Now, I grant you, it is very provoking to be eclipsed by a star _without a name_--moving out of the sphere of "upper-ten"-dom--a woman who never wore a "camel's hair shawl," or owned a diamond in her life; after the expense you have incurred, too, and the fees you have paid to Madame Pompadour and Stewart for the first choice of their Parisian fooleries. It is harrowing to the sensibilities. I appreciate the awkwardness of your position; still, my compassion jogs my invention vainly for a remedy--unless, indeed, you consent to crush such democratic presumption, by _labelling_ the astounding price of the dry-goods upon your aristocratic back.
Look into yonder window! What do you see? Nothing _new_, surely; nothing but what the angels have looked smilingly down upon since the morning stars first sang together; nothing but a loving mother hushing upon her faithful breast a wailing babe, whose little life hangs by a slender thread. Mortal lips have said, "The boy must die!"
A mother's _hope_ never dies. She clasps him closer to her breast, and gazes upward;--food and sleep and rest are forgotten, so that that little flickering taper die not out. Gently upon her soft, warm breast she wooes for it baby slumbers; long, weary nights, up and down the cottage floor she paces, soothing its restless moaning. Suns rise and set--stars pale--seasons come and go;--she heeds them not, so that those languid eyes but beam brightness. Down the meadow--by the brook--on the hill-side--she seeks with him the health-restoring breeze.
God be praised!--health comes at last! What joy to see the rosy flush mantle on the pallid cheek!--what joy to see the shrunken limbs grow round with health!--what joy to see the damp, thin locks grow crisp and glossy!
What matter though the knitting lie neglected, or the spinning-wheel be dumb, so that the soaring kite or bouncing ball but please his boyish fancy, and prompt the gleeful shout? What matter that the coarser fare be _hers_, so that the daintier morsel pass _his_ rosy lip? What matter that _her_ robe be threadbare, so that _his_ graceful limbs be clad in Joseph's rainbow coat? What matter that _her_ couch be hard, so that _his_ sunny head rest nightly on a downy pillow? What matter that _her_ slender purse be empty, so that _his_ childish heart may never know denial?