Download the full version of the textbook now at textbookfull.

com

Graph Data Science with Neo4j: Learn how to

use Neo4j 5 with Graph Data Science library
2.0 and its Python driver for your project
Scifo
https://textbookfull.com/product/graph-data-
science-with-neo4j-learn-how-to-use-neo4j-5-with-
graph-data-science-library-2-0-and-its-python-
driver-for-your-project-scifo/

Explore and download more textbook at https://textbookfull.com

 Recommended digital products (PDF, EPUB, MOBI) that
you can download immediately if you are interested.

Graph Algorithms for Data Science: With examples in Neo4j

1st Edition Tomaž Bratanic

https://textbookfull.com/product/graph-algorithms-for-data-science-
with-examples-in-neo4j-1st-edition-tomaz-bratanic/

textbookfull.com

Learning Neo4j 3 x effective data modeling performance

tuning and data visualization techniques in Neo4j Jerome
Baton
https://textbookfull.com/product/learning-neo4j-3-x-effective-data-
modeling-performance-tuning-and-data-visualization-techniques-in-
neo4j-jerome-baton/
textbookfull.com

Graph Algorithms Practical Examples in Apache Spark and

Neo4j 1st Edition Mark Needham

https://textbookfull.com/product/graph-algorithms-practical-examples-
in-apache-spark-and-neo4j-1st-edition-mark-needham/

textbookfull.com

Macroeconomic Policy and a Living Wage: The Employment Act

as Redistributive Economics, 1944–1969 Donald R. Stabile

https://textbookfull.com/product/macroeconomic-policy-and-a-living-
wage-the-employment-act-as-redistributive-economics-1944-1969-donald-
r-stabile/
textbookfull.com
Women s Entrepreneurship in Iran Role Models of Growth
Oriented Iranian Women Entrepreneurs 1st Edition Leyla
Sarfaraz (Auth.)
https://textbookfull.com/product/women-s-entrepreneurship-in-iran-
role-models-of-growth-oriented-iranian-women-entrepreneurs-1st-
edition-leyla-sarfaraz-auth/
textbookfull.com

Applied Helping Skills Transforming Lives Leah M. Brew

https://textbookfull.com/product/applied-helping-skills-transforming-
lives-leah-m-brew/

textbookfull.com

Sukhoi Su 25 Frogfoot 1st Edition Alexander Mladenov

https://textbookfull.com/product/sukhoi-su-25-frogfoot-1st-edition-
alexander-mladenov-2/

textbookfull.com

Flip Your Life How to Find Opportunity in Distress in Real

Estate Business and Life 1st Edition Tarek El Moussa

https://textbookfull.com/product/flip-your-life-how-to-find-
opportunity-in-distress-in-real-estate-business-and-life-1st-edition-
tarek-el-moussa/
textbookfull.com

Mechanobiology handbook Second Edition Ebong

https://textbookfull.com/product/mechanobiology-handbook-second-
edition-ebong/

textbookfull.com
Hard Rock Hydraulics: An Introduction to Modeling 1st
Edition Fernando Olavo Franciss

https://textbookfull.com/product/hard-rock-hydraulics-an-introduction-
to-modeling-1st-edition-fernando-olavo-franciss/

textbookfull.com
BIRMINGHAM—MUMBAI

Graph Data Science with Neo4j

Copyright © 2023 Packt Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written
permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embedded in
critical articles or reviews.

Every effort has been made in the preparation of this book to ensure the accuracy
of the information presented. However, the information contained in this book is
sold without warranty, either express or implied. Neither the author, nor Packt
Publishing or its dealers and distributors, will be held liable for any damages
caused or alleged to have been caused directly or indirectly by this book.

Packt Publishing has endeavored to provide trademark information about all of the
companies and products mentioned in this book by the appropriate use of capitals.
However, Packt Publishing cannot guarantee the accuracy of this information.

Publishing Product Manager: Ali Abidi

Senior Editor: Nathanya Dias

Technical Editor: Rahul Limbachiya

Copy Editor: Safis Editing

Project Coordinator: Farheen Fathima

Proofreader: Safis Editing

Indexer: Hemangini Bari

Production Designer: Shankar Kalbhor

Marketing Coordinator: Vinishka Kalra

First published: January 2023

Production reference: 1310123

Published by Packt Publishing Ltd.

Livery Place

35 Livery Street

Birmingham

B3 2PB, UK.

ISBN 978-1-80461-274-3

www.packtpub.com

Contributors

About the author

Estelle Scifo is a Neo4j Certified Professional and Neo4j Graph Data Science
certified user. She is currently a machine learning engineer at GraphAware where
she builds Neo4j-related solutions to make customers happy with graphs.

Before that, she worked in several fields, starting out with research in particle
physics, during which she worked at CERN on uncovering Higgs boson properties.
She received her PhD in 2014 from the Laboratoire de l’Accélérateur Linéaire
(Orsay, France). Continuing her career in industry, she worked in real estate,
mobility, and logistics for almost 10 years. In the Neo4j community, she is known
as the creator of neomap, a map visualization application for data stored in Neo4j.
She also regularly gives talks at conferences such as NODES and PyCon. Her
domain expertise and deep insight into the perspective of a beginner’s needs make
her an excellent teacher.
There is only one name on the cover, but a book is not the work of one
person. I would like to thank everyone involved in making this book a reality.
Beyond everyone at Packt, the reviewers did an incredible job of suggesting
some very relevant improvements. Thank you, all!
 I hope this book will inspire you as much as other books of this genre have
inspired me.

