“Never mind thanking me, children,” she said, as they poured out a dozen incoherent exclamations, to prove their gratitude.  “Always remember hereafter, when you feel unhappy, that ’God watches over you, and will surely send some one to help you if you only try to do right.’”

She tried to encourage herself with this thought, as she resumed her walk.  It strengthened her to renewed effort.  She paused before a store, where the wealth of the earth seemed to be collected in the “gold and silver and precious stones,” that dazzled her eyes to look upon.

An elderly gentleman lounged behind the counter.  She went directly up to him, and asked, in a straightforward manner.

“How much will you give me for this ring?”

It was a solitaire diamond, and had been her mother’s birthday gift.  The man looked at her keenly, and saw that she was not used to bargaining.  He read at a glance, the story of the delicate, mourning clad girl before him.

“Fifty dollars.” he answered, coolly.

“But it cost three times that sum,” said Clemence, “and although I need the money, I cannot sacrifice so valuable an article in that manner.  Besides its intrinsic value, it is very dear to me by association.”

“Can’t help that,” said the man, coarsely, “its intrinsic value is all that concerns me.  If you don’t wish to sell it, of course you can keep it.  Seeing, however, that its a pretty young lady, I’ll make it seventy-five.”

“Could you not make it a hundred?” she asked, hesitatingly.

“Not a cent more than seventy-five,” he said emphatically.  He read the despair in her face, and knew that whatever her emergency, it was so great that she must come to his terms.  “You see, young woman,” he condescended to explain, “you are not accustomed to this mode of business, and you do not realize that when people want ready money they must give a fair equivalent in order to get it.  Times are hard, and a dollar is a dollar now.  Six weeks later I might give you the sum you demand, but, to-day, it is quite impossible.”

“Very well, give me the money,” said Clemence, desperately; “I cannot wait a day longer.”

“Cruel, cruel!” she said, as she walked homeward.  “It will not meet our demands.  Where is all this to end?” The keen March wind was kind to her in one respect, it removed from her face all traces of emotion that would have disturbed the invalid.

Rap, rap, rap, at the little third story room.  “Come in,” called Clemence, listlessly.  Mrs. Mann’s cheery face looked in at the door.

“Something for Mrs. Graystone,” she said, holding out a small package.  “It was left here a moment ago, by a tall gentleman so completely muffled in furs that I could only get a glimpse of a pair of handsome eyes.  If you will not think me too curious, I should like to know what it contains.”

“Open it dear,” said the mother languidly.

All uttered an exclamation, as a roll of bank bills fell to the floor.  There was a brief note, which ran as follows: