le to you, that you should do a cowardly act for fear of them."

She raised her head proudly, and gave, perhaps, a more than usually
distant bend of the head to the gentleman's respectful bow. The lady
gave her only a stare of astonishment, and they had scarcely passed,
when she heard these words distinctly:

"How shocking! _Did_ you see that horrid creature with Miss Graystone?
It must be her mother. I declare, if I had have known she had such low
relations, I never would have engaged her."

"Gracia, hush! I entreat you, Miss Graystone will overhear you."

If Clemence's face crimsoned at the words, the one beside her became
absolutely livid with rage. Mrs. Bailey had once been a beauty, and the
black eyes that now glowed with baleful fire, had, in years gone by,
glanced languishingly upon scores of admiring swains. But there was now
nothing left of fortune, fair looks, or friends, but a bitter memory
that rankled in the woman's heart. Realizing that her own youth had
flown, she hated all that was young, and lovely, and pure, as a reproach
to her mis-spent life. She was a keen observer of people, too, in her
strange way, and had read upon the ingenuous face before her, the
momentary temptation to shun her unwelcome society.

The delicacy of Clemence's manner, instead of arousing her gratitude,
had the effect which it sometimes has upon people who realize their own
inferiority, and she resolved to wound her where she guessed a young
girl's feelings were peculiarly sensitive.

Ignoring the remarks which she had heard Mrs. Vaughn making upon her own
appearance, she turned and gazed over her shoulder, as the pair ascended
the steps and entered the door, through which Clemence had but just
passed.

"Why, they're goin' into the same house you came out of, Miss Graystone!
Who be they, now?"

Clemence informed her that the lady was Mrs. Vaughn, to whose children
she gave instruction, and the gentleman was Mr. Wilfred Vaughn, the
step-brother of her late husband.

"No, is it?" said Mrs. Bailey; "ain't he a handsome man?" studying the
girl's face closely.

Clemence agreed with her in thinking Mr. Vaughn a handsome and
distinguished looking gentleman.

"Is he married?" was the next question.

Clemence replied in the negative.

"Be you much acquainted with him?" queried her tormentor.

"But very little," was the laconic reply.

"Well, let me give you a little advice, young lady," said Mrs. Bailey,
after a disagre