“A beam of comfort, like the moon through clouds, Gilds the black horror, and directs my way.” Pride--her woman’s pride--had sustained Floy in the late interview with Mrs. Alden, and enabled her to resign Espy with apparent indifference; but when his mother had gone, leaving her alone, a sudden sense of utter desolation came over the girl, and hastening to her own room she locked her door, and throwing herself on the bed, buried her face in its pillows, while bitter, bursting sobs shook her whole frame. “Was ever sorrow like unto my sorrow?” was the cry of the poor aching heart. “Have I not seen the grave close over my more than parents, earthly possessions swept away, and now resigned my love--all, all that was left me!” The storm of grief was violent but brief. She seemed to hear again the prayer offered for her by the aged saint standing at her side in that other hour when heart and flesh were failing, and with passionate earnestness went up the cry, “Lord, my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the Rock that is higher than I!” Ah, all was not lost! Himself He had left her still, and with the thought she grew strong to do and endure. She was endowed by nature with vigor of body and mind, and much firmness and decision of character. Her sobs were stilled, her tears ceased to flow, while with determined resolve she forced her thoughts to leave the past and busy themselves with plans for the future. A new hope, a new desire had been gradually growing in her mind for the past few days. Her mother--her own mother, who had so loved her in her infancy--was there not a possibility that diligent, persevering search might be rewarded by success in finding her? Perhaps she was still poor and ill--feeble in health--and if so, oh, how gladly would her daughter toil to supply her needs! how lavish filial love and tenderness upon her--the poor weary one who had hungered for them so long! How she was to earn a support for herself alone Floy did not know, but hope was strong within her young breast, and she felt that with such an incentive to exertion she could not fail. “Yes, she does live, and I shall find her--my poor, sorely-tried, precious mother!” she caught herself saying half aloud. There was a gentle rap on her door at that moment, and a sweet-toned voice asked, “Shall I come in, Miss Floy? If you would rather see me at another time, dear, I’ll go away and come again.” Floy sprang to the door and opened it, admitting a little, plainly-dressed woman with a sweet face framed in with silvery hair. A pair of mild blue eyes looked pityingly into the tear-stained, sorrowful face of the young mourner, and hastily depositing upon a chair a large package which she carried, the little woman held out her arms. Floy threw herself into them, hid her face on the kindly bosom, and burst into a fit of passionate weeping. Her friend soothed her with silent caresses till she grew calmer, then spoke a few tender, sympathizing words.