COLLECTION OF BRITISH AUTHORS .  VOL. CCCXLIV .  RACHEL GRAY BY JULIA KAVANAGH .  IN ONE VOLUME .  RACHEL GRAY .  A TALE  FOUNDED ON FACT .  BY JULIA KAVANAGH ,  AUTHOR of " NATHALIE , " " DAISY BURNS , " " GRACE LEE .  "  COPYRIGHT EDITION .  LEIPZIG  BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ  1856  PREFACE .  This tale , as the title-page implies , is founded on fact .  Its truth is its chief merit , and the Author claims no other share in it , than that of telling it to the best of her power .  I do not mean to aver that every word is a positive and literal truth , that every incident occurred exactly as I have related it , and in no other fashion , but this I mean to say : that I have invented nothing in the character of Rachel Gray , and that the sorrows of Richard Jones are not imaginary sorrows .  My purpose in giving this story to the world is twofold .  I have found that my first , and in many respects , most imperfect work " Madeleine , " is nevertheless that which has won the greatest share of interest and sympathy ; a result which I may , I think , safely attribute to its truth , and which has induced me to believe that on similar grounds , a similar distinction might be awarded to a heroine very different indeed from " Madeleine , " but whose silent virtues have perhaps as strong a claim to admiration and respect .  I had also another purpose , and though I mention it last , it was that which mainly contributed to make me intrude on public attention ; I wished to show the intellectual , the educated , the fortunate , that minds which they are apt to slight as narrow , that lives which they pity as moving in the straight and gloomy paths of mediocrity , are often blessed and graced beyond the usual lot , with those lovely aspirations towards better deeds and immortal things , without which life is indeed a thing of little worth ; cold and dull as a sunless day .  CHAPTER I .  In one of the many little suburbs which cling to the outskirts of London , there is a silent and grass-grown street , of aspect both quiet and quaint .  The houses are crazy , old , and brown , of every height and every size ; many are untenanted .  Some years ago one was internally destroyed by fire .  It was not thought worth rebuilding .  There it still stands , gaunt and grim , looking for all the world , with its broken or dust-stained windows , like a town deserted after a sacking .  This street is surrounded by populous courts and alleys , by stirring thoroughfares , by roads full of activity and commerce ; yet somehow or other , all the noise of life , all its tumult and agitation , here seem to die away to silence and repose .  Few people , even amongst the poor , and the neighbourhood is a poor one , care to reside in it , while they can be lodged as cheaply close by , and more to their taste .  Some think that the old square at the end , with its ancient , nodding trees , is close and gloomy ; others have heard strange noises in the house that has suffered from fire , and are sure it is haunted ; and some again do not like the silent , deserted look of the place , and cannot get over the fancy that , if no one will live in it , it must be because it is unlucky .  And thus it daily decays more and more , and daily seems to grow more silent .  The appearance of the few houses that are inhabited , says little in favour of this unfortunate street .  In one , a tailor has taken up his abode .  He is a pale , serious man , who stitches at his board in the window the whole day long , cheered by the occasional song of a thrush , hopping in its osier cage .  This tailor , Samuel Hopkins yclept , lives by repairing damaged vestments .  He once made a coat , and boasts — with how much truth is known to his own heart — that he likewise cut out , fashioned , and fitted , a pair of blue nether garments .  Further on , at the corner of the square , stands the house of Mrs. Adams , an aged widow , who keeps a small school , which , on her brass board , she emphatically denominates her " Establishment for Young Ladies .  " This house has an unmistakeable air of literary dirt and neglect ; the area and kitchen windows are encumbered with the accumulated mud and dust of years ; from the attic casement , a little red-haired servant-girl is ever gaping ; and on hot summer afternoons , when the parlour windows are left open , there is a glimpse within of a dingy school-mistress , and still more dingy school-room , with a few pupils who sit straggling on half-a-dozen benches , conning their lessons with a murmuring hum .  With one exception , there is no other sign of commerce , trade , or profession in the whole street .  For all an outward glance can reveal to the contrary , the people who live there are so very rich that they do not need to work at all , or so very genteel in their decay , that if they do work , they must do it in a hidden , skulking , invisible sort of fashion , or else be irretrievably disgraced .  The solitary exception to which we have alluded , exists , or rather existed , for though we speak in the present , we write in the past by some years , in one of the smallest houses in the street .  A little six-roomed house it was , exactly facing the dreary haunted mansion , and exposed to all the noises aforesaid .  It was , also , to say the truth , an abode of poor and mean aspect .  In the window hung a dress-maker 'sboard , on which was modestly inscribed , with a list of prices , the name of — " RACHEL GRAY .  "  It was accompanied with patterns of yellow paper sleeves , trimmed in every colour , an old book of fashions , and beautiful and bright , as if reared in wood or meadow , a pot of yellow crocuses in bloom .  They were closing now , for evening was drawing in , and they knew the hour .  They had opened to light in the dingy parlour within , and which we will now enter .  It was but a little room , and the soft gloom of a spring twilight half-filled it .  The furniture though poor and old-fashioned , was scrupulously clean ; and it shone again in the flickering fire-light .  A few discoloured prints in black frames hung against the walls ; two or three broken china ornaments adorned the wooden mantel-shelf , which was , moreover , decorated with a little dark-looking mirror in a rim of tarnished gold .  By the fire an elderly woman of grave and stern aspect , but who had once been handsome , sat reading the newspaper .  Near the window , two apprentices sewed , under the superintendence of Rachel Gray .  A mild ray of light fell on her pale face , and bending figure .  She sewed on , serious and still , and the calm gravity of her aspect harmonized with the silence of the little parlour which nothing disturbed , save the ticking of an old clock behind the door , the occasional rustling of Mrs. Gray 'snewspaper , and the continuous and monotonous sound of stitching .  Rachel Gray looked upwards of thirty , yet she was younger by some years .  She was a tall , thin , and awkward woman , sallow and faded before her time .  She was not , and had never been handsome , yet there was a patient seriousness in the lines of her face , which , when it caught the eye , arrested it at once , and kept it long .  Her brow , too , was broad and intellectual ; her eyes were very fine , though their look was dreamy and abstracted ; and her smile , when she did smile , which was not often , for she was slightly deaf and spoke little , was pleasant and very sweet .  She sewed on , as we have said , abstracted and serious , when gradually , for even in observation she was slow , the yellow crocuses attracted her attention .  She looked at them meditatively , and watched them closing , with the decline of day .  And , at length , as if she had not understood , until then , what was going on before her , she smiled and admiringly exclaimed :  " Now do look at the creatures , mother !  "  Mrs. Gray glanced up from her newspaper , and snuffed rather disdainfully .  " Lawk , Rachel !  " she said , " you do n't mean to call crocuses creatures — do you ?  I 'lltell you what though , " she added , with a doleful shake of the head , " I do n't know what Her Majesty thinks ; but I say the country ca n't stand it much longer .  "  Mrs. Gray had been cook in a Prime Minister 'shousehold , and this had naturally given her a political turn .  " The Lord has taught you , " murmured Rachel , bending over the flowers with something like awe , and a glow spread over her sallow cheek , and there came a light to her large brown eyes .  Of the two apprentices — one a sickly , fretful girl of sixteen , heard her not ; she went on sewing , and the very way in which she drew her needle and thread was peevish .  The other apprentice did hear Rachel , and she looked , or rather stared at the dress-maker , with grim wonder .  Indeed , there was something particularly grim about this young maiden — a drear stolidity that defies describing .  A pure Saxon she was — no infusion of Celtic , or Danish , or Norman blood had lightened the native weight of her nature .  She was young , yet she already went through life settling everything , and living in a moral tower of most uninviting aspect .  But though Jane settled everything , she did not profess to understand everything ; and when , as happened every now and then , Rachel Gray came out with such remarks as that above recorded , Jane felt confounded .  " She could n't make out Miss Gray — that she could n't .  "  " I 'mso tired !  " peevishly said Mary , the fretful apprentice .  At once Rachel kindly observed : " Put by your work , dear .  "  Again Mrs. Gray snuffed , and came out with : " Lawk !  she 'salways grummy !  "  Mary tossed away her work , folded her arms , and looked sullen .  Jane , the grim apprentice , drew her needle and thread twice as fast as before .  " Thank Heaven !  " she piously thought , " I am not lazy , nor sickly , and I ca n't see much difference between the two — that I ca n't .  "  Rachel 'swork lay in her lap ; she sat looking at the crocuses until she fell in a dream far in the past .  For the past is our realm , free to all , high or low , who wish to dwell in it .  There we may set aside the bitterness and the sorrow ; there we may choose none but the pleasing visions , the bright , sunny spots where it is sweet to linger .  The Future , fair as Hope may make it , is a dream , we claim it in vain .  The Present , harsh or delightful , must be endured , yet it flies from us before we can say " it is gone .  " But the Past is ours to call up at our will .  It is vivid and distinct as truth .  In good and in evil , it is irrevocable ; the divine seal has been set upon it for evermore .  In that Book — a pure and holy one was hers — though not without a few dark and sad pages — Rachel Gray often read .  And now , the sight of the yellow flower of spring took her back , to a happy day of her childhood .  She saw herself a little girl again , with her younger sister Jane , and the whole school to which they belonged , out on a holiday treat in a green forest .  Near that forest there was a breezy field ; and there it was that Rachel first saw the yellow crocuses bloom .  She remembered her joy , her delight at the wonderful beauty of the wild field flowers — how she and Jane heaped their laps with them , and sat down at the task ; and how , when tired with the pleasant labour , they rested , as many yellow crocuses as before seemed to blow and play in the breeze around them .  And she remembered , too , how , even then , there passed across her childish mind , a silent wonder at their multitude , an undefined awe for the power of the Almighty Hand who made the little flower , and bade it bloom in the green fields , beneath the misty azure of a soft spring sky .  And then swiftly followed other thoughts .  Where was little , blue-eyed Jane , her younger sister , her little companion and friend ?  Sleeping in a London grave , far from the pleasant and sunny spots where God 'swild flowers bloom .  And she — why she was pursuing her path in life , doing the will of God Almighty .  " And what more , " thought Rachel , " can I hope or wish for ?  "  " Now , Rachel , what are you moping about ?  " tartly asked her mother , who , though half blind , had a quick eye for her daughter 'smeditative fits .  Abruptly fled the dream .  The childish memories , the holy remembrance of the dead , sank back once more to their quiet resting-place in Rachel 'sheart .  