'Jenkins can't, my dear soul.' said the other. 'He is away, he ain't in New York; and if he was he would do nothing to harm you, bless you. He and I both understand that we must keep our distance from you now--not that you're not a good sister, as you always was and always will be, but for your sake and ourselves too--only you must forgive my coming to you. I really couldn't bear it, and I knew it was all safe; it is such a time since I have seen you, and you have done such a deal in the time. Only to think, Clara, of your being a regular star, and leading lady at the Thespian.' Miss Montressor laughed a good-natured laugh, but with a peculiar sound in it, which comes of a superior knowledge of the world and a truer test of greatness than that of the speaker. 'My dear, you have got very funny notions about me. I have not done badly; but as to the great things, I have not many of them to count up, and this is the very first really big chance I have had.' 'Don't be afraid that I shall spoil it,' said Bess, laying the sleeping child comfortably in a corner of a luxurious settee, and seating herself beside Miss Montressor, with one arm placed fondly round her neck, while her honest gray eyes, full of tears, looked searchingly in the other's face. 'I would rather never see you for half my life than harm you, dear; and I suppose it would harm you, even in this country, where everybody is free and equal, they say, if you were known to have a servant for a sister?' 'A servant, Bess!' said Miss Montressor with surprise and displeasure. 'How is that? What do you mean?' 'Just what I say to you. I am a servant. I am a nurse in a very good family here in town; it is a good place, and I am happy, trusted, useful, and comfortable.' 'Nurse!' said Miss Montressor; 'is that your nurse-child, then? I thought it was your own.' 'Mine? O dear no. My baby was a poor little cripple, and he was taken away from all his troubles a little while ago. Jenkins was leaving me for a profitable job he had got, and I could not stand the loneliness; besides we were very poor, and so I took a place. It is Mrs. Griswold's, in Fifth-avenue, and I get along very well indeed. Mrs. Griswold is alone, like myself. Her husband is in Europe; and she gave me leave to come here to-day, and to bring the child, so as I might be free, as kind as possible.' 'Fifth-avenue?' said Miss Montressor; 'why, that's a fashionable part of New York. I know that much, though I have only been one night in the place. I knew it before, however. This lady must be a person of importance. My dear Bess, you didn't let out to her where you were coming to?'