ted
upon a form before her. A faint dash of crimson kindled the pallid
coldness of the pure face. She rose and moved forward with outstretched
hands, while the voice of Wilfred Vaughn asked, in sorrowful accents,
"Can this be the Clemence Graystone I have known, or only her wraith?"
He pressed the slender fingers tenderly in his own, and while every
lineament of that noble face spoke of his grief at finding her thus, he
said to the wondering girl, who looked upon his sorrow, "What a grievous
sin has been committed here! My sweet-faced darling, they have
sacrificed you to their cruelty. You have been the innocent victim of a
dreadful wrong."

CHAPTER XV.

"Do you recognize this handwriting?" asked Mr. Vaughn, after a few
moments desultory conversation, handing her a letter.

Clemence uttered an ejaculation of surprise, "Why, it looks like mine,
though I never saw it before. What a singular resemblance."

"What is more singular still, it has your signature," said the
gentleman; "read it."

The young girl obeyed, mechanically, and her companion watched her in
interested silence, while the blushes came and went on her pure face.

Her look deepened into one of anxiety and consternation as she read.
"What can it mean?" she asked, in distressed tones. "Who has sought thus
to injure me?"

"A jealous, wicked woman," he returned, sadly. "It was a cruel deed, and
brought its own bitter reward of remorse and shame. But I will give you
the whole story."

"You doubtless wondered at your abrupt dismissal from Mrs. Vaughn's
employment upon so slight a pretext as Gracia gave you. I never dreamed
of the possibility until you were gone, and, when I questioned her as to
the cause of the non-appearance of the face I had learned to watch for,
she gave me this, telling me to thank her for having saved me from a
dreadful fate.

"The letter seemed to explain itself. It opened my eyes to the state of
my own heart.

"This shock, for a time, nearly overwhelmed me. I never believed,
though, even in the darkest hour, that you could do anything really
wrong. I knew that you were tried by poverty, and only pitied your
sufferings, resolving to render whatever aid might lay in my power.

"In pursuance of this resolution, I therefore traced out your residence,
secretly, and in my efforts learned something of your former history. I
found that I had known Grosvenor Graystone in his days of prosperity,
and took new courage in finding