About the reviewers

Dr. David Gurzick is the founding chair of the George B. Delaplaine Jr. School of
Business and an associate professor of management science at Hood College. He
has a BS in computer science from Frostburg State University, an M.S. in computer
science from Hood College, a PhD in information systems from the University of
Maryland, Baltimore County, and is a graduate of Harvard’s business analytics
program. As a child of the internet, he grew up on AOL and programmed his way
through dot.com. He now helps merge technology and business strategy to enable
innovation and accelerate commercial success as the lead data scientist at
Genitive.ai and as a director of the Frederick Innovative Technology Center,
Inc (FITCI).

Sean William Grant is a product and analytics professional with over 20 years of
experience in technology and data analysis. His experience ranges from geospatial
intelligence with the United States Marine Corps, product management within the
aviation and autonomy space, to implementing advanced analytics and data
science within organizations. He is a graph data science and network analytics
enthusiast who frequently gives presentations and workshops on connected data.
He has also been a technical advisor to several early-stage start-ups. Sean is
passionate about data and technology, and how it can elevate our understanding
of ourselves.

Jose Ernesto Echeverria has worked with all kinds of databases, from relational
databases in the 1990s to non-SQL databases in the 2010s. He considers graph
databases to be the best fit for solving real-world problems, given their strong
capability for modeling and adaptability to change. As a polyglot programmer, he
has used languages such as Java, Ruby, and R and tools such as Jupyter with
Neo4j in order to solve data management problems for multinational corporations.
A long-time advocate of data science, he expects this long-awaited book to cover
the proper techniques and approach the intersections of this discipline, as well as
help readers to discover the possibilities of graph databases. When not working,
he enjoys spending time with friends and family.
Table of Contents

Preface
Part 1 – Creating Graph Data in Neo4j

Introducing and Installing Neo4j

Technical requirements
What is a graph database?
Databases
Graph database
Finding or creating a graph database
A note about the graph dataset’s format
Modeling your data as a graph
Neo4j in the graph databases landscape
Neo4j ecosystem
Setting up Neo4j
Downloading and starting Neo4j Desktop
Creating our first Neo4j database
Creating a database in the cloud – Neo4j Aura
Inserting data into Neo4j with Cypher, the Neo4j
query language
Extracting data from Neo4j with Cypher pattern
matching
Summary
Further reading
Exercises

Importing Data into Neo4j to Build a Knowledge

Graph

Technical requirements
Importing CSV data into Neo4j with Cypher
Discovering the Netflix dataset
Defining the graph schema
Importing data
Introducing the APOC library to deal with JSON
data
Browsing the dataset
Getting to know and installing the APOC plugin
Loading data
Dealing with temporal data
Discovering the Wikidata public knowledge
graph
Data format
Query language – SPARQL
Enriching our graph with Wikidata information
Loading data into Neo4j for one person
Importing data for all people
Dealing with spatial data in Neo4j
Visit https://textbookfull.com
now to explore a rich
collection of eBooks, textbook
and enjoy exciting offers!
Importing data in the cloud
Summary
Further reading
Exercises
Part 2 – Exploring and Characterizing Graph Data
with Neo4j

Characterizing a Graph Dataset

Technical requirements
Characterizing a graph from its node and edge
properties
Link direction
Link weight
Node type
Computing the graph degree distribution
Definition of a node’s degree
Computing the node degree with Cypher
Visualizing the degree distribution with NeoDash
Installing and using the Neo4j Python driver
Counting node labels and relationship types in
Python
Building the degree distribution of a graph
Improved degree distribution
Learning about other characterizing metrics
Triangle count
Clustering coefficient
Summary
Further reading
Exercises

Using Graph Algorithms to Characterize a Graph

Dataset

Technical requirements
Digging into the Neo4j GDS library
GDS content
Installing the GDS library with Neo4j Desktop
GDS project workflow
Projecting a graph for use by GDS
Native projections
Cypher projections
Computing a node’s degree with GDS
stream mode
The YIELD keyword
write mode
mutate mode
Algorithm configuration
Other centrality metrics
Understanding a graph’s structure by looking for
communities
Number of components
Modularity and the Louvain algorithm
Summary
Further reading

Visualizing Graph Data

Technical requirements
The complexity of graph data visualization
Physical networks
General case
Visualizing a small graph with networkx and
matplotlib
Visualizing a graph with known coordinates
Visualizing a graph with unknown coordinates
Configuring object display
Discovering the Neo4j Bloom graph application
What is Bloom?
Bloom installation
Selecting data with Neo4j Bloom
Configuring the scene in Bloom
Visualizing large graphs with Gephi
Installing Gephi and its required plugin
Using APOC Extended to synchronize Neo4j and
Gephi
Configuring the view in Gephi
Summary
Further reading
Exercises
Part 3 – Making Predictions on a Graph

Building a Machine Learning Model with Graph

Features
Technical requirements
Introducing the GDS Python client
GDS Python principles
Input and output types
Creating a projected graph from Python
Running GDS algorithms from Python and
extracting data in a dataframe
write mode
stream mode
Dropping the projected graph
Using features from graph algorithms in a scikit-
learn pipeline
Machine learning tasks with graphs
Our task
Computing features
Extracting and visualizing data
Building the model
Summary
Further reading
Exercise

