"I don't know anybody but Mrs. Slade," replied Mary, "who puts out work of any consequence, and she told me the other day that she never employed any of those persons who 'had seen better days;' that somehow she couldn't drive as good a bargain with them as she could with a common person, who was ignorant of the value of their labor." "God help poor Mrs. Hall, then," exclaimed Harry, "if _all_ the sex are as heartless! _We_ must contrive some way to help her, Mary--help her to _employment_, I mean, for I know her well enough to be sure that she would accept of assistance in no other way." CHAPTER XLI. "Is this the house?" said one of two ladies, pausing before Ruth's lodgings. "I suppose so," replied the other lady; "they said it was No. 50 ---- street, but it can't be, either; Ruth Hall couldn't live in such a place as this. Just look at that red-faced Irish girl leaning out the front window on her elbows, and see those vulgar red bar-room curtains; I declare, Mary, if Ruth Hall has got down hill so far as this, _I_ can't keep up her acquaintance; just see how they stare at us here! if you choose to call you may--faugh! just smell that odor of cabbage issuing from the first entry. Come, come, Mary, take your hand off the knocker; I wouldn't be seen in that vulgar house for a kingdom." "It seems _heartless_, though," said the other lady, blushing slightly, as she gathered up her six flounces in her delicately gloved-hand; "do you remember the afternoon we rode out to their pretty country-seat, and had that delicious supper of strawberries and cream, under those old trees? and do you remember how handsome and picturesque her husband looked in that broad Panama hat, raking up the hay when the thunder-shower came up? and how happy Ruth looked, and her children? 'Tis a dreadful change for her, I declare; if it were me, I believe I should cut my throat." "That is probably just what her relatives would like to have her do," replied Mary, laughing; "they are as much mortified at her being here, as you and I are to be seen in such a quarter of the city." "Why don't they provide for her, then," said the other lady, "at least till she can turn round? that youngest child is only a baby yet." "Oh, that's _their_ affair," answered Mary, "don't bother about it. Hyacinth has just married a rich, fashionable wife, and of course he cannot lose caste by associating with Ruth now; you cannot blame him." "Well, that don't prevent him from _helping_ her, does it?"