Wakening up with a half-lightened start , she hastily resumed her work .  " I do n't think there ever was such a moper as that girl , " grumbled Mrs. Gray to herself .  Rachel smiled cheerfully in her mother 'sface .  But as to telling her that she had been thinking of the yellow crocuses , and of the spots they grew in , and of the power and greatness and glory of Him who made them , Rachel did not dream of it .  " There 'sMrs. Brown , " said Mrs. Gray , as a dark figure passed by the window .  " Go , and open the door , Mary .  "  Mary did not stir , upon which Jane officiously rose and said , " I 'llgo .  " She went , and in came , or rather bounced , Mrs. Brown — a short , stout , vulgar-looking woman of fifty or so , who at once filled the room with noise .  " La , Mrs. Gray !  " she began breathlessly , " What do you think ?  There 'sa new one .  I have brought you the paper ; third column , second page , first article , ' The Church in a Mess .  ' I thought you 'dlike to see it .  Well , Rachel , and how are you getting on ?  Mrs. James 'sdress do n't fit her a bit , and she says she 'llnot give you another stitch of work : but la !  you do n't care — do you ?  Why , Mary , how yellow you look to day .  I declare you 'reas yellow as the crocuses in the pot .  Ai n't she now , Jane ?  And so you 'renot married yet — are you , my girl ?  " she added , giving the grim apprentice a slap on the back .  Jane eyed her quietly .  " You 'dbetter not do that again , Mrs. Brown , " she said , with some sternness , " and as to getting married : why , s'pose you mind your own business !  "  Mrs. Brown threw herself back in her chair , and laughed until the tears ran down her face .  When she recovered , it was to address Mrs. Gray .  " La , Mrs. Gray !  ca n't you find it ?  " she said .  " Why , I told you , third column , second page , ' The Church in a Mess .  ' You ca n't miss. I have put a pin in it .  "  Spite of this kind attention , Mrs. Gray had not found " The Church in a Mess .  "  " Lawk , Mrs. Brown !  " she said , impatiently , " where 'sthe use of always raking up them sort of things !  The badness of others do n't make us good — does it ?  It 'sthe taxes I think of , Mrs. Brown ; it 'sthe taxes !  Now , Rachel , where are you going ?  "  " I am going to take home this work , mother .  "  Unable to find fault with this , Mrs. Gray muttered to herself .  She was not ill-natured , but fault-finding was with her an inveterate habit .  " La !  what a muff that girl of yours is , Mrs. Gray !  " charitably observed Mrs. Brown , as Rachel left the room .  For Mrs. Brown being Mrs. Gray 'scousin , landlady , and neighbour , took the right to say everything she pleased .  " She ai n't particlerly bright , " confessed Mrs. Gray , poking the fire , " but you see , Mrs. Brown — "  Rachel closed the door , and heard no more .  Whilst Mrs. Brown was talking , she had been tying up her parcel .  She now put on her bonnet and cloak , and went out .  It is sweet , after the toil of a day , to breathe fresh air , London air even though it should be .  It is sweet , after the long closeness of the work-room , to walk out and feel the sense of life and liberty .  A new being seemed poured into Rachel as she went on .  " I wonder people do not like this street , " she thought , pausing at the corner to look back on the grey , quiet line she was leaving behind .  " They call it dull , and to me it is so calm and sweet .  " And she sighed to enter the noisy and populous world before her .  She hastily crossed it , and only slackened her pace when she reached the wide streets , the mansions with gardens to them , the broad and silent squares of the west end .  She stopped before a handsome house , the abode of a rich lady who occasionally employed her , because she worked cheaper than a fashionable dress-maker , and as well .  Mrs. Moxton was engaged — visitors were with her — Rachel had to wait — she sat in the hall .  A stylish footman , who quickly detected that she was shy and nervous , entertained himself and his companions , by making her ten times more so .  His speech was rude — his jests were insolent .  Rachel was meek and humble ; but she could feel insult ; and that pride , from which few of God 'screatures are free , rose within her , and flushed her pale cheek with involuntary displeasure .  At length , the infliction ceased .  Mrs. Moxton 'svisitors left ; Rachel was called in .  Her first impulse had been to complain of the footman to his mistress ; but mercy checked the temptation ; it might make him lose his place .  Poor Rachel !  she little knew that this footman could have been insolent to his mistress herself , had he so chosen .  He was six foot three , and , in his livery of brown and gold , looked splendid .  In short , he was invaluable , and not to be parted with on any account .  Mrs. Moxton was habitually a well-bred , good-natured woman ; but every rule has its exceptions .  Rachel found her very much out of temper .  To say the truth , one of her recent visitors was in the Mrs. Brown style ; Mrs. Moxton had been provoked and irritated ; and Rachel paid for it .  " Now , Miss Gray , " she said , with solemn indignation , " what do you mean by bringing back work in this style ?  That flounce is at least an inch too high !  I thought you an intelligent young person — but really , really !  "  " It 'svery easily altered , ma'am , " said Rachel , submissively .  " You need , not trouble , " gravely replied Mrs. Moxton .  " I owe you something ; you may call with your bill to-morrow .  "  " I shall not be able to call to-morrow , ma'am ; and if it were convenient now — "  " It is not convenient now !  " said Mrs. Morton , rather haughtily .  She thought Rachel the most impertinent creature she had ever met with — that is to say , next to that irritating Mrs. Maberly , who had repeated that provoking thing about Mr. So-and-So .  Rachel sighed and left the house like all shy persons , she was easily depressed .  It was night when she stood once more in the street .  Above the pale outline of the houses spread a sky of dark azure .  A star shone in it , a little star ; but it burned with as brilliant a light as any great planet .  Rachel gazed at it earnestly , and the shadow passed away .  " What matter !  " she thought , " even though a man in livery made a jest of me — even though a lady in silk was scornful .  What matter !  God made that star for me as well as for her !  Besides , " she added , checking a thought which might , she feared , be too proud , " besides , who , and what am I , that I should repine ?  "  CHAPTER II .  Rachel went on ; but she did not turn homewards .  She left the broad and airy strait , where Mrs. Moxton lived .  She entered a narrow one , long and gloomy .  It led her into a large and gas-lit square .  She crossed it without looking right or left : a thought led her on like a spell .  Through streets and alleys , by lanes and courts — on she went , until at length she stood in the heart of a populous neighbourhood .  Cars were dashing along the pavement ; night vendors were screaming at their stalls , where tallow lights flared in the night wind .  Drunken men were shouting in gin palaces , wretched looking women were coming out of pawnbroker 'sshops , and precocious London children were pouring into a theatre , where their morals were to be improved , and their understandings were to be enlightened , at the moderate rate of a penny a head .  Rachel sighed at all she saw , and divined .  " Poor things !  " she thought , " if they only knew better .  " But this compassionate feeling did not exclude a sort of fear .  Rachel kept as much as she could in the gloomy part of the streets ; she shrank back nervously from every rude group , and thus she at length succeeded in attracting the very thing she most wished to shun — observation .  Three or four women , rushing out of a public-house , caught sight of her timid figure .  At once , one of them — she was more than half-intoxicated — burst out into a loud shouting laugh , and , seizing Rachel 'sarm , swung her round on the pavement .  " Let me go !  " said Rachel " I am in a hurry .  " She trembled from head to foot , and vainly tried to put on the appearance of a courage she felt not .  " Give me something for drink then , " insolently said the woman .  Rachel 'smomentary fear was already over ; she had said to herself , " and what can happen to me without God 'swill ?  " and the thought had nerved her .  She looked very quietly at the woman 'sflushed and bloated face , and as quietly she said :  " You have drunk too much already ; let me go .  "  " No I wo n't , " hoarsely replied her tormentor , and she used language which , though it could not stain the pure heart of her who heard it , brought the blush of anger and shame to her cheek .  " Let me go !  " she said , trembling this time with indignation .  " Yes — yes , let the young woman go , Molly , " observed one of the woman 'scompanions who had hitherto looked on apathetically .  She officiously disengaged Rachel 'sarm , whispering as she did so : " You 'dbetter cut now — I 'llhold her .  Molly 'sawful when she 'sgot them fits on .  "  Rachel hastened away , followed by the derisive shout of the whole group .  She turned down the first street she found ; it was dark and silent , yet Rachel did not stop until she reached the very end of it ; then she paused to breathe a while , but when she put her hand in her pocket for her handkerchief it was gone ; with it had disappeared her purse , and two or three shillings .  Rachel saw and understood it all — the friend of Molly , her officious deliverer , was a pick-pocket She hung down her head and sighed , dismayed and astonished , not at her loss , but at the sin .  " Ah !  dear Lord Jesus , " she thought , full of sorrow , " that thou shouldst thus be crucified anew by the sins of thy people !  " Then followed the perplexing inward question : " Oh !  why is there so much sin ?  " " God knows best , " was the inward reply , and once more calm and serene , Rachel went on .  At first , she hardly knew where she was .  She stood in a dark thoroughfare where three streets met — three narrow streets that scarcely broke on the surrounding gloom .  Hesitatingly she took the first .  It happened to be that which she wanted .  When Rachel recognized it , her pace slackened , her heart beat , her colour came and went , she was much moved ; she prayed too — she prayed with her whole heart , but she walked very slowly .  And thus she reached at length a lonely little street not quite so gloomy as that which she had been following .  She paused at the corner shop for a moment .  It was a second-hand ironmonger 's; rusty iron locks , and rusty tongs and shovels , and rusty goods of every description kept grim company to tattered books and a few old pictures , that had contracted an iron look in their vicinity .  A solitary gas-light lit the whole .  Rachel stopped and looked at the books , and at the pictures , but only for a few seconds .  If she stood there , it was not to gaze with passing curiosity on those objects ; she knew them all of old , as she knew every stone of that street ; it was to wait until the flush of her cheek had subsided , and the beating of her heart had grown still .  At length she went on .  When she reached the middle of the street she paused ; she stood near a dark house , shrouded within the gloom of its doorway .  Opposite her , on the other side of the way , was a small shop lit from within .  From where she stood , Rachel could see everything that passed in that abode .  A carpenter lived there , for the place was full of rough deal boards standing erect against the wall , and the floor was heaped high with shavings .  Presently a door within opened , the master of the shop entered it , and set himself to work by the light of a tallow candle .  He was a tall , thin man , grey-headed and deeply wrinkled , but strong and hale for his years .  As he bent over his work , the light of the candle vividly defined his angular figure and sharp features .  Rachel looked at him ; her eyes filled with tears , she brushed them away with her hand , for they prevented her from seeing , but they returned thicker and faster .  " Oh !  my father , my father !  " she cried within her heart , " why must I stand here in darkness looking at you ?  