Automatically Extracting Features with Graph

Embeddings for Machine Learning
Technical requirements
Introducing graph embedding algorithms
Defining embeddings
Graph embedding classification
Using a transductive graph embedding algorithm
Understanding the Node2Vec algorithm
Using Node2Vec with GDS
Training an inductive embedding algorithm
Understanding GraphSAGE
Introducing the GDS model catalog
Training GraphSAGE with GDS
Computing new node representations
Summary
Further reading
Exercises

8
Building a GDS Pipeline for Node Classification Model
Training
Technical requirements
The GDS pipelines
What is a pipeline?
Building and training a pipeline
Creating the pipeline and choosing the features
Setting the pipeline configuration
Training the pipeline
Making predictions
Computing the confusion matrix
Using embedding features
Choosing the graph embedding algorithm to use
Training using Node2Vec
Training using GraphSAGE
Summary
Further reading
Exercise

Predicting Future Edges

Technical requirements
Introducing the LP problem
LP examples
LP with the Netflix dataset
Framing an LP problem
LP features
Topological features
Features based on node properties
Building an LP pipeline with the GDS
Creating and configuring the pipeline
Pipeline training and testing
Summary
Further reading

10

Writing Your Custom Graph Algorithms with the

Pregel API in Java
Technical requirements
Introducing the Pregel API
GDS’s features
The Pregel API
Implementing the PageRank algorithm
The PageRank algorithm
Simple Python implementation
Pregel Java implementation
Implementing the tolerance-stopping criteria
Testing our code
Test for the PageRank class
Test for the PageRankTol class
Using our algorithm from Cypher
Adding annotations
Building the JAR file
Updating the Neo4j configuration
Testing our procedure
Summary
Further reading
Exercises

Index

Other Books You May Enjoy

Visit https://textbookfull.com
now to explore a rich
collection of eBooks, textbook
and enjoy exciting offers!
Preface
Data science today is a core component of many companies and organizations
taking advantage of its predictive power to improve their products or better
understand their customers. It is an ever-evolving field, still undergoing intense
research. One of the most trending research areas is graph data science (GDS),
or how representing data as a connected network can improve models.

Among the different tools on the market to work with graphs, Neo4j, a graph
database, is popular among developers for its ability to build simple and evolving
data models and query data easily with Cypher. For a few years now, it has also
stood out as a leader in graph analytics, especially since the release of the first
version of its GDS library, allowing you to run graph algorithms from data stored in
Neo4j, even at a large scale.

This book is designed to guide you through the field of GDS, always using Neo4j
and its GDS library as the main tool. By the end of this book, you will be able to
run your own GDS model on a graph dataset you created. By the end of the book,
you will even be able to pass the Neo4j Data Science certification to prove your
new skills to the world.
Who this book is for
This book is for people who are curious about graphs and how this data structure
can be useful in data science. It can serve both data scientists who are learning
about graphs and Neo4j developers who want to get into data science.

The book assumes minimal data science knowledge (classification, training sets,
confusion matrices) and some experience with Python and its related data science
toolkit (pandas, matplotlib, and scikit-learn).
What this book covers
Chapter 1, Introducing and Installing Neo4j, introduces the basic principles of
graph databases and gives instructions on how to set up Neo4j locally, create your
first graph, and write your first Cypher queries.

Chapter 2, Using Existing Data to Build a Knowledge Graph, guides you through
loading data into Neo4j from different formats (CSV, JSON, and an HTTP API). This
is where you will build the dataset that will be used throughout this book.

Chapter 3, Characterizing a Graph Dataset, introduces some key metrics to

differentiate one graph dataset from another.

Chapter 4, Using Graph Algorithms to Characterize a Graph Dataset, goes deeper

into understanding a graph dataset by using graph algorithms. This is the chapter
where you will start to use the Neo4j GDS plugin.

Chapter 5, Visualizing Graph Data, delves into graph data visualization by drawing
nodes and edges, starting from static representations and moving on to dynamic
ones.

Chapter 6, Building a Machine Learning Model with Graph Features, talks about
machine learning model training using scikit-learn. This is where we will first use
the GDS Python client.

Chapter 7, Automating Feature Extraction with Graph Embeddings for Machine

Learning, introduces the concept of node embedding, with practical examples
using the Neo4j GDS library.

Chapter 8, Building a GDS Pipeline for Node Classification Model Training,

introduces the topic of node classification within GDS without involving a third-
party tool.

Chapter 9, Predicting Future Edges, gives a short introduction to the topic of link
prediction, a graph-specific machine learning task.
Chapter 10, Writing Your Custom Graph Algorithms with the Pregel API in Java,
covers the exciting topic of building an extension for the GDS plugin.

To get the most out of this book

You will need access to a Neo4j instance. Options and installation instructions are
given in Chapter 1, Introducing and Installing Neo4j. We will also intensively use
Python and the following packages: pandas, scikit-learn, network, and
graphdatascience. The code was tested with Python 3.10 but should work with
newer versions, assuming no breaking change is made in its dependencies. Python
code is provided as a Jupyter notebook, so you’ll need Jupyter Server installed and
running to go through it.

For the very last chapter, a Java JDK will also be required. The code was tested
with OpenJDK 11.

