The vest proved to be of white Marseilles.  As soon as the invalid sister saw this, she said—­

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to get that done in time, Ellen; it is very particular work.  To stitch the edges well will alone take you many hours.”

“I will sit up late, and get a fair start to-night, Mary.  Then I can easily finish it in time.  You know a vest is only a day’s work for a good sewer, and I have nearly a day and a half before me.”

“Yes; but you must remember, Ellen, that you are not very fast with your needle, and are, besides, far from being well.  The work, too, is of the most particular kind, and cannot be hurried.”

“Don’t fear for me in the least, Mary.  I will do all I have engaged to do,” and the young woman, who had already arranged the cut-out garment, took a portion of it in her lap and commenced her task.

The two sisters, here introduced, were poor, in bad health, and without friends.  Mary, the older, had declined rapidly within a few months, and become so much exhausted as to be obliged to keep her bed most of the time.  The task of providing for the wants of both fell, consequently, upon Ellen.  Increased exertion was more than her delicate frame could well endure.  Daily were the vital energies of her system becoming more and more exhausted, a fact of which she was painfully conscious, and which she, with studious care, sought to conceal from Mary.

When, through loss of friends and change of circumstances, the two sisters were thrown entirely dependent upon their own exertions for a livelihood, they, with prudent forethought, immediately applied themselves to the learning of a trade in order to have the means of support.  Confinement for twelve or fourteen hours a day, sitting in one position—­a great change for them—­could not long be endured without producing ill effects on frail young creatures at best.  Mary, the older, failed first; and, at the time of which we are writing, had so far declined as to be little more than the shadow of any thing earthly.

With her own unaided hands, Ellen found it impossible to earn enough for even their most simple need.  Often Mary was without medicine, because there was no money left after food and fuel were bought.  More and more earnestly did Ellen apply herself as want came in more varied shapes; but the returns of her labour became daily less and less adequate to meet the demands of nature.

The busy season had passed, and trade was dull.  Ellen worked for only two merchant tailors, and with them she was considered an extra hand.  When business fell off, as the season approached towards mid-summer, she was the first to receive notice that no more work could be given out for the present.  With a disheartened feeling she returned home on receiving this intelligence.  Mary saw that something was wrong the moment she entered, and tenderly inquired the cause of her trouble.  On learning what it was, she endeavoured to comfort and assure her, but to little purpose.