why cannot I go in to you , like other daughters to their father ?  why do you not love your child ?  " Her heart seemed full to bursting ; her eyes overflowed , her breathing was broken by sobs , and in the simple and pathetic words of Scripture , she turned away her head , and raised her voice and wept aloud .  Rachel Gray was the daughter of the grey-headed carpenter by a first wife ; soon after whose death he had married again .  Mrs. Gray was his second wife , and the mother of his youngest daughter .  She was kind in her way , but that was at the best a harsh one .  Rachel was a timid , retiring child , plain , awkward , and sallow , with nothing to attract the eye , and little to please the fancy .  Mrs. Gray did not use her ill certainly , but neither did she give her any great share in her affections .  And why and how should a step-mother have loved Rachel when her own father did not ?  when almost from her birth she had been to him as though she did not exist — as a being who , uncalled for and unwanted , had come athwart his life .  Never had he , to her knowledge , taken her in his arms , or on his knee ; never had he kissed or caressed her ; never addressed to her one word of fondness , or even of common kindness .  Neither , it is true , had he ill-used nor ill-treated her ; he felt no unnatural aversion for his own flesh and blood , nothing beyond a deep and incurable indifference .  For her , his heart remained as a barren and arid soil on which the sweet flower of love could never bloom .  There was but one being in this narrow circle who really and fondly loved Rachel Gray .  And this was Jane , her little half-sister .  Rachel was her elder by full five years .  When she was told one morning that Jane was born , she heard the tidings with silent awe , then with eager curiosity , climbed up on a chair to peep at the rosy baby fast asleep in its cradle .  From that day , she had but one thought — her little sister .  How describe the mingled love and pride with which Rachel received the baby , when it was first confided to her care , and when to her was allotted the delightful task of dragging about in her arms a heavy , screaming child ?  And who but Rachel found Jane 'sfirst tooth ?  Who but Rachel taught Jane to speak ; and taught her how to walk ?  Who else fulfilled for the helpless infant and wilful child every little office of kindness and of love , until at length there woke in her own childish heart some of that maternal fondness born with woman , the feeling whence her deepest woes and her highest happiness alike must spring .  When her father was unkind , when her step-mother was hasty , Rachel turned for comfort to her little sister .  In her childish caresses , and words , and ways , she found solace and consolation .  She did not feel it hard that she was to be the slave of a spoiled child , to wash , comb , and dress her , to work for her , to carry her , to sing to her , to play with her , and that , not when she liked , but when it pleased Jane .  All this Rachel did not mind — Jane loved her .  She knew it , she was sure of it ; and where there is love , there cannot be tyranny .  Thus the two sisters grew up together , until one day , without previous warning , Thomas Gray went off to America , and coolly left his wife and children behind .  Mrs. Gray was a good and an upright woman ; she reared her husband 'schild like her own , and worked for both , without ever repining at the double burden .  When her husband returned to England , after three years 'absence , Mrs. Gray lost no time in compelling him to grant her a weekly allowance for herself , and for the support of her children .  Thomas Gray could not resist the claim ; but he gave what the law compelled him to give , and no more .  He never returned to live with his wife ; he never expressed a wish to see either of his daughters .  He had been back some years when little Jane died at thirteen .  She died , dreaming of heaven , with her hand in that of Rachel , and her head on Rachel 'sbosom .  She died , blessing her eldest sister with her last breath , with love for her in the last look of her blue eyes , in the last smile of her wan lips .  It was a happy death-bed — one to waken hope , not to call forth sorrow ; and yet what became of the life of Rachel when Jane was gone ?  For a long time it was a dreary void — a melancholy succession of days and weeks and months , from which the happy light had fled — from which something sweet and delightful was gone for ever .  For , though it may be sweeter to love , than to be loved , yet it is hard always to give and never to receive in return ; and when Jane died , Rachel knew well enough that all the love she had to receive upon earth , had been given unto her .  Like the lost Pleiad , " seen no more below , " the bright star of her life had left the sky .  It burned in other heavens with more celestial light ; but it shone no longer over her path — to cheer , to comfort , to illume .  Mrs. Gray was kind ; after her own fashion , she loved Rachel .  They had grieved and suffered together from the same sorrows , and kindred griefs can bind the farthest hearts ; but beyond this there was no sympathy between them , and Mrs. Gray 'saffection , such as it was , was free from a particle of tenderness .  She was not naturally a patient or an amiable woman ; and she had endured great and unmerited wrongs from Rachel 'sfather .  Perhaps , she would have been more than human , had she not occasionally reminded her step-daughter of Mr. Thomas Gray 'smisdeeds , and now and then taunted her with a " He never cared about you — you know .  "  Aye — Rachel knew it well enough .  She knew that her own father loved her not — that though he had cared little for Jane , not being a tender-hearted man , still that he had cared somewhat , for that younger , and more favoured child .  That before he left England , he would occasionally caress her ; that when she died , tears had flowed down his stern cheek on hearing the tidings , and that the words had escaped him : " I am sorry I was not there .  "  All this Rachel knew .  Her mind was too noble , and too firm for jealousy ; her heart too pious , and too humble for rebellious sorrow ; but yet she found it hard to bear , and very hard to be reminded of it as a reproach and a shame .  Was it not enough that she could not win the affection she most longed for ?  She was devoted to her step-mother ; she had fondly loved her younger sister ; but earlier born in her heart than these two loves , deeper , and more solemn , was the love Rachel felt for her father .  That instinct of nature , which in him was silent , in her spoke strongly .  That share of love which he denied her , she silently added to her own , and united both in one fervent offering .  Harshness and indifference had no power to quench a feeling , to which love in kindness had not given birth .  She loved because it was her destiny ; because , as she once said herself , when speaking of another : " A daughter 'sheart clings to her father with boundless charity .  "  Young as she was when Thomas Gray left his home , Rachel remembered him well .  His looks , the very tones of his voice , were present to her .  Not once , during the years of his absence , did the thought of her father cease to haunt her heart .  When , from the bitter remarks of her step-mother , she learned that he had returned , and where he had taken up his home , she had no peace until she succeeded in obtaining a glimpse of him .  Free , as are all the children of the poor , she made her way to the street where he lived , and many a day walked for weary miles in order to pass by her father 'sdoor .  But she never crossed the threshold , never spoke to him , never let him know who she was , until the sad day when she bore to him the news of her sister 'sdeath .  He received her with his usual coldness — in such emotion as he showed , she had no share , like strangers they had met — like strangers they parted .  But , though his coldness and her own timidity prevented nearer advances , they did not prevent Rachel from often seeking the remote neighbourhood and gloomy street where her father dwelt .  It was a pleasure , though a sad one , to look on his face , even if she went not near him ; and thus it happened , that on this dark night she stood in the sheltering obscurity of the well-known doorway , gazing on the solitary old man , yet venturing not to cross the narrow street .  The wind blew from the east .  It was cold and piercing ; yet it could not draw Rachel from her vigil of love .  Still she looked and lingered , wishing she knew not what ; and hoping against hope .  Thus she stayed , until Thomas Gray left his work , put up the shutters , then left the house by the private door , and slowly walked away to the nearest public-house .  The shop was once more a blank in the dark street .  Rachel looked at the deserted dwelling and sighed ; than softly and silently she stole away .  CHAPTER III .  It was late when Rachel reached home .  She found her step-mother sitting up for her , rigid , amazed y indignant — so indignant , indeed , that though she rated Rachel soundly for her audacity in presuming to stay out so long without previous leave obtained , she quite forgot to inquire particularly why she had not come home earlier .  A series of disasters had been occasioned by Rachel 'sabsence ; Jane and Mary had quarrelled , Mrs. Gray had been kept an hour waiting for her supper , the beer had naturally become flat and worthless , and whilst Mrs. Gray was sleeping — and how could she help sleeping , being quite faint and exhausted with her long vigil — puss had got up on the table and walked off with Rachel 'spolony .  There was a touch of quiet humour in Rachel , and with a demure smile , she internally wondered why it was precisely her polony that had been selected by puss , but aloud she merely declared that she could make an excellent supper on bread and beer .  Mrs. Gray , who held the reins of domestic management in their little household , assured her that she had better , for that nothing else was she going to get ; she sat down heroically determined to eat the whole of her polony in order to punish and provoke her step-daughter ; but somehow or other the half of that dainty had , before the end of the meal , found its way to the plate of Rachel , who , when she protested against this act of generosity , was imperiously ordered to hold her tongue , which order she did not dare to resist ; for if Mrs. Gray 'sheart was mellow , her temper was sufficiently tart .  The apprentices had long been gone to bed ; as soon as supper was over , Mrs. Gray intimated to Rachel the propriety of following their example .  Rachel ventured to demur meekly .  " I cannot , mother — I have work to finish .  "  " Then better have sat at home and finished it , than have gone gadding about , and nearly got a pitch plaster on your mouth , " grumbled Mrs. Gray , who was a firm believer in pitch plasters , and abductions , and highway robberies , and all sorts of horrors .  " Mind you do n't set the house a fire , " she added , retiring .  " Why , mother , " said Rachel , smiling , " you treat me like a child , and I am twenty-six .  "  " What about that ?  when you aint got no more sense than a baby .  "  Rachel did not venture to dispute , a proposition so distinctly stated .  She remained up , and sat sewing until her work was finished ; she then took out from some secret repository a small end of candle , lit it , and extinguished the long candle , by the light of which she had been working .  From her pocket she took a small key ; it opened a work-box , whence she drew a shirt collar finely stitched ; she worked until her eyes ached , but she heeded it not , until they closed with involuntary fatigue and sleep , and still she would not obey the voice of wearied nature ; still she stitched for love , like the poor shirtmaker for bread , until , without previous warning , her candle end suddenly flickered , then expired in its socket , and left her in darkness .  Rachel gently opened the window , and partly unclosed the shutter ; the moon was riding in the sky above the old house opposite , her pale clear light glided over its brown walls and the quiet street , down into the silent parlour of Rachel .  She looked around her , moved at seeing familiar objects under an unusual aspect .  