Software/hardware covered in the Operating system

book requirements

Neo4j 5.x Windows, macOS, or Linux

Python 3.10 Windows, macOS or Linux

Jupyter Windows, macOS or Linux

OpenJDK 11 Windows, macOS or Linux

You will also need to install Neo4j plugins: APOC and GDS. Installation instructions
for Neo4j Desktop are given in the relevant chapters. However, if you are not using
a local Neo4j instance, please refer to the following pages for installation
instructions, especially regarding version compatibilities:
APOC: https://neo4j.com/docs/apoc/current/installation/

GDS: https://neo4j.com/docs/graph-data-science/current/installation/
If you are using the digital version of this book, we advise you to type
the code yourself or access the code from the book’s GitHub repository
(a link is available in the next section). Doing so will help you avoid any
potential errors related to the copying and pasting of code.

Download the example code files

You can download the example code files for this book from GitHub at
https://github.com/PacktPublishing/Graph-Data-Science-with-Neo4j. If there’s an
update to the code, it will be updated in the GitHub repository.

We also have other code bundles from our rich catalog of books and videos
available at https://github.com/PacktPublishing/. Check them out!

Conventions used
There are a number of text conventions used throughout this book.

Code in text: Indicates code words in text, database table names, folder names,
filenames, file extensions, pathnames, dummy URLs, user input, and Twitter
handles. Here is an example: “Mount the downloaded WebStorm-10*.dmg disk
image file as another disk in your system.”

A block of code is set as follows:

CREATE (:Movie {
id: line.show_id,
title: line.title,
releaseYear: line.release_year
}

When we wish to draw your attention to a particular part of a code block, the
relevant lines or items are set in bold:

