rl. Men are proverbially inconstant, and Wilfred
will soon forget all about this Miss Graystone. It was but a passing
fancy, and I have taken the wisest course to get rid of her. I dare say
she will get along well enough, and marry somebody in her own sphere in
life. She _was_ pretty and dignified with that reserved manner, and the
clear eyes under the broad, full brow. But she had horridly low
relations, and as I know, from sad experience, self-preservation is the
first instinct of humanity. Gracia Vaughn, you must not forget the old
days of poverty, and toil, and vexation over the piano in Madame Fay's
back parlor, where you were an under-paid music teacher! Be careful
that an unwary step does not precipitate you again into the depths from
which Cecil Vaughn rescued you! That would be misery, indeed, after
these long years of luxurious idleness. It shall never be."

CHAPTER IV.

It was the twilight of a dismal November day. The wind shrieked and
moaned drearily, and what had been a cold, penetrating rain, had, as the
darkness set in, frozen as it fell, and added to the general
cheerlessness. The streets were nearly deserted, and the few
pedestrians, whom business compelled to be abroad, hurried on swiftly to
their respective places of destination.

At the window of a dingy looking brick building, which bore on its
time-worn exterior its true character of that resort for friendless
poverty, "a cheap lodging house," sat Clemence Graystone, gazing
abstractedly into the gathering gloom of the night. The fair, patient
face was clouded with care, and somewhat of the darkness of the world
without, seemed to have settled upon her spirits.

"I hear the howl of the wind that brings
The long, drear storm on its heavy wings,"

she said, at length, rising and gliding to the side of the couch upon
which a slight figure reclined, asked fondly,

"Mamma, what shall I read to you this evening? I feel strangely
depressed."

The gentle lady drew the sweet face down to her pillow, and smoothed the
bright hair with loving tenderness.

"My precious daughter," she whispered, "I know all the care and anxiety
that weighs down your young life. I can read it in your clear, truthful
eyes, that never yet showed the shadow of falsehood. God only knows, for
there is none other to hear or comfort me, my days and nights of anxious
solicitude for your welfare. What will become of you, when I am gone, my
darling? 'My soul fain