In that old chair she had often seen her father sitting ; on such a moonlight night as this she and Jane , then already declining , had sat by the window , and looking at that same sky , had talked with youthful fervour of high and eternal things .  And now Jane knew the divine secrets she had guessed from afar , and Thomas Gray , alas !  was a stranger and an alien in his own home .  " Who knows , " thought Rachel , " but he will return some day ?  Who knows — who can tell ?  Life is long , and hope is eternal .  Ah !  if he should come back , even though he never looked at me , never spoke , blessed , thrice blessed , should ever be held the day ... " And a prayer , not framed in words , but in deep feelings , gushed like a pure spring from her inmost heart .  But , indeed , when did she not pray ?  When was God divided from her thoughts ?  When did prayer fail to prompt the kind , gentle words that fell from her lips , or to lend its daily grace to a pure and blameless life ?  For to her , God was not what He , alas !  is to so many — an unapproachable Deity , to be worshipped from afar , in fear and trembling , or a cold though sublime abstraction .  No , Jesus was her friend , her counsellor , her refuge .  There was familiarity and tenderness in her very love for Him ; and , though she scarcely knew it herself , a deep and fervent sense of His divine humanity of those thirty-three years of earthly life , of toil , of poverty , of trouble , and of sorrow which move our very hearts within us , when we look from Bethlehem to Calvary , from the lowly birth in the Manger to the bitter death on the Cross .  We might ask , were these the pages to raise such questions , why Jesus is not more loved thus — as a friend , and a dear one , rather than as a cold master to be served , not for love , but for wages .  But let it rest .  Sufficient is it for us to know that not thus did Rachel Gray love him , but with a love in which humility and tenderness equally blended .  After a meditative pause , she quietly put away her things by moonlight , then again closed shutter and window , and softly stole up to the room which she shared with her step-mother .  She soon fell asleep , and dreamed that she had gone to live with her father , who said to her , " Rachel !  Rachel !  " So great was her joy , that she awoke .  She found her mother already up , and scolding her because she still slept .  " Mother , " asked Rachel , leaning up on one elbow , " was it you who called me , Rachel ?  "  " Why aint I been a calling of you this last hour ?  " asked Mrs. Gray , with much asperity .  Rachel checked a sigh , and rose .  " Get up Jane — get up Mary , " said Mrs. Gray , rapping soundly at the room door of the two apprentices .  " Let them sleep a little longer , poor young things !  " implored Rachel .  " No , that I wo n't , " replied her mother , with great determination , " lazy little creatures .  "  And to the imminent danger of her own knuckles , she rapped so pertinaciously , that Jane and Mary were unable to feign deafness , and replied , the former acting as spokeswoman , that Mrs. Gray need n't be making all that noise ; for that they heard her , and were getting up .  " I thought I 'dmake them hear me , " muttered Mrs. Gray , hobbling down stairs .  There are some beings who lead lives so calm , that when they look back on years , they seem to read the story of a few days ; and of these was Rachel Gray .  Life for her flowed dull , monotonous and quiet , as that of a nun in her cloister .  The story of one day was the story of the next .  A few hopes , a few precious thoughts she treasured in her heart ; but outwardly , to work , to hear idle gossip , to eat , drink , and sleep , seemed her whole portion , her destiny from mom till night , from birth to the grave .  Like every day passed this day .  When it grew so dark that she could see no more to work , she put her task by , and softly stole away to a little back room up-stairs .  It was a very small room indeed , with a bed , where the apprentices slept ; a chest of drawers , a table , and two chairs : — many a closet is larger .  Its solitary window looked out on the little yard below ; low walls , against which grew Rachel 'sstocks and wall-flowers , enclosed it .  From the next house , there came the laughter and the screams too of children , and of babies ; and from a neighbouring forge , a loud , yet not unmusical clanking , with which now and then , blended the rude voices of the men , singing snatches of popular songs .  Dimmed by the smoke of the forge , and by the natural heaviness of a London atmosphere , the sky enclosed all ; yet , even through the smoke and haze , fair rosy gleams of the setting sun shone in that London sky , and at the zenith there was a space of pure , ethereal blue — soft , and very far from sinful and suffering earth , where glittered in calm beauty a large and tranquil star .  Rachel sat by the window .  She listened to earth : she looked at Heaven .  Her heart swelled with love , and prayer , and tenderness , and hope .  Tears of delight filled her eyes ; she murmured to herself verses from psalms and hymns — all praising God , all telling the beauty of God 'screation .  Oh !  pure and beautiful , indeed , would be the story of these your evening musings , if we could lightly tell it here , Rachel Gray .  Reader , if to learn how a fine nature found its way through darkness and mist , and some suffering to the highest , and to the noblest of the delights God has granted to man — the religious and the intellectual ; if , we say , to learn this give you pleasure , you may read on to the end of the chapter ; if not , pass on at once to the next .  These pages were not written for you ; and even though you should read them , feel and understand them , you never will .  Our life is twofold ; and of that double life , which , like all of us , Rachel bore within her , we have as yet said but little .  She was now twenty six ; a tall , thin , sallow woman , ungraceful , of shy manners , and but little speech ; but with a gentle face , a broad forehead , and large brown eyes .  By trade , she was a dress-maker , of small pretensions ; her father had forsaken her early , and her step-mother had reared her .  This much , knew the little world in which moved Rachel Gray , this much , and no more .  We may add , that this some little world had , in its wisdom , pronounced Rachel Gray a fool .  Her education had been very limited .  She knew how to read , and she could write , but neither easily nor well .  For though God had bestowed on her the rare dower of a fine mind , He had not added to it the much more common , though infinitely less precious gift , of a quick intellect .  She learned slowly , with great difficulty , with sore pain and trouble .  Her teachers , one and all , pronounced her dull ; her step-mother was ashamed of her , and to her dying day thought Rachel no better than a simpleton .  Rachel felt this keenly ; but she had no means of self-defence .  She had not the least idea of how she could prove that she was not an idiot .  One of the characteristics of childhood and of youth is a painful inability , an entire powerlessness of giving the form of speech to its deepest and most fervent feelings .  The infirmity generally dies off with years , perhaps because also dies off the very strength of those feelings ; but even as they were to last for ever with Rachel Gray , so was that infirmity destined to endure .  Shy , sensitive , and nervous , she was a noble book , sealed to all save God .  At eleven , her education , such as it was , was over .  Rachel had to work , and earn her bread .  She was reared religiously , and hers was a deeply religious nature .  The misapplication of religion narrows still more a narrow mind , but religion , taken in its true sense , enlarges a noble one .  Yet , not without strife , not without suffering , did Rachel make her way .  She was ignorant , and she was alone ; how to ask advice she knew not , for she could not explain herself .  Sometimes she seemed to see the most sublime truths , plain as in a book ; at other times , they floated dark and clouded before her gaze , or vanished in deep obscurity , and left her alone and cast down .  She suffered years , until , from her very sufferings , perfect faith was born , and from faith unbounded trust in God , after which her soul sank in deep and blessed peace .  And now , when rest was won , there came the want for more .  Religion is love .  Rachel wanted thought , that child of the intellect , as love is the child of the heart .  She did not know herself what it was that she needed , until she discovered and possessed it — until she could read a book , a pamphlet , a scrap of verse , and brood over it , like a bird over her young , not for hours , not for days , but for weeks — blest in that silent meditation .  Her mind was tenacious , but slow ; she read few books — many would have disturbed her .  Sweeter and pleasanter was it to Rachel to think over what she did read , and to treasure it up in the chambers of her mind , than to fill those chambers with heaps of knowledge .  Indeed for knowledge Rachel cared comparatively little .  In such as displayed more clearly the glories of God 'screation she delighted ; but man 'slearning , man 'sscience , touched her not .  To think was her delight ; a silent , solitary , forbidden pleasure , in which Rachel had to indulge by stealth .  For all this time , and especially since the death of her sister , she suffered keenly from home troubles , from a little domestic persecution , painful , pertinacious , and irritating .  Mrs. Gray vaguely felt that her daughter was not like other girls , and not knowing that she was in reality very far beyond most ; feeling , too , that Rachel was wholly unlike herself , and jealously resenting the fact , she teased her unceasingly , and did her best to interrupt the fits of meditation , which she did not scruple to term " moping .  " When her mind was most haunted with some fine thought , Rachel had to talk to her step-mother , to listen to her , and to take care not to reply at random ; if she failed in any of these obligations , half-an-hour 'slecture was the least penalty she could expect .  Dear to her , for this reason ; were the few moments of solitude she could call her own ; dear to her was that little room , where she could steal away at twilight time and think in peace .  Very unlike her age was this ignorant dress-maker of the nineteenth century .  Ask the men and women of the day to read volumes ; why , there is not a season but they go through the Herculean labour of swallowing down histories written faster than time flies , novels by the dozen , essays , philosophic and political , books of travels , of science , of statistics , besides the nameless host of reviews , magazines , and papers , daily and weekly .  Ask them to study : why , what is there they do not know , from the most futile accomplishment to the most abstruse science ?  Ask them too , if you like , to enter life , to view it under all its aspects ; why , they have travelled over the whole earth ; and life , they know from the palace down to the hovel ; but bid them think !  They stare aghast : it is the task of Sisyphus — the labour of the Danaide ; as fast as thought enters their mind , it goes out again .  Bid them commune , one day with God and their own hearts — they reply dejectedly that they cannot ; for their intellect is quick and brilliant , but their heart is cold .  And thought springs from the heart , and in her heart had Rachel Gray found it .  The task impossible to them was to her easy and delightful .  Time wore on ; deeper and more exquisite grew what Rachel quaintly termed to herself " the pleasure of thinking .  " And oh !  she thought sometimes , and it was a thought that made her heart bum , " Oh !  that people only knew the pleasures of thinking !  Oh !  if people would only think !  " And mom , and noon , and night , and bending over her work , or sitting at peaceful twilight time in the little back room , Rachel thought ; and thus she went on through life , between those two fair sisters , Thought and Prayer .  Reader , hare you known many thinkers ?  We confess that we hare known many men and women of keen and great intellect , some geniuses ; but only one real thinker have we known , only one who really thought for thought 'sown sake , and that one was Rachel Gray .  