LOAD CSV WITH HEADERS

FROM 'file:///netflix/netflix_titles.csv' AS line
WITH split(line.director, ",") as directors_list
UNWIND directors_list AS director_name
CREATE (:Person {name: trim(director_name)})
Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
expect. We must not part company, after all. The weak little creature
will never be able to manage by herself; and it will suit my
convenience better for the family to keep together. Yes,” soliloquized
the earl’s daughter, resting her chin on her hand in an attitude of
thought, “it would be folly under these circumstances to part. I must
change my tactics a little. I must make her feel me necessary; there
must be no division. If I had ever had a suspicion of the turn which
affairs would take, I would have played my cards very differently
with Clemence Effingham.”
Regard for self-interest was striving against prejudice and pride,
and, as often happens in hostilities of a more extended nature, the
war was ended by a compromise, or rather a treaty of alliance. In a
few minutes Lady Selina was gently tapping at Mrs. Effingham’s
door.
Clemence appeared seated at her little writing-table, pale but
tearless. Louisa was weeping beside her. Vincent, standing a little
apart, was repeating to himself half aloud, “Poverty is no disgrace,”
as one who is determined to face the enemy with resolution. It is
possible, however, that poverty presented itself to the mind of the
boy as little beyond exemption from going to school, and was,
therefore, no great trial of his youthful philosophy. Lady Selina
motioned to Louisa and her brother to quit the room, and then
seating herself on the sofa close to Clemence, with strange,
unwonted show of tenderness, laid her hand on that of the young
wife, which lay cold and impassive on the cushion beside her.
“Dear Mrs. Effingham, we are truly partners in sorrow; for, believe
me, my share in this trial is no light one,” and the lady heaved a
deep sigh.
Clemence remained silent. That Lady Selina grieved for her she
could not for a moment believe; but it was possible that even that
cold, worldly heart might cherish a regard for her husband. How
could it indeed be otherwise, after such long, intimate acquaintance
with one who possessed such power to attract to himself the
affections of all who knew him? Such a thought was quite sufficient
to prevent the gentle wife from repelling the sympathy, such as it
might be, even of her who had hitherto acted the part of an enemy.
It would, however, have been hypocrisy to have accepted it with any
warmth of gratitude. The pressure of Lady Selina’s thin fingers was
not returned, and the eyes of Clemence remained bent upon the
floor.
“But, dear Mrs. Effingham,” resumed Lady Selina, “this trial has
alleviations—great alleviations.”
In an instant the blue eyes were riveted on the countenance of
the speaker with an expression of hope. “Alleviations! Then you
know where he is,—you have tidings—”
“None, none,” replied the lady sadly; “but is it not a comfort to
think that your beloved husband, even under the heavy pressure of
adversity, thought and cared for his family with a foresight which
does him such honour? Mr. Mark, of course, informed you that the
sixty thousand pounds settled upon you by Mr. Effingham are safe;
the creditors cannot lay a finger upon them.”
Lady Selina watched the effect of her words. A bright flush
suffused the countenance of Clemence, rising even to her temples,
and then suddenly retreating, left it even more pallid than before.
“I did not hear about money—could not think about money,” she
replied hoarsely, withdrawing her hand from Lady Selina’s.
“Your delicacy of feeling, your disregard of worldly considerations
is noble—is quite in character,” said that lady, with a little touch of
sarcasm in her tone; “nevertheless, it must be a great relief to your
mind to find that everything is not lost—that, though on a smaller
scale, you can still maintain a suitable establishment, still offer a
home to those who have dwelt together under this roof.”
Clemence pressed her aching brow with both her hands. “Lady
Selina, I cannot think, I cannot realize what has happened, far less
form plans for an uncertain future. I must hear from my husband, I
must learn our actual position, know the full extent of the ruin which
has come upon our house. Of one thing I am certain—certain,” she
repeated more earnestly, rising from the sofa as she spoke, “my
husband would be the last man to claim or to desire an exemption
from the sufferings which may, I fear, fall upon some of his creditors.
I feel assured that, when he settled a fortune upon his wife, it was in
perfect ignorance of the crash which was so near. Unforeseen events
have brought on a crisis, and he will meet it, like himself, with firm
courage, unblemished honour, and a conscience free from reproach.”
“She is a greater fool than I thought her,” was Lady Selina’s
mental reflection, as she relieved Clemence from her unwelcome
presence.
Clemence, notwithstanding her fearless declaration, felt strangely
uneasy and anxious. Vincent’s childish words recurred again and
again to her mind, “Poverty is no disgrace.” Why should such words
give her pain? She feared to question her own heart as to the
reason. Clemence wrote a long letter to her friend Mr. Gray, the
faithful counsellor of her youth, detailing to him what had occurred,
as far as her own knowledge extended, mentioning to him the words
of Lady Selina, and asking him, in the absence of her best and
dearest guide, to say whether he thought that she could
conscientiously avail herself of resources so considerately provided
for her before the day of adversity had arrived. Clemence touched
tenderly on the subject. Doing so, even in the gentlest manner,
pained her like pressure upon a wound. She shrank from writing a
word which, even in the most remote way, could convey the slightest
imputation upon the conduct of her husband.
The wings of Time sometimes appear to be clogged with lead.
How wearily move the hours when anxious sorrow watches the
shadow on the dial! Clemence’s prevailing feeling was an intense
desire for tidings from her absent lord. If uneasy doubts would arise
in her mind, a letter, she felt assured, would remove them. Her
husband would make all clear. Whatever had occurred, no fault could
rest with him; her loving faith in him was unshaken. Clemence
started at every post-knock, and trembled when her room was
hastily entered, so nervously was her mind on the watch for tidings.
 Louisa was in a state of great depression. The first breath of
misfortune was sufficient to lay low the fragile reed, which had no
firm support to counterbalance its own weakness. Perhaps there was
a secret painful impression on the young girl’s mind that, since God’s
first visitation had failed to produce lasting effects, one yet more
terrible might be coming upon her. Louisa refused to listen to words
of comfort or hope, persisted in viewing everything in the darkest
light, and by her tears, complaints, and forebodings, irritated the
prouder and firmer spirit of her sister, which was struggling to tread
misfortunes under foot, and rise triumphant above them.
On the following day, which was Sunday, neither Lady Selina nor
her nieces quitted their dwelling. Those who had attended divine
service only to be seen of men, naturally absented themselves from
the house of prayer when observation would be painful. But to
Clemence, weary and heavy-laden, social worship was a privilege
not to be lightly foregone. In the solemn exercises of prayer and
praise, she trusted to be raised for a while above the cares and the
grief that oppressed her; the jarred and strained chords of her heart
could yet be tuned to swell the church’s hymn of thanksgiving.
Avoiding mixing with the stream of the congregation of which she
had been lately a member, Clemence, accompanied only by Vincent,
attended a more distant church.
The preacher’s sermon appeared as if addressed expressly to
herself, so closely did Clemence apply it. He spoke of the
blessedness of that home which sin and sorrow never can enter, and
of the boundless riches of God’s grace, so unlike to the treasures of
earth which take to themselves wings and flee away. He dwelt on
the glories of the heavenly city, till clouds of present affliction
seemed to reflect its distant brightness. He then described the
heaven in the heart, which may be experienced by the believer while
yet a sojourner in a world of trial, yea, even when plunged into the
seven-fold heated furnace of great tribulation,—the consciousness of
the presence of an Almighty Friend, of the support of the everlasting
arm, of the possession of that unspeakable love which passeth
knowledge, and is stronger than death! Tears, but not tears of grief,
flowed from the eyes of Clemence as she listened, and her heart
seemed able to echo the words of the poet, with which the preacher
concluded his address—
“Give what Thou canst, without Thee we are poor—
And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.”
 CHAPTER XIX

SACRIFICE.

