day, and perhaps I can do something. The man you speak of is a good man, and should be saved. Let us try to save him." "But how can that be done?" asked Chandos, sadly. "He is already ruined, it would seem." "Oh, no; no one is ruined who has not broken a father's heart, and laid him in the grave," replied Sally Stanley: "that is ruin! that is ruin! It is ruin here--and here;" and she laid her hand upon her brow, and upon her heart. "But you will come and see me, and talk to me again, and see what can be done to save him." "Why, what can you do in a matter like this?" asked her young companion. "Did I not help to save your life?" she demanded, quickly. "I may do something in this too--come back and I will tell you more. I must have time to think. To-night I have no thoughts. Will you come?" "But where shall I find you, and when?" asked Chandos. "Your abode, I fancy, is always varying; and I might seek you over the whole country without discovering you."