executors of Mr. Garie were fully satisfied, such had been the thrift of
her father that there still remained a comfortable support for her and her
brother.

To poor Clarence this accession of fortune brought no new pleasure; he
already had sufficient for his modest wants; and now that his greatest hope
in life had been blighted, this addition of wealth became to him rather a
burden than a pleasure.

He was now completely excluded from the society in which he had so long
been accustomed to move; the secret of his birth had become widely known,
and he was avoided by his former friends and sneered at as a "nigger." His
large fortune kept some two or three whites about him, but he knew they
were leeches seeking to bleed his purse, and he wisely avoided their
society.

He was very wretched and lonely: he felt ashamed to seek the society of
coloured men now that the whites despised and rejected him, so he lived
apart from both classes of society, and grew moody and misanthropic.

Mr. Balch endeavoured to persuade him to go abroad--to visit Europe: he
would not. He did not confess it, but the truth was, he could not tear
himself away from the city where little Birdie dwelt, where he now and then
could catch a glimpse of her to solace him in his loneliness. He was
growing paler and more fragile-looking each day, and the doctor at last
frankly told him that, if he desired to live, he must seek some warmer
climate for the winter.

Reluctantly Clarence obeyed; in the fall he left New York, and during the
cold months wandered through the West India islands. For a while his health
improved, but when the novelty produced by change of scene began to decline
he grew worse again, and brooded more deeply than ever over his bitter
disappointment, and consequently derived but little benefit from the
change; the spirit was too much broken for the body to mend--his heart was
too sore to beat healthily or happily.

He wrote often now to Emily and her husband, and seemed desirous to atone
for his past neglect. Emily had written to him first; she had learned of
his disappointment, and gave him a sister's sympathy in his loneliness and
sorrow.

The chilly month of March had scarcely passed away when they received a
letter from him informing them of his intention to return. He wrote, "I am
no better, and my physician says that a longer residence here will not
benefit me in the least--that I came _too late_. I cough, cough, cough,
incess