onday came, and with it a letter from Mr. Effingham,

bearing the Dover postmark. How eagerly was it
received and torn open! The note was a very brief one,
and communicated but a vague idea of the position or
feelings of its writer. He was on the point of crossing
over to France,—hoped that his stay there might be a
brief one,—that necessary forms having been complied
with, he might soon be able to return to her who was
ever in his thoughts. He trusted that her health had not suffered
from the shock of receiving tidings which he had not had the
courage to communicate to her himself; and he desired his wife, in
the conduct of her affairs, to place implicit confidence in Mr. Mark,
and to be guided by the judgment of a man of such experience and
worth. This was all,—not even an address given; but such as it was,
the letter was a great relief to Clemence. Her mind had formed dark
forebodings; she had dreaded that sudden illness might have been
the result of Mr. Effingham’s distress of mind, and the cause of his
not coming forward personally to meet those whose interests had
been confided to his care. She now felt able to enter his study again,
that little room consecrated by so many dear recollections, to gather
up and arrange any stray papers that might have been left there,
that her husband, on his return to England, might find that nothing
was missing.
 How little that room was altered! The fire blazing brightly as ever,
the familiar tomes ranged in their accustomed places, the morning’s
Times laid on the table, the book beside the desk with half its leaves
yet uncut, and the paper-knife marking the place where Mr.
Effingham had lately been reading! Clemence tried by an effort of
imagination to blot out all remembrance of the last few days, to look
upon what had passed as a dream, and to listen for that well-known
step which would never be heard on that threshold again! She would
not occupy the arm-chair which she had seen so often filled by her
husband. One thing was changed—but one; the clock on the mantel-
piece, which Mr. Effingham had suffered no one to touch but himself,
which had belonged to his father before him, that clock which he
had regularly wound on each Saturday night, stood silent, with
motionless pendulum,—an emblem of the fortunes of the house.
Vincent followed his step-mother to the study. The boy was
restless and sought companionship, but Louisa was too melancholy,
and Arabella too irritable to make their society congenial to their
brother. Clemence would at that time have greatly preferred being
left alone with her own sad musings, but she would not, even by a
hint to that effect, drive from her side the only being who clung to
her in her sorrow. Vincent was therefore allowed to sit beside her,
endeavouring to glean amusement from the Times, while she slowly
and sadly pursued her occupation of collecting scattered papers.
One struck her eye—its appearance seemed familiar to her; upon
examination it proved to be the bill of Madame La Voye—that bill
which had cost her such painful self-reproach. It had surely been
paid long ago;—no! unreceipted, it lay amongst others! Clemence bit
her lip, but at the moment was startled by a vehement exclamation
from Vincent.
“What a shame! how dare they write so of papa!”
Clemence caught the paper from his hand. Vincent pointed to one
of the leading paragraphs; it commenced thus:—
“We have again to record a great crash in the commercial world,
attended with circumstances which force upon our attention the fact that
 the laws of bankruptcy, as at present constituted, are inadequate to
protect the property of the subject.”

Clemence read on, every sentence falling like a drop of glowing

metal on her heart; she saw the name most dear to her coupled
with duplicity, craft, dishonour!
“We hear on undoubted authority,” said the Times, “that Mr. Effingham
has settled a large fortune upon his wife, with whom the bankrupt
doubtless looks forward to enjoying in luxurious retirement the spoils of
the widow and the orphan. These evasions of law and equity have been
of late of such frequent occurrence, that we have learned complacently
to behold the giant offender rolling in his carriage, while the meaner
felon is consigned to a jail.”

The paper dropped from the hand of the miserable wife. Vincent
sprang to her side. “It is not true!” he exclaimed passionately; “it is
all nonsense and lies!—it is!—oh, say that it is!”
“Leave me, Vincent! leave me!” gasped Clemence; with an
imploring gesture she motioned to the door, and, as soon as her
command had been obeyed, threw herself down upon the floor and
writhed, as if in convulsions of bodily pain! What physical torture
could have equalled the agony of that hour! The anguish caused to a
loving and conscientious spirit by the errors of the being most
beloved, resembles in nature, and is scarcely exceeded in intensity
by that of remorse! To Clemence, her husband’s disgrace was her
disgrace; his transgressions seemed even as her own. So closely was
she joined to him in heart, that the consciousness of personal
blamelessness brought her no comfort—the shadow which had fallen
on him enveloped her also in its blackness!
“What am I called upon to endure!” was a thought ere long
superseded by another: “What am I called upon to do?” A gulf of
misery was yawning before the bankrupt’s wife—could no personal
sacrifice close it? Clemence started to her feet, took the writing
materials which lay on the table, and hastily penned to Mr. Mark a
scarcely legible note, praying him to come to her as soon as was
possible, as she needed his assistance and advice. This done, and
the letter despatched, Clemence could breathe a little more freely.
She declined seeing any one until after his arrival, and as that was
delayed for several hours, the unhappy wife had time to become
more calm, and to revolve in her mind what course of duty lay
before her. Yet the sound of the long waited-for knock at the door
which announced the man of business, was to her much as that of
the hammer-stroke on a scaffold might be to one doomed to suffer
thereon.
Mr. Mark entered with apologies for delay, of which Clemence
understood not one word. With tremulous hand she pointed to the
Times, and could scarcely articulate, “You have seen it?”
Mr. Mark gravely inclined his head.
“And is there any—” Clemence stopped short—she could not
endure to put the question in such a form. “Is it not all cruel
calumny?” she faltered.
Mr. Mark hesitated. “The language is harsh and strong,” was his
guarded reply: it was too well comprehended by the miserable
Clemence.
“When that—that money was settled,” she stammered forth,
without daring to look at her listener, “the house was safe, secure—
there was no prospect of the ruin that followed?”
“I believed so when I followed Mr. Effingham’s directions. I, for
one, had not the slightest doubt at that time of the solvency of the
firm.”
“And he—”
There was a long, painful silence; Clemence heard nothing but the
throbbing of her own heart. When the lady spoke again her tone
was strangely altered; there was in it no more of tremulous
earnestness, but the calm resolution of despair.
“Mr. Mark, let me ask one more question. Is that money entirely at
my own disposal?”
 “It is so by the terms of the settlement.”
“Then I request you, acting in my name, to place the whole of it in
the hands of the creditors.”
“My dear madam—”
“My resolution is quite fixed,” said Clemence, compressing her
bloodless lips.
“But consider your position, that of the family—”
“I have resources of my own,” replied Clemence firmly; “and my
step-daughters are already provided for.”
“You have resources?” repeated the lawyer doubtfully; “and the
boy?”
“Shares whatever I have,” answered Clemence.
“Perhaps a partial sacrifice,” began Mr. Mark, but the lady
interrupted him.
“All—all—I will give up all!”
“Not without reflection, dear madam, not on the impulse of the
moment, not without consulting your friends.”
“I consult you, the friend and adviser of my husband. Would not
the act be a just one?”
“Just, perhaps, but—” and he paused.
“I have also consulted another friend, one who has been to me as
a father—the Reverend Mr. Gray of Stoneby.”
“And he advises this step?”
“I have not yet had time to receive his reply.”
“Wait for it then,” said the lawyer; “do nothing without beforehand
weighing the consequences, or it is possible that you may regret
even the noble and generous act, the thought of which does you
honour.”
 After some further conversation, it was settled that Clemence
should delay her decision until Mr. Gray’s letter should be received,
and then convey her final decision in writing to the man of business.
Mr. Mark left her with a mingled sentiment of compassion and
respect, which softened his usually abrupt manner to that of almost
paternal tenderness.
“She has much to suffer, but she will suffer bravely,” thought he,
as he stepped into his brougham.
Clemence heaved a deep sigh when she found herself left alone.
The spirit which had supported her through that painful interview
now seemed to fail her. Very repugnant was it to her feelings to
consult any one before her husband, on a point which concerned his
honour so nearly. Could she not learn his will ere making so
momentous a decision? To do so was the instinct of her heart, but
not the judgment of her reason. No; even had she the means of
communicating with Mr. Effingham, how could she seek guidance
from him on the very path from which he had wandered? how ask
him if it were her duty to counteract his own schemes, and clear, as
far as possible, his character from a stain which he had deliberately
contracted? It was, perhaps, better that a cloud of doubt should rest
on what Mr. Effingham’s ultimate wishes might be, and that
Clemence should not behold in actual opposition her obedience to
her husband and her duty to her God.
 CHAPTER XX

