Mary was not selfish, and the faint possibility that her sister might not be obliged to go to the poor-house, gave her comfort, though she knew that in all probability she herself must go.  After a few more words Hannah entered the cottage, but she wisely chose to keep from Ella a knowledge of her plan, which very likely might not succeed.  That night after her return home Hannah lingered for a long time about the parlor door, glancing wistfully towards her mistress, who reclined upon the sofa with her face entirely hidden by her cambric handkerchief.

“It’s most too soon, I guess,” thought Hannah, “I’ll wait till to-morrow.”

Accordingly next morning, when, as she had expected, she was told to carry her mistress’s toast and coffee to her room, she lingered for a while, and seemed so desirous of speaking that Mrs. Campbell asked what she wanted.

“Why, you see, ma’am, I was going to say a word about,—­about that youngest Howard girl.” (She dared not say Ella.) “She’s got to go to the poor-house, and it’s a pity, she’s so handsome.  Why couldn’t she come here and live?  I’ll take care of her, and ’twouldn’t be nigh so lonesome.”

At this allusion to her bereavement Mrs. Campbell burst into tears, and motioned Hannah from the room.

“I’ll keep at her till I fetch it about,” thought Hannah, as she obeyed the lady’s order.  But further persuasion from her was rendered unnecessary, for Mrs. Lincoln, whom we have once before mentioned, called that afternoon, and after assuring her friend that she never before saw one who was so terribly afflicted, or who stood so much in need of sympathy, she casually mentioned the Howards, and the extreme poverty to which they were reduced.  This reminded Mrs. Campbell of Hannah’s suggestion, which she repeated to her visitor, who answered, “It would unquestionably be a good idea to take her, for she is large enough to be useful in the kitchen in various ways.”

Mrs. Campbell, who had more of real kindness in her nature than Mrs. Lincoln, replied, “If I take her, I shall treat her as my own, for they say she looks like her, and her name, too, is the same.”

Here Mrs. Campbell commenced weeping and as Mrs. Lincoln soon took her leave, she was left alone for several hours.  At the end of that time, impelled by something she could not resist, she rang the bell and ordered Hannah to go to Mrs. Bender’s and bring Ella to her room as she wished to see how she appeared.

With the utmost care, Ella arranged her long curls, and then tying over her black dress the only white apron which she possessed, she started for Mrs. Campbell’s.  The resemblance between herself and Ella Campbell was indeed so striking, that but for the dress the mother might easily have believed it to have been her own child.  As it was, she started up when the little girl appeared, and drawing her to her side, involuntarily kissed her; then causing her to sit down by her side, she minutely examined her features, questioning her meantime concerning her mother and her home in England.  Of the latter Ella could only tell her that they lived in a city, and that her mother had once taken her to a large, handsome house in the country, which she said was her old home.