followed
Mrs. Burton into the parlor, and took a seat.

"You have seen a good deal of trouble, I believe," said the lady,
scanning the girl's face closely. "Yes, madame," said Clemence, briefly.

"This is a world of trouble," she went on, applying her handkerchief to
her eyes. "I, too, have my full share. I am deeply afflicted. Miss
Graystone, I am an unloved wife."

She began to sob hysterically at this announcement, and to weave
backwards and forwards in her chair, while her listener shifted a little
uneasily upon her seat, wondering what could possibly be coming now.

"Yes," she said mournfully, "the man who vowed at the altar to love and
cherish the treasure committed to his keeping, has proved recreant to
the trust reposed in him. Look on this ethereal form, and upon this brow
shadowed with grief, and at these eyes that have grown dim with weeping
for one who is all unworthy of my devotion. Alas! that I should come to
this, who was once surrounded by everything that could make life a
blessing. This hand, that others prized, and sued for in vain, is
unvalued now. On my wedding day, one of my rejected suitors came to my
new-made husband, and exclaimed, in accents of deep despair,--'Charles
Burton, you have won her from those who would have devoted their whole
lives to her service, and counted it as nothing, that they might bask in
the sunlight of her presence; and I warn you, guard well the priceless
jewel. You have forever placed a bar to my happiness in this world, but
if you never cause one feeling of regret for this day to rise in that
gentle bosom, all is well. I can deny myself for one I love better than
life itself.'

"_This_ was the man whose suit I scorned, to listen to that of the
perfidious being whose name I bear. I am a miserable victim. Life is
unsupportable to me. Next spring, if my husband does not return, like
the prodigal, remorseful and repentant, I shall become a missionary, and
give my life for the cause I love."

Here came a renewal of tears and heart-rending sighs. Clemence watched
the woman in undisguised amazement, as she arose and paced the room,
wringing her hands in the most woe-begone manner imaginable. Her wild
appearance immediately suggested the idea that she might be suffering
from temporary aberration of mind.

Clemence rose with a quick thrill of fear. "Since you are indisposed for
company," she said, "perhaps you would not care to be troubled with my
little affairs at pres