DECISION.

r. Gray, as Clemence expected, viewed the subject of

retaining or relinquishing the fortune in the same light
that she did herself. He had, before answering her letter,
seen the article in the Times which had so deeply
wounded the young wife, and he had anticipated the
resolution that she would form. The ideas of the simple-
minded pastor were drawn, not from the maxims or
example of the world, of which he indeed knew little,
but from the pure, written Word of God. He read and believed that
the love of money is the root of all evil; he read and believed that it
is impossible to serve God and Mammon; and he had imbibed the
spirit of that most solemn question, What shall it profit a man if he
gain the whole world and lose his own soul; or what shall a man
give in exchange for his soul?
The clergyman’s letter was a very tender one, full of pious
consolation, and concluded by offering to the bankrupt’s wife a
home in the vicarage, where his dear partner, as well as himself,
would ever regard her as a cherished daughter.
The good man’s words were as balm to Clemence’s wounded
spirit, though she felt that her duty to her husband’s family might
render it impossible to accept an invitation which would otherwise
have opened a harbour of refuge to her weary, storm-tossed soul.
Clemence, without further delay, wrote her final decision to Mr. Mark.
Never had she more impatiently despatched a letter than that which
stripped her at once of the wealth which lay like a mountain’s weight
upon her conscience. Then, ringing the bell of the study—the room
which she now almost exclusively occupied—Mrs. Effingham
summoned, one after another, every member of her numerous
household, and gave warning to all, without exception. It was a
painful duty to the young mistress, but Clemence had nerved herself
to its performance, and uttered a sigh of relief as the last of the
servants quitted her presence. After all, it was easier to act than to
think; the necessity for exertion was perhaps in itself a blessing.
Clemence, since reading the article in the Times, had secluded
herself much from the family; she could not, in the first hours of her
anguish, have endured the sight of familiar faces—the torture of
being harassed with questions; she shrank even from the idea of
sympathy, and could scarcely bear to look upon Vincent, the
breathing image of one whom she thought of with grief, only
exceeded by her love. Clemence felt it now, however, necessary to
communicate with those whose interests were closely linked with her
own, and to ascertain the views and feelings of her step-children
before replying to the letter of Mr. Gray. With this view, mastering a
strong sensation of repugnance, she ascended to the drawing-room,
and found herself, on opening the door, in the presence of the
assembled family.
Lady Selina was standing near the fire-place in earnest conference
with Arabella; Vincent had stretched himself on the velvet rug,
leaning upon his crossed arms in an attitude of thought, but he
started up on his step-mother’s entrance; Louisa lay on the sofa, her
hand pressed over her eyes. There was a sudden break in the
conversation when Clemence’s form appeared, and Lady Selina, with
a slow and stately air, advanced forward a few steps to meet her.
“Mrs. Effingham,” she commenced, in tones even more cold and
formal than usual, “I have been much surprised, greatly astonished
to find that you have at once, without consulting any one, dismissed
the whole of your husband’s establishment! May I presume to ask
your reason for so extraordinary a step?”
 “I cannot now afford to keep any such servants,” replied
Clemence, gently but firmly.
“Not afford!—really, Mrs. Effingham, your language is
incomprehensible! Not afford, with sixty thousand pounds of your
own in the funds!”
Clemence leaned on the table for support as she answered, “I will
never touch a farthing of that money. I have given up all to the
creditors, without reserve.”
“That’s right!” was the hearty exclamation of Vincent. Lady Selina
stood for a moment actually speechless! Had she seen Clemence
deliberately put an end to her own existence, the lady’s amazement
and horror could not have been greater.
“You have done such an insane thing!” she exclaimed at length.
“I have done it!” was the reply of Clemence.
“Then, madam, you have qualified yourself for Bedlam!” cried
Lady Selina, condensed fury flashing from her eyes, all sense of
what is due from one lady to another lost in the torrent of furious
passion. “You have reduced your family to beggary; you have
subscribed to the condemnation of your own husband; you have
confirmed the opinion which I formed of you from the day when Mr.
Effingham had the infatuation to throw himself away on a child—an
idiot such as you!”
“Aunt, you must not, you shall not—” cried Vincent; but there was
no staying the rushing flow of bitter words. Clemence endured them
as the tree, whose leafy honours have been struck down by the
woodman’s axe, endures the pelting rain upon its prostrate form. It
