"There was always something low to me in the idea of a milliner or mantua maker, and I cannot bear the thought of your being one," Mrs. Turner replied, in a decided tone. "You know what Pope says, mother-- 'Honor and shame from no _condition_ rise; Act well your part, there all the honor lies.'" "Yes, but that is poetry, child." "And song is but the eloquence of truth, some one has beautifully said," responded Mary, smiling. The mother was silent, and Mary, whose mind had never imbibed, fully, her mother's false notions, continued-- "I am sure there can be no wrong in my making dresses. Some one must make them, and it is the end we have in view, it seems to me, that determines the character of an action. If I, for the sake of procuring an honest living for my mother, my little brothers, and myself, am willing to devote my time to dress-making, instead of sitting in idleness, and suffering James and Willie to be put out among strangers, then the calling is to me honorable. My aim is honorable, and the means are honest. Is it not so, mother?" "Yes, I suppose it is so. But then there was always something so degrading to me in the idea of being nothing but a dress-maker!" Just at that moment a young man, named Martin, who had lived with them during the last year of their experiment in keeping boarders, called in to see them. He kept a store in the city, and was reputed to be well off. He had uniformly manifested an interest in Mrs. Turner and her family, and was much liked by them. After he was seated. Mrs. Turner said to him-- "I am trying, Mr. Martin, to beat a strange notion out of Mary's head. She has been endeavouring to persuade me to let her learn the dress-making business." The young man seemed a little surprised at this communication, and Mary evinced a momentary confusion when it was made. He said, however, very promptly and pleasantly, turning to Mary-- "I suppose you have a good reason for it, Miss Mary." "I think I have, Mr. Martin," she replied, smiling. "We cannot live, and educate James and William, unless we have a regular income; and I cannot shut my eyes to the fact that what we have cannot last long--nor to another, that I am the only one in the family from whom any regular income can be expected." "And you are willing to devote yourself to incessant toil, night and day, for this purpose?" "Certainly I am," Mary replied, with a quiet, cheerful smile. "But it never will do, Mr. Martin, will it?" Mrs. Turner remarked. "Why not, Mrs. Turner?" "Because, it is not altogether respectable." "I do not see any thing disrespectable in the business; but, with Mary's motive for entering into it, something highly respectable and honorable," Mr. Martin replied, with unusual earnestness. Mrs. Turner was silenced. "And you really think of learning the business, and then setting it up?" said Mr. Martin, turning to Mary, with a manifest interest, which she felt, rather than perceived.