It was a shop little larger than a closet, dark, dirty, and confused; and yet, I believe, Edinburgh, at that time, contained none more respectable in its particular line. Some women, apparently of the lowest rank, were searching for bargains among the trash which lay upon the counter; while others seemed waiting to add to the heap. All bore the brand of vice and wretchedness. Their squalid attire, their querulous or broken voices, their haggard and bloated countenances, filled me with dread and loathing. Having despatched my business, I was hastening to depart, when I was arrested by a voice less ungentle than the others. It spoke in a melancholy importunate half whisper; but it spoke in the accents of my native land, and I started as if at the voice of a friend. The face of the speaker was turned away from me. Her figure, too, was partly concealed by a cloak, tawdry with shreds of what had once been lace. An arm, on which the deathy skin clung to the bones, dragged rather than supported a languid infant. She seemed making a last effort to renew a melancholy pleading. 'If it were but the smallest trifle, sir,' said she. 'I tell you woman, I cannot afford it,' was the answer. 'You have had more than the gown is worth already.' 'God help me then,' said the woman, 'for I must perish;' and she turned to be gone. The light rested upon her features. Altered as they were, they could not be forgotten. 'Juliet! Miss Arnold!' I exclaimed; and the long tale of credulity and ingratitude passed across my mind in an instant. I stood gazing upon her for a moment. Sickness, want and sorrow, were written in her face. I remembered it bright with all the sportive graces of youth and gaiety. The contrast overcame me. 'Juliet! dear Juliet!' I cried, and fell upon her neck. Strong emotion long kept me silent; while she seemed overpowered by surprise. At length she recovered utterance. 'Ah, Ellen!' said she, 'you are avenged on me now.' 'Avenged! oh, Juliet!' It was then that I remembered the vengeance which I had imprecated upon her head; and it was she who was avenged! When I again raised my eyes to her face, it was crossed by a faint flush; and she looked down as if with shame upon her wretched attire. 'I am sadly changed since you saw me last, Miss Percy,' said she. I could not bear to own the horrible truth of her words. 'Let us leave this place,' said I. 'Come where you may tell me what has caused this wreck.' I offered her my arm, and, with a look of surprise, she accepted it. 'Sure,' said she, 'you must be ashamed to be seen with a person of my appearance.' 'Can you imagine,' said I, 'that appearance is in my thoughts at such a moment as this?' and vexed and chilled by this cold attention to trifles, I silently conducted her towards my home.