y
loneliness. I can promise you a permanent position, with 'all the
comforts of a home,' a salary of your own choosing, and 'no questions
asked,' as the newspapers say."

"How dare you, sir?" said Clemence, in lofty scorn, as she moved towards
the door, which was opened for her amid profuse apologies, none of which
she deigned to notice.

"And _this_ is trying to earn an honest living," murmured the girl, as
she found herself for the third time alone upon the pavement. "It sounds
very pretty and praiseworthy to read and talk about, but I have learned
to-day that it means insult and contempt from the coarse and vulgar, and
cold suspicion from those who, from their professions, should stretch
out a helping hand in the spirit of Christian love and charity."

Oh! my poor, lost sisters, who have gone before, and whose feet have
stumbled and faltered in the thorny way! He who pitied the fallen woman
of old, will remember all your prayers and tears and remorseful agony.
And in that "last great day," they who have led your inexperienced
footsteps into the path that leads to the gulf of vice and misery, will
suffer the vengeance of an outraged God.

This life is but a fleeting dream, of happiness to some, misery to
others, but there is a home beyond, and for the faithful, a "crown of
glory which fadeth not away." For we know that there is an inheritance
for those who persevere.

Thoughts like these filled Clemence's mind as she walked towards home
disheartened. She had cause for trouble. She knew that their scanty
means must soon fail entirely, if employment was not obtained, and this
was the result of her first trial. She was tired, too, being
unaccustomed to exercise, and her feet ached from contact with the
rough pavement. An empty car passed her, but she had given her last cent
to a beggar a few hours before. She thought of the hundreds she had
lavished without a thought upon the different objects of charity, and
sighed at the contrast. Now she must deny herself for the privilege of
bestowing the smallest gift. But she remembered too, that story of the
widow's mite, which was accounted more than the rich man's profusion.
She took comfort in the thought that the same loving care was over her,
and whispered softly one of her favorite texts, "I will put my trust in
Him, and He will never leave nor forsake me." The pure, sweet face was
like that of a glorified saint. An old woman hobbling by, bent and gray
with age, crosse