ation, the great sin of my
life.'

"She covered her face with her hands and wept softly, and then said, in
a voice shaken by emotion, 'You remember the young girl, Clemence
Graystone, who interested you so strangely, and whom I engaged as
governess, with your sanction. It was to destroy her happiness that this
wicked act was consummated. For a reason which her woman's heart will
too surely tell her, I conceived from the first a violent dislike to the
young teacher. She had not been long in my employ before I began
watching her closely, in the hope of detecting some fault that would
render a sufficient and plausible excuse for my discharging her. I knew
that in such straitened circumstances the position she held was a
lucrative one, and so great was my antipathy to one who had never
knowingly injured me, that I could not bear the thought of benefiting
this orphan girl in the smallest degree. At last, coming to the
conclusion that there was not the slightest hope of discovering anything
against her that would bear inspection, and discovering that she was
every day growing more and more in favor with the entire household, I
resolved quietly to resort to artifice to accomplish that which I could
not hope to bring about in any other way. It was very easy to steal into
the school-room after hours, unobserved, and, after some practice,
imitate her handwriting closely enough to have it pass for genuine with
any one not familiar with it. This I did, and then discharged her. When
you asked the reason, I placed in your hands that which was in itself
enough to blast the character of a young, unprotected girl. But I
repented,' she said, excitedly, watching my face, which at this
unlooked-for revelation must have expressed all the horror and
repugnance I felt. 'Wilfred, don't quite despise me. Forgive me, or I
cannot die in peace.'

"I remembered her condition, then, and soothed her as I would an infant.
Against my entreaties, almost commands, she proceeded with the harrowing
story: 'I felt supremely wretched after I committed this wrong deed, and
at length, after some months, I traced the girl out in the hope of doing
something to aid her, and thus quiet my uneasy conscience. But she had
gone from her former place of residence. A woman who gave her name as
Bailey told me all I wished to know, and I felt quite relieved and
happy. She said the girl's mother had died, and that after a long
illness this Clemence Graystone had gone awa