e
moral nature which never before had attained the ascendant. "But," she
thought, "too late, sin is revealed to me in all its deformity, and,
sin-defiled, I will not, cannot live. The, mainspring of life is
broken."

And thus passed slowly by her hours in that black despair of which only
youth is capable. In older years men suffer more dull pain, as each
sorrow that comes drops its leaden weight into the past, and, similar
features of character bringing similar results, draws up a heavy burden
buried in those depths. But only youth has energy, with fixed unwinking
gaze, to contemplate grief, to hold it in the arms and to the heart,
like a child which makes it wretched, yet is indubitably its own.

The lady who took charge of this sad child had never well understood her
before, but had always looked on her with great tenderness. And now love
seemed, when all around were in greatest distress, fearing to call in
medical aid, fearing to do without it, to teach her where the only balm
was to be found that could have healed this wounded spirit.

One night she came in, bringing a calming draught. Mariana was sitting,
as usual, her hair loose, her dress the same robe they had put on her at
first, her eyes fixed vacantly upon the whited wall. To the proffers and
entreaties of her nurse she made no reply.

The lady burst into tears, but Mariana did not seem even to observe it.

The lady then said, "O my child, do not despair, do not think that one
great fault can mar a whole life. Let me trust you, let me tell you the
griefs of my sad life. I will tell to you, Mariana, what I never
expected to impart to any one."

And so she told her tale: it was one of pain, of shame, borne, not for
herself, but for one near and dear as herself. Mariana knew the lady,
knew the pride and reserve of her nature; she had often admired to see
how the cheek, lovely, but no longer young, mantled with the deepest
blush of youth, and the blue eyes were cast down at any little emotion.
She had understood the proud sensibility of the character. She fixed her
eyes on those now raised to hers, bright with fast falling tears. She
heard the story to the end, and then, without saying a word, stretched
out her hand for the cup.

She returned to life, but it was as one who has passed through the
valley of death. The heart of stone was quite broken in her. The fiery
life fallen from flame to coal. When her strength was a little restored,
she had all her co