As Eva went to get her bonnet, two important events happened. The notice of foreclosure was put in her hand by a strange young man, whose ring at the bell had drawn her to the front door, and while she was wondering what it could mean, the postman came into the yard with a letter from the establishment in which her duties lay. This letter curtly dismissed her from the situation, which was forfeited, the proprietor said, by her impertinence to Miss Spicer, a young lady who had been a most valuable customer, and had personally entered a complaint against her. Carrying the two documents in her hand, Eva went back to the parlor with tears in her eyes and a throb of bitter pain at her heart. “Dear me, how white you look! What is the matter?” questioned Mrs. Carter, lifting herself from the easy-chair, and laying her hand on Eva’s arm. “What is there in them papers that makes you shiver so?” Eva turned her heavy eyes upon the kind-hearted questioner. “The letter is for me,” she said. “I’ve lost my place.” “Lost your place? Well, I’m glad of it!” “That is nothing. Other establishments exist; but this—this cruel slip of paper is terrible. I think—I fear it will turn us all out of doors! Oh, my poor mother! How will she bear it? After all that has been put upon her, I would rather place a serpent in her hand than this.” “Let me look at it before you do that,” said Mrs. Carter, resolutely. “I understand these things better than any of you.” Without waiting for a reply, she took the paper, and read it with an eager, cheerful look, which went to Eva’s heart. “It is easy,” she thought, “for the rich to look on such things as trifles; but for us! She cannot understand how terrible it is for us!” “How much does all this amount to?” inquired Mrs. Carter, with prompt energy. “Does any one know?” “Indeed! indeed! we all know too well. Every cent, as it ran up, has been counted over and over again,” said gentle Ruth. “As to the interest, I have something toward that, and might have earned more and more, if they would only have given me time; but now——” The poor girl stopped short; tears were crowding on her speech with such bitter force, that she clasped both hands over her face, and sobbed aloud. “There! there! None of that! It is all nonsense, you know. What is the amount? That is the question before the American people.” Eva, with her eyes seeking the floor, told the sum, in a shrill whisper; for now, when the amount was demanded, it seemed enormous, and her lips gave it forth with a spasm. This miserable sound had scarcely left her throat, when the little parlor was filled with mellow laughter, which seemed to mock and overpower Ruthy’s sobs, and her sister’s anguish. “What, only that!” “Only that!” exclaimed Eva, kindling with astonishment. “It is more than enough to turn us all out of house and home!” “But, my child, the lots are worth three times the money. You have no idea how property has risen since the war.”