"That night, Lilla fled her home; she could scarce be more desolate or unprotected. The next day found her, foot-sore and weary, in the heart of the great city, startled and trembling like the timid deer fleeing from its pursuers.
"Lilla knew that she was beautiful. She read it in the lengthened gaze of the passers-by. Friendless, houseless and beautiful! God help thee, Lilla!
"In a dark, unhealthy garret sat Lilla! Her face, still lovely, was pale as marble; her fingers flew with lightning rapidity over the coarse work that yielded her only a _shelter_; but there were angel faces, (unseen by her,) smiling approval, and she could clasp those small hands when the day's toil was over, and say '_Our Father_,' with the innocent heart of childhood, and invisible ones had charge to guard her footsteps, and 'He who feedeth the ravens,' gave her 'daily bread.'
"One day she took her little bundle, as usual, to the shop of her employers, and, while waiting for the small pittance due, her eye fell upon an advertisement 'for a housekeeper,' in a newspaper before her. But how could _she_ obtain it? without recommendation, without friends. She resolved to try. Her little hand trembled nervously as she pulled the bell of the large, handsome house. She was preceded by the servant into the library, where sat a fine-looking man in the prime of life. He looked admiringly upon the shrinking, modest face and form before him. She told him, in a few simple words, her history.
"The eccentric old bachelor paused for a moment, then taking her hand, he said, 'I advertised for a _housekeeper_--but I'm more in need of a _wife_. _Will you marry me?_'
"And so Lilla became a happy, honored wife; and if a flush passes over her sweet face when she meets Vincent in the circle of her husband's acquaintances, it is from no lingering feeling of affection for the treacherous heart that held in such, light estimation the sacred name of _orphan_."
"'I incline to think that a girl really in love--one who bore the evident symptoms of the malady--would be thought very improper; yet I have often fancied that there must be a man born in the world for every woman; one whom to see would be to love, to reverence, to adore; one with whom her sympathies would so entirely blend, that she would recognize him at once her true lord. Now and then these pairs come together; and woe to her who meets this other self too late.'"