The elect lady

In a kitchen of moderate size, flagged with slate, humble in its appointments, yet looking scarcely that of a farmhouse-for there were utensils about it indicating necessities more artificial than usually grow upon a farm-with the corner of a white deal table between them, sat two young people evidently different in rank, and meeting upon no level of friendship. The young woman held in her hand a paper, which seemed the subject of their conversation. She was about four- or five-and-twenty, well ...