tful Mrs. Barlow cheered up
in spite of herself.

"What a mercy it is that when everything else is swept away in this
dreadful failure I still have you, dear, and no dishonest banker can rob
me of my best treasure," she said fondly, as she watched her daughter
with tearful eyes.

"No one shall part us, mamma; and if I can only get something to do we
can be independent and happy in spite of our losses; for now the first
shock and worry is over, I find a curious sort of excitement in being
poor and having to work for my living. I was so tired of pleasure and
idleness I really quite long to work at something, if I could only find
it."

But though Clara spoke cheerfully, she had a heavy heart; for during the
month which had followed the discovery that they were nearly penniless,
she had been through a great deal for a tenderly nurtured girl of
three-and-twenty. Leaving a luxurious home for two plainly furnished
rooms, and trying to sustain her mother with hopeful plans, had kept her
busy for a time; but now she had nothing to do but wait for replies to
her modest advertisements as governess, copyist, or reader.

"I do wish I'd been taught a trade, mamma, or some useful art by which
I could earn our bread now. Rich people ought to remember that money
takes to itself wings, and so prepare their children to face poverty
bravely. If half the sums spent on my music and dress had been used in
giving me a single handicraft, what a blessing it would be to us now!"
she said, thoughtfully, as she sewed with rapid fingers, unconsciously
displaying the delicate skill of one to whom dress was an art and a
pleasure.

"If you were not so proud we might accept Cousin John's offer and be
quite comfortable," returned her mother, in a reproachful tone.

"No; we should soon feel that we were a burden, and that would be worse
than living on bread and water. Let us try to help ourselves first, and
then, if we fail, we cannot be accused of indolence. I know papa would
wish it, so please let me try."

"As you like; _I_ shall not be a burden to any one long." And Mrs.
Barlow looked about for her handkerchief.

But Clara prevented the impending shower by skilfully turning the poor
lady's thoughts to the new cap which was ready to try on.

"Isn't it pretty? Just the soft effect that is so becoming to your dear,
pale face. Take a good look at it, and tell me whether you'll have pale
pink bows or lavender."

"It is very nice, child; you al