Come all the praises that I now bestow), He is complete in feature and in mind, With all good grace to grace a gentleman. --Shakspere. Lotte Clinton, returning home to her apartment with some fresh work from the persons who employed her, arrived near to her abode at the culminating point of a great disturbance in the immediate vicinity. With some alarm, she learned that the uproar had commenced in the house in which she resided, and that some low man had grievously maltreated a gentleman, who had been taken to the hospital, while his assailant, aided by a large proportion of the mob--who, it appeared, had espoused his cause--had escaped. On entering the house, she found the lodgers and the landlady assembled in solemn conclave; and the moment they perceived her, they called upon her for an explanation of such “goings on” in her apartment--a demand she heard with astonishment, and with which she was utterly unable to comply. Regarding those who addressed her with an affrighted look, she made no reply, but ran upstairs, entered her apartment, and turned the key, for a variety of strange thoughts, connected with Helen, ran through her mind. She was not surprised to find her pale and motionless, tears still clinging to her pallid cheeks. She threw down the parcel she had brought home with her, and at once applied some simple restoratives to her senseless companion; but it was not until a long and patient perseverance had been exercised that she was rewarded with the signs of returning animation. When Helen had so far recovered as to be able to speak, and to recollect what had passed, she threw herself into Lotte’s arms, and told her all. Then followed passionate pleadings and supplications to the humble work-girl to quit her present place of abode, and move to another more obscure and secluded, where they were not likely to be tracked nor disturbed--where not even Lotte’s own brother should, for a time, know how to find them. Lotte, as she listened to Helen’s urgent appeals, gazed round her neat little room--at her bird, her flowers--all that made it so cheerful, and ministered so much to her happiness. She thought of the brief but delicious visits of her brother; and there were latent impressions, too--most agreeable even to contemplate--of probable morning calls to be made by Mr. Mark Wilton. These anticipated and other actual pleasures she must sacrifice, if she complied with the wish of Helen. Nay, more, she felt that a sudden departure and secret mode of living must fling her own fair character under the shadow of suspicion.