And now , if she moves through this story , thinking much and doing little , you know why .  CHAPTER IV .  It was not merely in meditation that Rachel indulged , when she sought the little room .  The divine did not banish the human from her heart ; and she had friends known to her , but from that back room window ; but friends they were , and , in their way and degree , valued ones .  First , came the neighbour 'schildren .  By standing up on an old wooden stool in the yard , they could see Rachel at her window , and Rachel could see them .  They were rude and ignorant little things enough , and no better than young heathens , in rearing and knowledge ; yet they liked to hear Rachel singing hymns in a low voice ; they even caught from her , scraps of verses , and sang them in their own fashion ; and when Rachel , hearing this , took courage to open a conversation with them , and to teach them as well as she could , she found in them voluntary and sufficiently docile pupils .  Their intercourse , indeed , was brief , and limited to a few minutes every evening that Rachel could steal up to her little room , but it was cordial and free .  Another friend had Rachel , yet one with whom she had never exchanged speech .  There existed , at the back of Mrs. Gray 'shouse , a narrow court , inhabited by the poorest of the poor .  Over part of this court , Mrs. Gray 'sback windows commanded a prospect which few would have envied — yet it had proved to Rachel the source of the truest and the keenest pleasure .  From her window , Rachel could look clearly into a low damp cellar opposite , the abode of a little old Frenchwoman , known in the neighbourhood , as " mad Madame Rose .  "  Madame Rose , as she called herself , was a very diminutive old woman — unusually so , but small and neat in all her limbs , and brisk in all her movements .  She was dry , too , and brown as a nut , with a restless black eye , and a voluble tongue , which she exercised mostly in her native language — not that Madame Rose could not speak English ; she had resided some fifteen years in London , and could say ' yes ' and ' no , ' etc. , quite fluently .  Her attire looked peculiar , in this country , but it suited her person excellently well ; it was simply that of a French peasant woman , with high peaked cap , and kerchief , both snow-white , short petticoats , and full , a wide apron , clattering wooden shoes , and blue stockings .  What wind of fortune had wafted this little French fairy to a London cellar , no one ever knew .  How she lived , was almost as great a mystery .  Every Sunday morning , she went forth , with a little wooden stool , and planted herself at the door of the French chapel ; she asked for nothing , but took what she got .  Indeed , her business there did not seem to be to get anything , but to make herself busy .  She nodded to every one who went in or out , gave unasked-for information , and assisted the policeman in keeping the carriages in order .  She darted in and out , among wheels and horses , with reckless audacity ; and once , to the infinite wrath of a fat liveried coachman , she suspended herself — she was rather short — from the aristocratic reins he held , and boldly attempted to turn the heads of his horses .  On week days , Madame Rose stayed in her cellar , and knitted .  It was this part of her life which Rachel knew , and it was the most beautiful ; for this little , laughed-at being , who lived upon charity , was , herself , all charity .  Never yet , for five years that Rachel had watched her , had she seen Madame Rose alone in her cellar .  Poor girls , who looked very much like out-casts , old and infirm women , helpless children , had successively shared the home , the bed , and the board of Madame Rose .  For her seemed written the beautiful record , " I was naked , and ye clothed me ; I was hungry , and ye fed me : athirst , and ye gave me drink ; and I was houseless , and you sheltered me .  "  With humble admiration , Rachel saw a charity and a zeal which she could not imitate .  Like Mary , she could sit at the feet of the Lord , and , looking up , listen , rapt and absorbed , to the divine teaching .  But the spirit of Martha , the holy zeal and fervour with which she bade welcome to her heavenly guest , were not among the gifts of Rachel Gray .  Yet , the pleasure with which she stood in the corner of her own window , and looked down into the cellar of Madame Rose , was not merely that of religious sympathy or admiration .  As she saw it this evening , with the tallow light that burned on the table , rendering every object minutely distinct , Rachel looked with another feeling than that of mere curiosity .  She looked with the artistic pleasure we feel , when we gaze at some clearly-painted Dutch picture , with its back-ground of soft gloom , and its homely details of domestic life , relieved by touches of brilliant light .  Poor as this cellar was , a painter would have liked it well ; he would surely have delighted in the brown and crazy clothes-press , that stood at the further end , massive and dark ; in the shining kitchen utensils that decorated the walls ; in the low and many-coloured bed ; in the clean , white deal table ; in the smouldering fire , that burned in that dark grate , like a red eye ; especially would he have gloried in the quaint little figure of Madame Rose .  She had been cooking her supper , and she now sat down to it .  In doing so , she caught sight of Rachel 'sfigure ; they were acquainted — that is to say , that Madame Rose , partly aware of the interest Rachel took in such glimpses as she obtained of her own daily life , favoured her with tokens of recognition , whenever she caught sight of her , far or near .  She now nodded in friendly style , laughed , nodded again , and with that communicativeness which formed part of her character , successively displayed every article of her supper for Rachel 'sinspection .  First , came a dishful of dark liquid — onion soup it was — then , a piece of bread , not a large one ; then , two apples ; then a small bit of cheese — for Madame Rose was a Frenchwoman , and she would have her soup , and her dish , and her dessert , no matter on what scale , or in what quantity .  But the supper of Madame Rose did not alone attract the attention and interest of Rachel .  For a week , Madame Rose had enjoyed her cellar to herself ; her last guest , an old and infirm woman , having died of old age ; but , since the preceding day , she had taken in a new tenant — an idiot girl , of some fourteen years of age , whom her father , an inhabitant of the court , had lately forsaken , and whom society , that negligent step-mother of man , had left to her fate .  And now , with tears of emotion and admiration , Rachel watched the little Frenchwoman feeding her adopted child ; having first girt its neck with a sort of bib , Madame Rose armed herself with a long handled spoon , and standing before it — she was too short to sit — she deliberately poured a sufficient quantity of onion soup down its throat a proceeding which the idiot girl received with great equanimity , opening and shutting her mouth with exemplary regularity and seriousness .  So absorbed was Rachel in looking , that she never heard her mother calling her from below , until the summons was , for a third time , angrily repeated .  " Now , Rachel , what are you doing up there ?  " asked the sharp voice of Mrs. Gray , at the foot of the staircase ; " moping , as usual !  Eh ?  "  Rachel started , and hastened down stairs , a little frightened .  She had remained unusually long .  What if her mother should suspect that she had gone up for the purpose of thinking ?  Mrs. Gray had no such suspicion , fortunately ; else she would surely have been horror-struck at the monstrous idea , that Rachel should actually dare to think !  The very extravagance of the supposition saved Rachel It was not to be thought of .  The candle was lit .  Mrs. Brown and another neighbour had looked in .  Gossip , flavoured with scandal — else it would have been tasteless — was at full galop .  " La !  but did n't I always say so ?  " exclaimed Mrs. Brown , who had always said everything .  " I could n't have believed it , that I could n't !  " emphatically observed Mrs. Gray .  " La , bless you , Mrs. Gray !  I could , " sneered the neighbour , who was sharp , thin , and irritable .  Even Jane had her word :  " I never liked her , " she said , giving her thread a pull .  " Who is she ?  " languidly asked Mary , letting her work fall on her knees .  " Never you mind , Miss , " tartly replied Jane .  " Just stitch on , will you ?  "  Mrs. Brown was again down on the unlucky absent one .  " Serve her right , " she said , benevolently .  " Serve her right — the set up thing !  Oh !  there 'sRachel .  Lawk , Rachel !  what a pity you ai n't been here !  You never heard such a story as has come out about that little staymaker , Humpy , as I call her .  Why , she 'sbeen a making love to — la !  but I ca n't help laughing , when I think of it ; and it 'sall true , every word of it ; aint it , Mrs. Smith ?  "  Mrs. Smith loftily acquiesced .  " Oh !  my little room — my little room !  " inwardly sighed Rachel , as she sat down to her work .  She hoped that the story was , at least , finished and over ; but if it was , the commentaries upon it were only beginning , and Heaven knows if they were not various and abundant .  Rachel did her best to abstract herself ; to hear , and not listen .  She succeeded so well that she only awoke from her dream when Mrs. Brown said to her ,  " Well , Rachel , why do n't you answer , then ?  "  Rachel looked up , with a start , and said , in some trepidation ,  " Answer !  I did n't hear you speak , ma'am .  "  " Did n't you now !  " knowingly observed Mrs. Brown , winking on the rest of the company .  " No , ma'am , I did not , indeed , " replied Rachel , earnestly .  " Bless the girl !  " said Mrs. Brown , laughing outright ; " why , you must be growing deaf .  "  " I hope not , " said Rachel , rather perplexed ; " yet , perhaps , I am ; for , indeed , I did not hear you .  "  " La , Miss Gray !  do n't you see they are making fun of you ?  " impatiently observed Jane .  " Why , Mrs. Brown had n't been a saying anything at all .  "  Rachel reddened a little , and there was a general laugh at her expense .  The joke was certainly a witty one .  But Mrs. Gray , who was a touchy woman , was not pleased ; and no sooner were her amiable visitors gone , than she gave it to Rachel for having been laughed at with insolent rudeness .  " If you were not sich a simpleton , " she said , in great anger , " people would n't dare to laugh at you .  They would n't take the liberty .  No one ever laughed at me , I can tell you .  No Mrs. Brown ; no , nor no Mrs. Smith either .  But you !  why , they 'lldo anythink to you .  "  Rachel looked up from her work into her mother 'sface .  It rose to her lips to say — " If you were not the first to make little of me , would others dare to do so ?  " but she remembered her lonely forsaken childhood , and bending once more over her task , Rachel held her peace .  " I want to go to bed , " peevishly said Mary .  " Then go , my dear , " gently replied Rachel .  " You 'llspoil that girl , " observed Mrs. Gray , with great asperity .  " She is not strong , " answered Rachel ; " and I promised Mr. Jones she should not work too much .  "  " Not much fear of that , " drily said Jane , as the door closed on Mary .  No one answered .  Rachel worked ; her mother read the paper , and for an hour there was deep silence in the parlour .  As the church clock struck nine , a knock came at the door .  Jane opened , and a rosy , good-humoured looking man entered the parlour .  He was about forty , short , stout , with rather a low forehead , and stubby hair ; altogether , he seemed more remarkable for good-nature than for intelligence .  At once his look went round the room .  " Mary is gone to bed , Mr. Jones , " said Rachel , smiling .  " To bed !  — She ai n't ill , I hope .  Miss Gray , " he exclaimed , with an alarmed start .  " Ill !  Oh , no !  but she felt tired .  I am sorry you have had this long walk for nothing .  "  " Never mind , Miss Gray , " he replied cheerfully ; then sitting down , and wiping his moist brow , he added — " the walk does me good , and then I hear how she is , and I 'vethe pleasure of seeing you all .  