Mrs. Wykoff retired, and the seamstress went on with her work. At the usual hour, Mary Carson appeared on the next morning. Living at some distance from Mrs. Wykoff's, she did not come until after breakfast. The excellent lady had thought over the incident of the day before, and was satisfied that, from lack of nutritious food at the right time, Mary's vital forces were steadily wasting, and that she would, in a very little while, destroy herself. "I will talk with her seriously about this matter," she said. "A word of admonition may save her." "You look a great deal better this morning," she remarked, as she entered the room where Mary was sewing. "I haven't felt better for a long time," was the cheerful answer. "Did you sleep well last night?" "Very well." "Any cough?" "Not of any consequence, ma'am." "How was the pain in your side?" "It troubled me a little when I first went to bed, but soon passed off." "Did you feel the old exhaustion on waking?" "I always feel weak in the morning; but it was nothing, this morning, to what it has been." "How was your appetite?" "Better. I eat an egg and a piece of toast, and they tasted good. Usually my stomach loathes food in the morning." "Has this been the case long?" "For a long time, ma'am." Mrs. Wykoff mused for a little while, and then asked-- "How do you account for the difference this morning?" Miss Carson's pale face became slightly flushed, and her eyes fell away from the questioning gaze of Mrs. Wykoff. "There is a cause for it, and it is of importance that you should know the cause. Has it been suggested to your mind?" "Yes, ma'am. To me the cause is quite apparent." They looked at each other for a few moments in silence. "My interest in you prompts these questions, Mary," said Mrs. Wykoff. "Speak to me freely, if you will, as to a friend. What made the difference?" "I think the difference is mainly due to your kindness yesterday.--To the glass of wine and biscuit when I was faint, and to the early and good dinner, when exhausted nature was crying for food. I believe, Mrs. Wykoff"--and Mary's eyes glistened--"that if you had not thought of me when you did, I should not be here to-day." "Are you serious, Mary?"