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174 THE LISTENER. 
“ The sun of my father’s love has set,” said she 
to me, referring, in her own peculiar manner, to the 
greeting she had received; “ but the beautiful stars 
have begun to come out, and lo! they are all suns, 
too, giving light and joy to other planets. He 
was nearer to me — so I lived in his beams ; but 
now, his light, though not his influence, has been 
removed and merged in the glory of God, of 
which glory his spirit was an emanation.” 
All, however, were not able or prepared to ap¬ 
preciate her conduct; and even in her presence 
some would speak contemptuously of the factory 
girl’s life—“of their boarding-house pianos — of 
their libraries, and literary associations.” A slight 
towards her alone only gained from her a smile; but 
when she heard those whom she had learned to re¬ 
spect spoken of in this manner, she would draw up 
her queenly figure, and defend them with heart- 
warm eloquence, until the contemners quailed 
ui\der her just sarcasms. Nor was this all she 
could do for them. She wrote in their behalf, and 
her pen did ample justice to the subjects which in¬ 
spired it, and to her own free spirit. 
“ I am determined to put Helen Conway 
down! ” said Eleanor Sibley, whose home was in 
one of those proud mansions that overlook the 
noble square which is the pride of the New Eng¬ 
land metropolis. “ One would imagine her a very 
princess, or, as a republican, I suppose I must say, 
‘ president’s daughter; ’ she advances her outre 
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