And so she 'squite well , is she ?  "  He leaned his two hands on the head of his walking-stick , and looking over it , smiled abstractedly at his own thoughts .  Mrs. Gray roused him with the query —  " And what do you think of the state of the nation , Mr. Jones ?  "  Mr. Jones scratched his head , looked puzzled , hemmed , and at length came out with the candid confession :  " Mrs. Gray , I ai n't no politician .  For all I see , politics only brings a poor man into trouble .  Look at the Chartists , and the tenth of April .  "  " Ah !  poor things !  " sighed Rachel , " I saw them — they passed by here .  How thin they were — bow careworn they looked !  "  Mrs. Gray remained aghast .  Rachel had actually had the audacity to give an opinion on any subject unconnected with dress-making — and even on that , poor girl !  she was not always allowed to speak .  " Now , Rachel , " she said , rallying , " will you hold your tongue , and speak of what you know , and not meddle with politics .  "  We must apologize for using italics , but without their aid we never could convey to our readers a proper idea of the awful solemnity with which Mrs. Gray emphasized her address .  Rachel was rather bewildered , for she was not conscious of having said a word on politics , a subject she did not understand , and never spoke on ; but she had long learned the virtue of silence .  She did not reply .  " As to the Chartists ?  " resumed Mrs. Gray , turning to Mr. Jones .  " Law bless you , Mrs. Gray , I ai n't one of them !  " he hastily replied .  " I mind my own business — that 'swhat I do , Mrs. Gray .  The world must go round , you know .  "  " So it must , " gravely replied that lady .  " You never said a truer thing , Mr. Jones .  "  And very likely Mr. Jones had not .  " And I must go off , " said Mr. Jones , rising with a half-stifled sigh , " for it 'sgetting late , and I have five miles to walk .  "  And , undetained by Mrs. Gray 'sslow but honest entreaty to stay and share their supper , he left Rachel lighted him out .  As she closed the parlour door , he looked at her , and lowering his voice , he said hesitatingly :  " I could n't see her , could I , Miss Gray ?  "  Poor Rachel hesitated .  She knew that she should get scolded if she complied ; but then , he looked at her with such beseeching eyes — he wished for it so very much .  Kindness prevailed over fear ; she smiled , and treading softly , led the way up-stairs .  As softly , he followed her up into the little back room .  Mary was fast asleep ; her hands were folded over the coverlet of variegated patchwork ; her head lay slightly turned on the white pillow ; the frill of her cap softly shaded her pale young face , now slightly flushed with sleep .  Her father bent over her with fond love , keeping in his breath .  Rachel held the light ; she turned her head away , that Mr. Jones might not see her eyes , fest filling with tears .  " Oh !  my father — my father !  " she thought , " never have you looked so at your child — never — never !  "  On tip-toe , Mr. Jones softly withdrew , and stole downstairs .  " I 'dhave kissed her , " he whispered to Rachel , as she opened the door for him , " but it might have woke her out of that sweet sleep .  "  And away he went , happy to have purchased , by a ten miles walk after a day 'shard labour , that look at his sleeping child .  " Oh , Lord !  how beautiful is the love Thou hast put into the hearts of Thy creature !  " thought Rachel Gray ; and though it had not been her lot to win that love , the thought was to her so sweet and so lovely , that she bore without repining her expected scolding .  " Mrs. Gray had never heard of such a think — never .  "  CHAPTER V.  The rich man has his intellect , and its pleasures ; he has his books , his studies , his club , his lectures , his excursions ; he has foreign lands , splendid cities , galleries , museums , ancient and modern art : the poor man has his child , solitary delight of his hard tasked life , only solace of his cheerless home .  Richard Jones had but that one child , that peevish , sickly , fretful little daughter ; but she was his all .  He was twenty-one , when the grocer in whose shop his youth had been spent , died a bankrupt , leaving one child , a daughter , a pale , sickly young creature of seventeen , called Mary Smith .  Richard Jones had veneration large .  He had always felt for this young lady an awful degree of respect , quite sufficient of itself to preclude love , had he been one to know this beautiful feeling by more than hearsay — which he was not .  Indeed , he never could or would have thought of Mary Smith as something less than a goddess , if , calling at the house of the relative to whom she had gone , and finding her in tears , and , on her own confession , very miserable , he had not felt moved to offer himself , most hesitatingly , poor fellow I for her acceptance .  Miss Smith gave gracious consent .  They were married , and lived most happily together .  Poor little Mary 'stemper was none of the best ; but Richard made every allowance : " Breaking down of the business — other 'sdeath — having to marry a poor fellow like him , etc. " In short , he proved the most humble and devoted of husbands , toiled like a slave to keep his wife like a lady , and never forgot the honour she had conferred upon him ; to this honour Mrs. Jones added , after three years , by presenting him with a sickly baby , which , to its mother 'sname of Mary , proudly added that of its maternal grandfather Smith .  A year after the birth of Mary Smith Jones , her mother died .  The affections of the widower centred on his child ; he had , indeed , felt more awe than fondness for his deceased wife — love had never entered his heart ; he earned it with him , pure and virgin , to the grave , impressed with but one image — that of his daughter .  He reared his little baby alone and unaided .  Once , indeed , a female friend insisted on relieving him from the charge ; but , after surrendering his treasure to her , after spending a sleepless night , he rose with dawn , and went and fetched back his darling .  During his wife 'slifetime , he had been employed in a large warehouse ; but now , in order to stay at home , he turned basket-maker .  His child slept with him , cradled in his arms ; he washed , combed , dressed it himself every morning , and made a woman of himself for its sake .  When Mary grew up , her father sent her to school , and resumed his more profitable out-door occupation .  After a long search and much deliberation , he prenticed her to Rachel Gray , and with her Mary Jones had now been about a month .  " How pretty she looked , with that bit of pink on her cheek , " soliloquized Richard Jones , as he turned round the corner of the street on his way homewards ; and fairer than his mistress 'simage to the lover 'sfancy , young Mary 'sface rose before her father on the gloom of the dark night .  A woman 'svoice suddenly broke on his reverie .  She asked him to direct her to the nearest grocer 'sshop .  " I am a stranger to the neighbourhood , " he replied ; " but I dare say this young person can tell us ; " and he stopped a servant-girl , and put the question to her .  " A grocer 'sshop ?  " she said , " there 'snot one within a mile .  You must go down the next street on your right-hand , turn into the alley on your left , then turn to your right again , and if you take the fifth street after that , it will take you to the Teapot .  "  She had to repeat her directions twice before the woman fairly understood them .  " What a chance !  " thought Jones , as he again walked on ; " not a grocer 'sshop within a mile .  Now , suppose I had , say fifty pounds , just to open with , how soon the thing would do for itself .  And then I 'dhave my little Mary at home with me .  Yes , that would be something !  "  Ay ; the shop and Mary !  — ambition and love !  Ever since he had dealt tea and sugar in Mr. Smith 'sestablishment , Richard Jones had been haunted with the desire to become a tradesman , and do the same thing in a shop of his own .  But , conscious of the extravagant futility of this wish , Jones generally consoled himself with the thought that grocer 'sshops were as thick as mushrooms , and that , capital or no capital , there was no room for him .  And now , as he walked home , dreaming , he could not but sigh , for there was room , he could not doubt it — but where was the capital ?  He was still vaguely wondering in his own mind , by what magical process the said capital could possibly be called up , when he reached his own home .  There he found that , in his absence , a rudely scrawled scrap of paper had been slipped under his room door ; it was to the following purport : " Dear J . , " Als up ; farm broke . Weral inn for it . " Yours , " S. S. "  " Dear J .  ,  " Als up ; farm broke .  Weral inn for it .  " Yours , " S. S. "  This laconic epistle signified that the firm in whose warehouse Richard Jones was employed , had stopped payment Rich men lost their thousands , and eat none the worse a dinner ; Richard Jones lost his week 'swages , his future employment , and remained stunned with the magnitude of the blow .  His first thought flew to his child .  " How shall I pay Miss Gray for my little Mary 'skeep ?  " he exclaimed , inwardly .  He cast his look round the room to see what he could pledge or sell .  Alas !  there was little enough there .  His next feeling was ,  " My darling must know nothing about it Thank God , she is not with me now !  Thank God !  "  But , though this was some sort of comfort , the future still looked so dark and threatening , that Jones spent a sleepless night , tossing in his bed , and groaning so loudly , that his landlady forsook her couch to knock at his door , and inquire , to his infinite confusion , " if Mr. Jones felt poorly , and if there was anything she could do for him , and if he would like some hot ginger ?  " To which Mr. Jones replied , with thanks , " that he was quite well , much obliged to her all the same .  "  After this significant hint , he managed to keep quiet .  Towards morning , he fell asleep , and dreamed he had found a purse full of guineas , and that he was going to open a grocer 'sshop , to be called the Teapot .  Richard Jones was sober , intelligent enough for what he had to do , and not too intelligent — which is a great disadvantage ; he bore an excellent character ; and yet , somehow or other , when he searched for employment , there seemed to be no zoom for him ; and had he been a philosopher , which , most fortunately for his peace of mind , he was not , he must inevitably hare come to the conclusion , that in this world he was not wanted .  We are not called upon to enter into the history of his struggles .  He maintained a sort of precarious existence , now working at this , now working at that ; for he was a Jack of all trades , and could torn his hand to anything , but certain of no continual employment .  How he went through it all , still paying Miss Gray , still keeping up a decent appearance , contracting no debts , the pitying eye which alone looks down on the bitter trials of the poor , also alone knows .  The poorer a man gets , the more he thinks of wealth and money ; the narrower does the world close around him , and all the wider grows the world of his charms .  The shop , which had only been a dormant idea in Richard Jones 'smind , now became a living phantom ; day and night , mom and noon it haunted him .  When he had nothing to do — and this was , unfortunately , too often the case — he sought intuitively the suburb where Rachel Gray dwelt ; ascertained , over and over , that within the mile circuit of that central point there did not exist one grocer 'sshop , and finally determined that the precise spot where , for public benefit and its own advantage , a grocer 'sshop should be , was just round the corner of the street next to that of Rachel Gray , in a dirty little house , now occupied by a rag and bottle establishment , with very dirty windows , and a shabby black doll dangling like a thief , over the doorway ; spite of which enticing prospect , the rag and bottle people seemed to thrive but indifferently , if one might judge from the sulky , ill-tempered looking woman , whom Jones always saw within , sorting old rags , and scowling at him whenever she caught him in the act of peering in .  