slender figure left alone with her trouble, bowed itself like a reed
before the storm, and that wail of heart-broken humanity that has
resounded through long ages, and is yet only a faint echo of that night
so long ago, rose to the pallid lips, "my punishment is greater than I
can bear," nevertheless, "not as I will, but as Thou wilt."

CHAPTER II.

Alicia Linden walked slowly homeward, musing thoughtfully: "This is a
strange world," she soliloquized. "Let philosophers air their utopian
theories about its containing the elements of universal happiness. I
know that human nature, as it is now constituted, is too selfish and
mean to arrive at a state of absolute perfection. Truly, 'men are a
little breed.' 'But, in the future, when that which is whispered in
secret shall be proclaimed upon the housetops,' all our griefs and
wrongs shall be recompensed. Oh, weary women, syllabling brokenly His
precious promises, patient, untiring watcher, whose tired feet have
grown weary of the 'burden and heat of the day,' wait 'God's time!'
Listen to the words that have come down through the dim and forgotten
centuries--a message of 'peace and glad tidings.' 'In my Father's house
there are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you.' Teach us the
lesson of patience, oh Father above! 'Tis a wearisome struggle. This is
a sin-fallen world, and want and misery abound upon every hand. Is it
true, as another has declared--'Every sin is an edict of Divinity; every
pain is a precept of destiny; wisdom is as full in what man calls good
and evil, as God is full in infinitude?'"

Well, God sees, and over all is the loving care of "our Father who art
in Heaven."

And sometimes, when human sympathy is denied us--when the eyes, that
should only beam with pity and affection, turn coldly away, Nature,
bountiful mother, stretches out her arms lovingly, and wooes us to her
with an irresistible, but nameless charm. She cradles the tired head
upon her bosom, presses cool kisses upon weary, drooping eyelids, and
broods over the slumberer with loving vigils. Under her tender
ministrations our dreams are blessed visions of the "green pastures and
the still waters," and the "shining ones" waiting "beyond the river."

The smiling Spring day faded slowly. Evening came on apace. Under the
moonlit sky a fair-browed girl kept loving vigil. It was sweet Clemence
Graystone. There was a troubled look in the calm eyes. Life's battle had
but just began.