ife, from which a favored few in this
world only are exempt.

How true it is, as another has written, "none of our lives are dated by
years; the wear and tear of heart and brain, to say nothing of the body,
constitute age."

Clemence felt as if years instead of months had passed over her head
since their bereavement. The blow had fallen unexpectedly, and the
result was Clemence was no longer a happy child, but a sorrowing woman.
She tried to be patient, for there was another who, like Rachael of
old, mourned, and would not be comforted. Clemence felt that her own
grief was light compared to the sorrowing one, whose weary feet were
even then nearing the end of life's journey, nearing the brink of that
river, whose solemn music came to her eager ear like a benediction. The
dim eyes had a strained, wistful gaze, as if longing to behold the
radiant glories of that "land of pure delight."

The girl felt, sometimes, as she looked at the drooping, attenuated
figure, each day growing more ethereal, that her burden was greater than
she could bear. An awful fear haunted her, that she would not give a
name, and often, when she had thought of the future till she grew sick
with fear, she had felt that work would be a positive relief to her
troubled mind.

It was during one of these despondent moods, that she determined, in
spite of a former resolution to the contrary, to make another effort to
obtain employment as governess.

Looking carefully over the column of wants in a daily paper, she found
several advertisements, such as she was in search of. She copied the
address of each one of them, and this accomplished, took from its
receptacle the diploma awarded her at the celebrated Institute from
which she had graduated with high honors, and which was sufficient proof
of her education and accomplishments. Notwithstanding her previous
disappointments, she felt hopeful of success.

The first place on her list took her to a stylish residence on a
fashionable avenue. It reminded her of the luxurious home of which she
was once the petted darling, and the contrast with her present humble
position was humiliating in the extreme. She stood for some moments upon
the steps, waiting to gather courage to enter.

It was in a maze of bewilderment that she found herself a few moments
after, seated in a splendid drawing-room, awaiting the appearance of the
mistress of the mansion.

Presently there was the sound of voices, low and musical, a