It was , therefore , with no surprise , though with some uneasiness , that coming one day to linger as usual near the place , James found the rag and bottle shop closed , the black doll gone , and the words , " To let " scrawled , in white chalk , on the shutters .  Convinced that none but a grocer could take such a desirable shop , and desirous , at least , to know when this fated consummation was to take place , Jones took courage , and went on as far as Rachel Gray 's.  Jane , the grim apprentice , opened to him ,  " There 'sno one at home , " she said .  Mr. Jones pleaded fatigue , and asked to be permitted to rest awhile .  She did not oppose his entrance , but grimly repelled all his attempts at opening a conversation .  He entered on that most innocent topic , the weather , and praised it .  " It has been raining , " was Jane 'semphatic reply .  " Oh !  has it ?  What 'sthem bells ringing for , I wonder .  "  " They aint a ringing ; they 'rea tolling .  "  Mr. Jones , rather confused at being thus put down by a girl of sixteen , coughed behind his hand , and looked round the room for a subject .  He found none , save a general inquiry after the health of Mary , Mrs. Gray , and Miss Gray .  " They 'reall well enough , " disdainfully replied Jane .  " Oh , are they !  I see the rag and bottle shop is shut , " he added , plunging desperately into the subject .  " S'pose it is !  " answered Jane , eyeing him rather defiantly ; for the rag and bottle woman was her own aunt ; and she thought the observation of a personal nature .  Though much taken aback , Jones , spurred on by the irresistible wish to know , ventured on another question .  " You do n't know who is going to take it next , do you ?  "  " Oh !  you want to take it , do you ?  " said Jane .  " I — I !  " exclaimed Jones , flurried and disconcerted .  " La , bless the young woman !  I aint in the rag and bottle line , am I ?  "  He thought by this artful turn to throw his young enemy off the scent ; but her rejoinder showed him the futility of the attempt .  " I did n't say you was , did I ?  " she replied , drily .  Jones rose precipitately , and hastily desiring his love to Mrs. Gray , and his respects to Mary , he retreated most shamefully beaten .  He did not breathe freely until he reached the end of the street , and once more found himself opposite the closed rag shop .  How he had come there , he did not rightly know ; for it was not his way home .  But , being there , he naturally gave it another look .  He stood gazing at it very attentively , and absorbed in thought , when he was roused by a sharp voice , which said ,  " P'raps you 'dlike to see it within .  "  The voice came from above .  Richard looked up .  The first floor window was open , and a man 'shead was just thrust out of it .  It looked down at him in the street , and apparently belonged to a little old man , to whom one very sharp eye — the other was closed up quite tight — and a long nose , which went all of one side , gave a rather remarkable appearance .  " Thank you , sir , " replied Jones , rather confused .  " I — I — "  Before he had got to the end of his speech , the old man vanished from the window , and suddenly appeared at the private door , beckoning him in .  " Come in , " he said , coaxingly , like an ogre luring in an unwary little boy .  And , drawn as by a magnet , Jones entered .  " Dark passage , but good shop , " said the old man .  He opened a door , and in the shop suddenly stepped Richard Jones .  It was small , dirty , and smelt of grease and old rags .  " Good shop , " said the old man , rubbing his hands , in seeming great glee ; " neat back parlour ; " he opened a glass door , and Jones saw a triangular room , not much larger than a good-sized cupboard .  " More rooms up stairs , " briskly said the old man ; he nimbly darted up an old wooden staircase , that creaked under him .  Mechanically Jones followed .  There were two rooms on the upper and only storey ; one of moderate size ; the other , a little larger than the back parlour .  " Good shop , " began the old man , reckoning on his fingers , " ca-pital shop ; neat parlour — very neat ; upper storey , two rooms ; one splendid ; cosy bed-room ; rent of the whole , only thirty-five pounds a-year — only thirty-five pounds a-year !  "  The repetition was uttered impressively .  " Thank you — much obliged to you , " began Richard Jones , wishing himself fairly out of the place ; " but you see — "  " Stop a bit , " eagerly interrupted the old man , catching Jones by the button-hole , and fixing him , as the ' Ancient Mariner 'fixed the wedding guest , with his glittering eye , " stop a bit ; you take the house , keep shop , parlour , and bedroom for yourself and family — plenty ; furnish front room , let it at five shillings a week ; fifty-two weeks in the year ; five times two , ten — put down naught , carry one ; five times five , twenty-five , and one , twenty-six — two hundred and sixty shillings , make thirteen pounds ; take thirteen pounds from thirty-five — "  " Law bless you , Sir !  " hastily interrupted Jones , getting frightened at the practical landlord view the one-eyed and one-sided-nosed old man seemed to take of his presence in the house .  " Law bless you , Sir !  it 'sall a mistake , every bit of it .  "  " A mistake !  " interrupted the old man , his voice rising shrill and loud .  " A mistake !  five times two , ten — "  " Well , but I could n't think of such a thing , " in his turn interrupted Jones .  " I — "  " Well then , say thirty pound , " pertinaciously resumed the old man ; " take thirteen from thirty — "  " No , I ca n't then — really , I ca n't , " desperately exclaimed Jones ; " on my word I ca n't .  "  " Well , then , say twenty-five ; from twenty-five take thirteen — "  " I tell you , ' tai n't a bit of use your taking away thirteen at that rate , " interrupted Jones , rather warmly .  " And what will you give , then ?  " asked the old man , with a sort of screech .  " Why , nothing !  " impatiently replied Jones .  " Who ever said I would give anything ?  I did n't — did I ?  "  " Then what do you come creeping and crawling about the place for ?  " hissed the old man , his one eye glaring defiance on Jones , " eh !  just tell me that .  Why , these two months you 'vecrept and crept , and crawled , and crawled , till you 'vesent the rag and bottle people away .  ' Sir , ' says the rag and bottle woman to me , ' Sir , we ca n't stand it no longer .  There 'sa man , Sir , and he prowls around the shop .  Sir , and he jist looks in , and darts off agin , and he wo n't buy no rags , and he has n't no bottles to sell ; and my husband and me , Sir , we ca n't stand it — that 'sall .  ' Well , and what have you got to say to that , I should like to know ?  "  Jones , who never had a very ready tongue , and who was quite confounded at the accusation , remained dumb .  " I 'lltell you what you are , though , " cried the old man , his voice rising still higher with his wrath ; " you are a crawling , creeping , low , sneaking fellow !  "  " Now , old gentleman !  " cried Jones , in his turn losing his temper , " just keep a civil tongue in your head , will you ?  I did n't ask to come in , did I ?  And if I did look at the shop at times , why , a cat can look at a king , ca n't he ?  "  Spite of the excellence of the reasoning thus popularly expressed , Jones perceived that the old man was going to renew his offensive language , and as he wisely mistrusted his own somewhat hasty temper , he prudently walked downstairs , and let himself out .  But then he reached the street , the old man 'shead was already out of the first-floor window , and Jones turned the corner pursued with the words " creeping , " " crawling .  " He lost the rest .  CHAPTER VI .  Rachel sat alone , working and thinking .  The dull street was silent ; the sound and stir of morning , alive elsewhere , reached it not ; but the sky was clear and blue , and on that azure field mounted the burning sun , gladdening the very house-roofs as he went , and filling with light and life the quiet parlour of Rachel Gray .  Mrs. Gray was an ignorant woman , and she spoke bad English ; but her literary tastes were superior to her education and to her language .  Her few books were good — they were priceless ; they included the poetical works of one John Milton .  Whether Mrs. Gray understood him in all his beauty and sublimity , we know not , but at least , she read him , seriously , conscientiously — and many a fine lady cannot say as much .  Rachel , too , read Milton , and loved him as a fine mind must ever love that noble poet .  That very morning , she had been reading one of his sonnets , too little read , and too little known .  We will give it here , for though , of course , all our readers are already acquainted with it , it might not be present to their memory .  " When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days , in this dark world and wide , And that one talent which is death to hide , Lodg 'dwith me useless , though my soul more bent , To serve therewith my Maker , and present My true account , lest he , returning , chide ; ' Doth God exact day-labour , light denied ?  ' I fondly ask : but Patience to prevent That murmur , soon replies , ' God doth not need Either man 'swork , or his own gifts ; who best Bear his mild yoke , they serve him best ; his state Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed , And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; They also serve , who only stand and wait '"  " ' They also serve who only stand and wait , ' "  thought Rachel , brooding over the words , as was her wont , " and that is my case .  Oh , God !  I stand and wait , and alas !  I do nothing , for I am blind , and ignorant , and helpless , and what am I that the Lord should make use of me ; yet , in His goodness , my simple readiness to do His will , He takes as good service .  Oh , Rachel !  happy Rachel !  to serve so kind a master .  "  Her work dropt on her lap ; and so deep was her abstraction , that she heard not the door opening , and saw not Richard Jones , until he stood within a few paces of her chair .  She gave a slight start on perceiving him ; and her nervous emotion was not lessened , by remarking that he was rather pale and looked excited .  " Mary is very well , " she said , hastily , and half smiling at the supposed alarm which had , she thought , brought him so suddenly in upon her .  " Of course she is — of course she is , " he replied , nodding ; then , drawing a chair near to Rachel 's, he sat down upon it , and , bending forward , with his two hands resting on his knees , he said , in a deep , impressive whisper ,  " Miss Gray , may I speak to you ?  I want you to advise me , " he added , after a slight pause .  " To advise you , Mr. Jones !  " echoed Rachel , looking up at him , with mild astonishment .  " Yes , Miss Gray , " he firmly replied ; and , slightly clearing his throat , he thus began : " Miss Gray , I aint a known you very long ; but there aint another in this wide world whom I respect as I do you .  And I think I have proved it ; for have n't I given you my little Mary ?  I could n't do more , Miss Gray , " he added , with energetic earnestness .  " Yes , Miss Gray , I do respect you ; and that is why I want you to advise me .  Now , this is the whole story : —  " From a boy , Miss Gray , I have wished to be in business .  I was in business at Mr. Smith 's, Mr. Smith was the grandfather of my little Mary , but not on my account ; and that 'snot quite the same thing , you see .  And I have wished to be in the grocery line , in particular , because of understanding it so much better , from having been brought up to it , like .  Now , Miss Gray , here 'sthe plain truth of the case .  Some time ago , I found out , by chance , that there was not — actually , that there was not a grocer 'sshop in this immediate vicinity !  " Here Mr. Jones held up his forefinger by way of note of admiration .  " Well , Miss Gray , " he resumed impressively , " that thought haunted me .  Why here was the very place for me !  A grocer was wanted .  I found out , too , that the rag and bottle shop round the corner was just the place for me , and the people left , too ; but bless you .  Miss Gray , ' t was all not a bit of use — for why — I had n't got no capital !  