“What a good-hearted, motherly woman,” thought Clemence, after they parted.  “I am sure she meant well all the time.”  And perhaps it was but natural that Mrs. Wynn should put Rose forward, and make her happiness a thing to be considered above everything and everybody else.  Other mothers have done the same, and thought their Clementinas and Matildas the dearest girls in the world, and hated everybody cordially, who did not see them with their own partial eyes, and value them accordingly.  People are not so very different from the highest to the lowest, and nearly all view the world from one stand-point, and plan and speculate as to how they can best make it subservient to their own interest.  Mrs. Wynn, if no better, was at least as good as the majority of her sex.

That evening Clemence went down to the boarding place which was next in order, and which was the residence of a family by the name of Brier.  The night was glorious.  The moon rode proudly through the heavens, and the stars glittered brightly upon the deep azure of the evening sky.  The trees cast dusky shadows across her pathway, as she walked onward, and far away to the right of her, stretched a dark forest, shrouded in impenetrable gloom and silence.  All was calm repose.  Sweet odors floated to her, borne on the evening breeze, while afar off came the musical plash of falling waters, and the murmuring leaves bent to whisper a benediction.  Charmed by the calm beauty of the hour, she did not observe that any one was near her, until a carefully modulated voice fell on her ear: 

“We meet again, my fair young friend, by a most fortunate train of circumstances.  What, may I ask, was the subject of your contemplations, when I disturbed you?  Judging by the sweet tranquillity of your countenance, your thoughts were of the most pleasing description.”

Clemence recognized the well-known tones at once, even before she turned to glance at the new comer.

“Why, good evening, Mr. Strain,” she said, trying to conceal that she had been at all startled by his vicinity, and feeling somewhat re-assured, upon recognizing the village editor.  “I was not aware of your close proximity.  I was admiring this lovely evening.  Is it not really beautiful?”

“Beautiful!” exclaimed the gentleman, rapturously, “it is more than that, it is gorgeous beyond description!” continuing in a newspaper advertisement way, with some more remarks of a similar nature.  “May I ask, Miss Graystone, if you were walking for the purpose of calm enjoyment and meditation, or whether you had any decided object in thus going out unattended?”

“I had an object,” replied Clemence, “I am going to Mrs. Brier’s.  I thought I would go this evening, because it was so pleasant, and in order to be ready for my duties in the morning.”