* * * * *

She had gained one true friend in her adversity.  Alicia Linden had sought her out and managed to befriend her in various ways.  She resolved to consult her immediately.

“A good idea,” said that energetic lady.  “I will try and help you to obtain employment.”

This she did, keeping the name of the young girl from the circle of ladies, whose patronage she solicited.  It requires influence, even in the humblest calling, to obtain plenty of work at good prices.  Clemence did not dream how much she was indebted to the kindness of the masculine widow for the generous sums that came for her finely wrought articles.

“You owe me no thanks, dear,” Mrs. Linden would say, and, thinking remorsefully of that little feminine gossip at the Crane mansion, would redouble her efforts in the young girl’s behalf.  Mrs. Linden had a fear which amounted to presentiment, that the aforementioned clique, of which Mrs. Crane was the acknowledged leader, would learn, by some means, of her new interest in Clemence Graystone.  So great was her dread of such a discovery, that she carefully avoided the society of those ladies, and did not once venture into the neighborhood of her friends.  How her cherished secret became known to them she never knew, but, that it had become known she soon learned, to her chagrin and utter discomfiture.

Clemence was seated, one clear, cold December day, in their little parlor, busily at work upon a fancy article that one of her customers had ordered for the approaching holiday season.  She felt unusually light-hearted.  Mrs. Graystone had rallied from her illness sufficiently to walk about the house, and was now visiting Mrs. Mann in her apartments, that worthy lady having beguiled her into an afternoon’s visit, to give Clemence a better chance to finish her work.

Suddenly the cheerful little room was invaded by two ladies in sables and velvet—­none other than our old friends, Mesdames Brown and Crane.

Clemence recognized them at once.  A pink flush settled upon her pale face, but she rose with gentle dignity upon their entrance.

Eager for her triumph, however, Mrs. Crane did not give her time to utter a word.  “Well, I have found you at last,” she exclaimed, panting and out of breath.  “I declare, young woman, if I’d have known what a search I should have, I would not have ventured into this out of the way place.  Your’s a seamstress, ain’t you?”

“I am in the habit of taking in work of this description,” said Clemence, holding, for her inspection, the article she had been engaged in completing at the moment she was interrupted.

“Yes, pretty well done.  Just look at it closer, Mrs. Brown.”

That lady now came forward and examined the work in a would-be critical manner.