"I believe he is," replied the clerk. "Do you wish to see him, ma'am." His tone was more respectful. Even poverty can command respect at times, and the threadbare garment be looked upon with as much difference as the gorgeous silken dress. It was so at this moment. "Yes, I desire to see him," answered Mrs. Wentworth. "Be kind enough to inform Mr. Swartz that a lady has called upon him." As she used the word "lady," the clerk elevated his eyebrows, and a smile of pity stole over his features. Lady! Could the miserable looking object, who stood before him have any claim to the title. Poor woman! She knew not that the outward form of woman is the only recognized title to the term. What though the mind be filled with the loftiest sentiment, and stored with the richest lore of learning. What though the heart be purer than the snow which covers the mountain tops, can they ever claim a position among the favorites of fortune, when accompanied by beggary? Philanthropists, and philosophers tell us they can, but the demon, Prejudice, has erected a banner, which can never be pulled down, until man resumes the patriarchal life of centuries ago, and society, the mockery by which we claim civilization was built up, is removed from the earth, and mankind can mingle with each other in free and unrestricted intercourse. That day will never come. But to return to our story. The clerk looked pityingly at Mrs. Wentworth for a moment, then walked to the door of Mr. Swartz's office, and knocked. The door was opened. "There is a _lady_ here who wants to see you on private business," he said with emphasis. "Shust tell de lady I will see her in a few minutes," replied the voice of Mr. Swartz, from the interior of the room. The clerk withdrew, after closing the door, and advanced to where Mrs. Wentworth was standing. "Mr. Swartz will see you in a few moments, he said." "Go back for me, and tell him my business is urgent, and will admit of no delay," she answered. Her thoughts were of the little girl, who lay ill on the bed in the negro's cabin, and to whom she had promised to return quickly. The clerk withdrew, and announced her wishes, to his employer. "Vell," said Mr. Swartz. "Tell her to come in." She walked up to the door, and as she reached the threshold it opened and Mr. Elder, stood before her. She spoke not a word as he started from surprise at her unexpected appearance. She only gazed upon him for awhile with a calm and steady gaze. Hastily dropping his eyes to the ground, Mr. Elder recovered his usual composure, and brushing past the soldier's wife left the store, while she entered the office where Mr. Swartz was. "Oot tam," he muttered as she entered. "I shall give dat clerk te tevil for sending dis voman to me. Sum peggar I vill pet." "I have called on you again, Mr. Swartz," Mrs. Wentworth began. Mr. Swartz looked at her as if trying to remember where they had met before, but he failed to recognize her features.