Doctor Baldwin did not make it long before he formally visited Ella at her father's house. The more intimately he knew her, the more was he charmed with her loveliness of character, and captivated by the natural grace of her manners. There was a time, and that not very long before, when he would have smiled at the idea of visiting the daughter of a mechanic. His father had been a merchant, and, in dying, had left his family with a moderate income, that was found, with the exercise of some prudence, to be fully sufficient for their support. Baldwin had two sisters—one married, and the other, about the age of Ella, unmarried. They had been well educated, and used to the elegancies of refined society. Nearly all who are thus raised have certain false views of social life, something more or less artificial and conventional about them; and this was the case with the sisters of Dr. Baldwin, as well as with most of the young ladies he had happened to meet. Ella Hudson, with equal refinement of feeling, intelligence, and true accomplishments, was so independent in matters of right, so free from everything false, affected, or merely conventional, that he almost wondered at, while he admired her. "The best specimen of a woman I have yet seen," he said to himself, after a few familiar visits, "and if she and I don't know each other better, it shall not be my fault." And they did know each other better, and were better pleased with the acquaintance the more intimate it became. The result was an offer of marriage, which the maiden, well pleased, accepted. Doctor Baldwin was by no means sure that his family would approve his choice. In fact, he looked for objections when he announced the fact of his engagement to the daughter of a watchmaker, unless he could manage, by some means, to get them acquainted with her before they understood the relationship existing between them. This, however, was a matter not likely to occur, as their spheres of association were altogether different. As the sister of Doctor Hudson, she would stand a little higher; but then Doctor Hudson himself had not yet emerged far enough from obscurity to reflect much respectability upon his sister, especially while she, pursuing her own independent course, continued the exercise of her profession as a music teacher. One day Doctor Baldwin called with his sister to see a young lady acquaintance, who moved in fashionable circles, and who had rather more false pride, false notions, and contempt for what she was pleased to call vulgar, than usually falls to the lot of even fashionable people. While they sat chatting with her in the parlor, the street door bell rang, and the young lady said— "My music teacher, I presume." Baldwin and his sister arose. "Oh, sit still—sit still. She can wait," said the young lady. "It doesn't matter at all." "Who is your teacher?" asked Miss Baldwin. "Miss Hudson. Do you know her?" "No, I never heard of her."