Well , Miss Gray , to make a long story short , a cousin of mine has just died , and left me all she had , poor thing , and that was sixty pound .  Now , Miss Gray , what I want to know is this : — do you think that as a father — that is , the father of my little Mary — I 'mjustified in risking that money by setting up a shop , or that it 'smy duty to keep it all up for the child ?  "  He looked earnestly in Rachel 'sface .  Ay , the child ; it was still the child , and always the child .  His own was not his own — it was but a trust held for his little Mary .  " Truly , Mr. Jones , " said Rachel , smiling , " you can do what you like with your own .  "  " No , indeed , Miss Gray , " he rejoined , a little warmly , " I must think of my little Mary first ; and you see the whole question is , which is best for her .  Why , I aint slep these three nights with thinking on it , and so , at last , I thought I 'dcome to you .  "  Who had ever asked Rachel for advice !  Rachel the simpleton — Rachel the slighted and laughed-at dressmaker ?  Little did Mr. Jones know how nervous he made the poor girl ; besides , she felt quite bewildered at the strange views he took of the case he submitted to her .  At length she gathered courage , and looking earnestly in his face with her mild brown eyes , she spoke .  " Mr. Jones , " she said , " it seems to me that as the money is yours , and that as your intentions are to turn it to a good account , you have a right to do with it as you please .  I think , too , that you are likely to do very well as a grocer , for we really do want one about here .  But I only tell you what I think .  I do not advise .  I really cannot .  If you want advice , Mr. Jones , why , ask it of one who cannot mistake , for He is not liable to human error — ask it of God Almighty .  "  Richard Jones scratched his head , then hung it down ashamed .  If he had dared , he would have asked of Rachel how he was to ask of God to advise him , and , especially , how he was to get the answer !  Poor fellow !  he had an excellent hearty some faith , much charity , but the world 'snet was around him .  His life was not like that of Rachel Gray — a heaven upon earth .  And Rachel , who laboured under the disadvantages of a narrow education , and a narrow life , who had not enough knowledge and enough experience of human nature to understand clearly that there were states of mind worlds lower than her own , did not suspect that she had given Richard Jones the worst of all advice — that which the receiver cannot follow .  Alas !  who talks of God now !  who listens like Adam in Eden to the voice of the Lord , and treasures in his or her own heart that source of all knowledge ?  And we complain that God goes away from us ; that His face is dark , and behind the cloud ; that in the days of adversity we find him not .  Jones rose confused , muttered thanks , then hastily changed the subject by asking to see his daughter .  Even as he spoke , the door opened , and Mary entered .  She did not show much pleasure or surprise on seeing her father ; it was not that she did not love him , but she was a spoiled child , too much accustomed to his fondness and devotion to set great value on either .  She complained of the heat , then of the cold , sat down , got up again , and gave herself all the airs of a precocious woman .  Her father , leaning on his stick , looked at her with admixing fondness , and occasionally nodded and winked at Rachel , as if inviting her to admire likewise .  At length , with a half stifled sigh — for he never parted from his darling without regret — he again said he must go .  " And so , good-bye , my little Mary , " he added , kissing her , but the peevish child half-turned her head away , and said his beard hurt her .  " You hear her , Miss Gray , " he exclaimed , chuckling , " does not care a pin for her old father , not a pin , " and chucking Mary 'schin , he looked down at her fondly .  " Dear me , father , how can you ?  " asked the young lady , rather pettishly .  Upon which , Mr. Jones shook his head , looked delighted , and at length managed to tear himself away .  " And is it thus , indeed , that fathers love their daughters ?  " thought Rachel Gray , as she sat alone in the little back room on the evening of that day .  " And is it thus , indeed !  Oh !  my father — my father !  "  She laid down the book she had been attempting to read .  She leaned her brow upon her hand ; she envied none , but her heart felt full to over-flowing .  Since the night when she had gone to look at her father , as we have recorded , Rachel had not felt strong or courageous enough to attempt more .  Her nature was timid , sensitive and shrinking to a fault , and circumstances had made it doubly so , yet the repeated sight of Richard Jones 'sdevoted love for his child , inspired her with involuntary hope .  She had grown up in the belief of her father 'srooted indifference ; might she not have been mistaken ?  was it not possible that his daughter could become dear to Thomas Gray , as other daughters were dear to their father ?  Rachel had always cherished the secret hope that it would one day be so , but because that hope was so precious , she had deferred risking it , lest it should perish irretrievably .  She now felt inwardly urged to make the attempt .  Why should she not , like the prodigal son , rise and go to her father ?  " I will , " she thought , clasping her hands , her cheeks flushing , her eyes kindling , " yes , I will go to-morrow , and my father shall know his daughter ; and , perhaps , who knows , perhaps God Almighty will bless me .  "  Here the sound of a sudden tumult in the little court close by , broke on the dream of Rachel Gray .  She looked , and she saw and heard Madame Rose gesticulating and scolding , to the infinite amusement of a crowd of boys , who where teazing the idiot girl .  The wrath of Madame Rose was something to see .  Having first placed her protege behind herself for safety — as if her own little body could do much for the protection of another twice its size — Madame Rose next put herself in an attitude , then expostulated with , then scolded , then denounced the persecutors of the helpless idiot ; after which washing her hands of them , she walked backwards to her cellar , scorning to turn her back to the foe .  But the enemy , nothing daunted , showed evident intentions of besieging her in her stronghold , and though Madame Rose made her appearance at the window , armed with a broomstick , she failed to strike that terror into the hearts of her assailants , which the formidable nature of the weapon warranted .  Fortunately , however , for the peace of the little French lady , that valiant knight-errant of modern times , the policeman , having made his appearance at the entrance of the court , a scutter , then a rushing flight , were the immediate consequence .  Ignorant of this fact , Madame Rose ascribed the result entirely to her own prowess , and in all peace of mind proceeded to cook her supper .  Then followed the little domestic scenes which Rachel liked to watch .  As Rachel looked , she took a bold resolve , and this was to pay Madame Rose a visit .  They had met , the day before , in the street ; and Madame Rose had addressed a long and voluble discourse to Rachel , in French , concluding with an invitation to visit her , which Rachel had understood , and smilingly accepted .  And now was the favourable moment to carry this project into effect .  From the little room , Rachel heard Mrs. Brown 'sloud voice below in the parlour .  Mrs. Gray was fully engaged , and not likely to mind her daughter 'sabsence .  Unheeded , Rachel slipped out .  A few minutes brought her round to the little courts and to the house inhabited by Madame Rose .  It was dingy , noisy , and dirty ; and as she groped and stumbled down the dark staircase , Rachel half repented haying come .  The voice of Madame Rose directed her to the right door — for there were several .  She knocked gently ; a shrill " entrez , " which she rightly interpreted as a summons to enter , was uttered from within ; and pushing the door open , Rachel found herself in the abode and presence of Madame Rose .  She was received with a storm of enthusiasm , that rather bewildered than pleased her .  Madame Rose welcomed her in a torrent of speech , with a multiplicity of nods , and winks , and shrugs , and exclamations , so novel in the experience of Rachel Gray , that she began to wonder how much truth there might be in the epithet occasionally bestowed on Madame Rose .  For , first of all , she insisted on cooking a dish of onion soup for her expressly , a kindness which Rachel had all the trouble in the world to resist ; and next , this point settled , she was loud and unceasing in the praise of the poor idiot girl , who sat mowing in her chair .  Rachel went and sat near her , and spoke to her , but she only got an unintelligible murmur for a reply .  Madame Rose shook her head , as much as to say that the attainments of Mimi — so she called her — did not include speech .  But Mimi was very good — very good indeed , only she could not talk , which was " bien dommage , " added Madame Rose , as , had she only been able to speak , Mimi would certainly have done it charmingly .  " You should see her eating onion soup , " enthusiastically added Madame Rose .  " It is beautiful !  " Then , seeing that Rachel was engaged in scrutinizing , with a pitying glance , the ragged attire of her protege , Madame Rose jealously informed her that , as yet , the toilette of Mimi had been a little neglected , certainly ; but that , " with time , and the help of God , " added Madame Rose , " Mimi should want for nothing .  "  " I have an old dress at home , that will just do for her , " timidly said Rachel " Shall I bring it to-morrow night ?  "  Madame Rose coughed dubiously — she had not understood ; but a perfect knowledge of the English tongue , in all its most delicate intricacies , was one of her vanities .  So , bending her head of one side , and patting her ear , as if to imply that there lay the fault , she evidently requested Rachel to repeat She did so ; and this time , Madame Rose caught enough of her meaning to misunderstand her .  " I understand — I understand !  " she exclaimed , triumphantly ; and settling Mimi in her chair , she told her to be good , for that she was only going to fetch her an elegant dress presented to her by the goodness of Mademoiselle , and that she would be back in an incredibly short space of time ; after which exhortation , Madame Rose prepared to accompany Rachel .  In vain , poor Rachel , alarmed at the prospect of her mother 'sanger , endeavoured to explain that she would bring the dress .  Madame Rose , still triumphantly asserting that she understood , insisted on going out with her guest , and actually walked with her to her very door .  In great trepidation , Rachel opened it , and unconscious of peril or offence , Madame Rose entered , clattering along the passage in her wooden shoes ; but Mrs. Brown 'svoice was just then at the loudest ; the noise was not heeded .  Rachel took her up-stairs to the little back-room , and left her there , whilst she looked in the room which she shared with her mother , for the dress she wished to give Mimi ; she soon came back with it , tied in a parcel , and now devoutly wished that she could see Madame Rose safe out of the place .  But Madame Rose was in no mood to go .  She had recognized the room and window where she so often saw Rachel ; and she intimated as much , by a lively pantomime ; first taking up a book , she held it before her , pretending to read ; then she pointed to her forehead , to imply that Rachel was a thinker ; and finally , to the horror and dismay of Rachel , Madame Rose shut her eyes , opened her mouth , and warbled a sufficiently correct imitation of the old hundredth .  The window was open ; and even Mrs. Brown 'svoice could not drown these strange tones .  They reached the ear of Mrs. Gray ; and before Rachel had fairly recovered from the surprise and alarm into which the musical outburst of Madame Rose had thrown her , her step-mother appeared at the door of the little back room , and , in stern and indignant accents , asked to know the meaning of what she heard and saw .  But , before Rachel could reply , the French costume of Madame Rose had betrayed her .