Harry entered the store, and as he
crossed the threshold—before he had
time to scan the sharp features of the
proprietor, who stood quietly leaning
over the glass case on the counter—
there passed by him a young woman,
poorly dressed, her face hidden by a
thick green veil. Her faded garments
brushed him, as he entered; and, ere he
could look around, she had passed through
the door and disappeared.

What was it about the young woman
which, even as her garments brushed
against him filled him with a sudden
and inexplicable interest? The gas-light
shone fully upon her, but did not disclose
her features—did Harry obtain a
glimpse of her countenance through the
thickly covered veil?

“Shirts, sir?” smirked the bland proprietor,
who was a little man, with sharp
nose and gold spectacles. “Shirts of all
sizes, patterns and prices—returned from
California, I presume, sir?”

“Who was that young lady?” asked
Harry, keeping one eye upon the shirt
man, and the other upon the door.

“Don't know her name—works for
me—just paid her off—pay well here,
sir, four shillings for two shirts—here
they are—best quality—take a look at
them!”

Harry did not reply to the gentleman,
but, turning on his heel, left the store,
and anxiously gazed up and down Canal-street.

He caught a glimpse of the summer

[figure description] Page 098.[end figure description]

bonnet which the young woman wore,
about a hundred yards away, in the direction
of the North River. At once
he hurried after her, determined to track
her footsteps and follow her to her home.

Now, as Harry was a sound, honest
man, he could have had no improper intentions
in this pursuit, but was evidently
prompted by an indefinable
impulse, or a wild delusion. Why need
we describe in detail the wild chase which
she led him?

She entered one of the red cars which
run on West Broadway, Hudson-street,
and the Eighth avenue; Harry followed
her, but could not get a seat near her.
She sat in an opposite corner, out of the
light and in the shadow, her veil still
closely drawn over her face. The car
went on its way; the conductor, a slim
person, filled with a due sense of the
awful responsibility of his situation,
bristled along collecting fares, letting fat
gentlemen out, and nervous ladies in;
and now and then shaking up a drunken
man, who fell asleep and snored like a
trombone. The car went on its way up
Hudson-street, and into the remote regions
of the Eighth avenue, where the
night is made musical by the combined
bark of a thousand dogs; and still Harry,
very nervous and impatient, could not
obtain a sight of the unknown woman's
face.

At last the passengers were reduced
to two, Harry and the young woman,
who sat with closed veil and folded hands,
opposite him.

“I wonder if she never intends to get
out, or if she is going on to the North
Pole?” grumbled Harry to himself, when
the woman in the straw bonnet rose,
rang the bell, and, in a moment, hurried
from the car.

Harry at once followed her, and found
himself in that peculiar region which is
not above Seventieth-street, nor below
Thirtieth; where it is, precisely, isn't
any one's business.

It is a region extending from the avenue
to the Hudson River, and over its
broken surface old-fashioned country
seats vainly endeavor to maintain their
position against flimsy modern structures,
of all sizes, from a hencoop to a
barn, and built not so much with a view
to comfort or architectural beauty as for
the purpose of extracting the greatest
amount of rent from the neediest sort of
tenants.

By day this region rings with the
ceaseless thunder of blasted rocks; by
night, it alarms the distant Jersey shore
with the rich, deep notes of an army of
dogs, whose numbers cannot possibly be
told. Gazing over its varied surface,
from the height of the reservoir, you
are struck with the singular panorama
which it presents. Bogus palaces, truck
gardens, fine old country seats, perched
upon the rocks, wide streets that are by
turns miracles of dust and mud: it looks
like the sketch of a city done very hastily
by an artist who is anxious to do his
work in the least possible time.

It is from this region that, near the
break of day, emerge those mysterious
men who walk between the shafts of a
two-wheeled cart, a harnessed dog on
either hand, and a patient woman pushing
in the rear. Mysterious men, whose
apparition startles belated downtowners
(unfamiliar with the upper region) and
gives rise to the query—“Where in the
mischief do they live?”

Descending from the car, Harry followed
the unknown woman into a neighboring
grocery, whose lighted windows
looked quite cheerful in the surrounding
darkness.

The grocery was one of those kept by
taciturn persons of Teutonic descent,
who speak strong German, and very imperfect
English, never count the half cent
on the shilling in making change, and
sell everything—everything from a glass
of dubious ardent spirits to a sixpence
worth of coal or firewood. Into such a
store, Harry followed the unknown.

The proprietor, a gloomy German,
with unshaven beard, stood behind the
counter, his sad vissage giving a melancholy
hue to various articles, vegetable
and fleshy, which encircled him.

Without raising her veil, the young
woman opened her hand, laid a solitary
half dollar on the counter, and in a low
voice, inaudible to Harry, who stood
watching near the door, made her purchases.

O fashionable dames! who, softly clad
in satin and in velvet, wrapped luxuriously
in finest linen, languidly descending
from your carriages to “shop” at
Stuart's, how you would have stared
had you seen the poor seamstress do

[figure description] Page 099.[end figure description]

her “shopping” in the Teutonic grocery!

A pound of coffee, a pound of sugar,
an armful of firewood, a loaf of bread,
these were her purchases. O softly clad
and fashionable dames! and yet perchance
that poor girl who gathered in
her arms those sticks of firewood, had
blood as precious in her veins as that
which gives its glow to your own lovely
face!

Her purchases made, she—firewood,
coffee and sugar in her arms—left the
store without glancing at Harry. But
Harry, who felt an unusual emotion
about his heart as she passed him, followed
her from the store, and then along
a dark street which led to the Hudson
River, displaying on either hand, under
the dull, heavy night, a large proportion
of building lots to a very small number
of houses.

Along this dreary street, where the
mud was rich and thick, and of the first
quality, Harry Morgan followed the
young woman, who once or twice stopped
and looked back, as though conscious
that she was followed. Harry, however,
kept in the shadow, and cautiously lingered
in her footsteps.

At length she turned from the street
into an open field, from whose distant
extremity a feeble ray struggled from the
window of a miserable tenement. Along
a footpath, soft with mud, and winding
among piles of timber and broken
rocks, the young woman hurried rapidly,
until she came to the narrow door of
the solitary house which stood alone in
a bleak space—where she lingered for a
moment to look back, and then disappeared.

Harry advanced from the shadow to
the window, and, shrouded by the dark
night, looked through an aperture of the
window-curtains. He saw the young
woman standing in a wretched apartment,
light in hand, her darkly attired
form thrown strongly into view by the
bare white walls and uncarpeted floor.
A small sheet-iron stove, a table of unpainted
wood, and two chairs, constituted
the furniture of the place. She
stood there, still veiled, light in hand,
and Harry could mark the pulsations of
her bosom by the movement of her
faded shawl.

After a moment she opened a door,
and disappeared into a second room, and
all was dark.

Certainly Harry's heart thumped and
thumped again, as leaning against the
window-sill he waited for her reappearance.

After a pause she came again, and,
light in hand, knelt before the stove,
and proceeded to make a fire. In doing
this, she lifted her veil and laid her bonnet
on a chair. The candle on the floor
shone upward into her face.

“O my God!” was the ejaculation
which came from Harry's heart as he
leaned against the window-sill, trembling
in every limb as that face was revealed
to him.