has felt the cold steel dividing its very core; the sharp blow, the
heavy fall, have been its fate; the furious shower may now do its
worst, it cannot lay it lower, any more than it has power to restore
life to the withered foliage! But when Lady Selina paused at length,
mortified, perhaps, to find that her fiercest invectives could awake
no answering flash of angry retort, Clemence quietly expressed her
hope that she might be enabled so to economize as to live upon her
limited resources without incurring debt.
“Resources!” exclaimed Lady Selina with ineffable contempt; “the
paltry interest of two or three thousand pounds, of which an hospital
has the reversion! If you can reduce yourself, madam, to such
pauper allowance for the future, how extricate yourself from the
meshes of present difficulties? You speak of avoiding debt—you are
in debt at the present moment to myself!”
Clemence unclasped the massive bracelet on her arm, and silently
laid it on the table. It was her only reply. She then turned and
quitted the apartment.
“I wish that she had flung it at aunt’s head!” was Vincent’s
muttered comment on the scene.
A servant met Clemence as she was about to ascend the staircase.
“Please, ma’am, Madame La Voye is at the door, and says that she
must see you directly.”
“Send her away,” began Clemence, who felt as though her
patience had already been tried to its utmost power of endurance;
but as the man hesitated before again attempting a task in which he
had already failed, she altered her resolution. “No; let her be shown
into my room. Better meet this difficulty at once, and end it,”
murmured Clemence to herself, as the footman turned to obey.
Madame La Voye had, like all the rest of the world, heard of the
bankruptcy of Mr. Effingham, and trembled for her unpaid bill. Her
indignation had been inflamed to a high pitch by the article in the
Times. Mr. Effingham she had denounced, and loudly, as a swindler,
a cheat, and a felon; and she resolved, come what might, to have
justice done to herself. She called at his house on Monday, and
heard that Mrs. Effingham refused to see any one. Driven with
difficulty from the door, the dressmaker repeated her call on the next
day, with yet more fixed resolution to assert her claim. She would
not be one of the miserable creditors who suffered themselves to be
quietly robbed; she would not leave the house till she had received
her money! Madame La Voye had worked herself up to an
effervescence of indignation very unlike, indeed, to the smooth-
tongued politeness with which she had received Mrs. Effingham into
her show-apartments.
The Frenchwoman entered the house prepared to do battle for her
rights, and the first words which she addressed to Clemence were
abrupt almost to rudeness; but even she was in some degree awed
by that pale, meek face, stamped with such deep impression of
sorrow, and the first gentle tones of the silvery voice stilled her
anger as if by a charm.
Clemence owned her debt and her inability to pay it (“Was all
false, then, about the fortune?” thought La Voye); “But”—the lady
hesitated and glanced at her wardrobe—“perhaps;” the
Frenchwoman was not slow in comprehension—she spared the lady
the humiliation of an explanation.
Pride was not Mrs. Effingham’s besetting sin; but, in one form or
other, perhaps no human heart is entirely free from it. It was painful
to the lady to hear the value of her wardrobe estimated in her
presence—repugnant to her feelings to hear this mantle depreciated
as no longer à la mode—that dress, because the folds of the velvet
had been slightly ruffled in wearing. Madame La Voye was not
without a heart, and her anger had subsided into pity; but the
coarseness of her nature appeared even in what she intended for
kindness, and in her compassion for the reduced lady she never for
an instant forgot self-interest. Balancing, doubting, chaffering,
making a parade of “a wish to oblige,” forming a shrewd calculation
that a beautiful Indian shawl, “thrown into the lot, would make all
even between them,” for almost an hour Madame La Voye made her
victim do bitter penance for a day’s extravagance. The mortifying
interview, however, ended at last; the Frenchwoman, well satisfied
with her bargain, quitted the house, and Clemence held in her hand,
receipted, that bill which had been the cause of so much annoyance.
A sleepless night was passed in forming plans for the future.
There had been only too much truth in Lady Selina’s words—how
could the bankrupt’s wife find means to extricate herself from
present difficulties? Clemence’s purse was empty. The first
instalment of her income, miserable pittance as it appeared, was not
due to her for months; she had none to whom to apply for
assistance—none from whom she could hope for relief. Again and
again Clemence thought of her jewels, but they were all, with the
exception of her watch, and a few trifles of little or no intrinsic
worth, the gifts of her husband, and she regarded them almost as
one in the Dark Ages might have regarded precious relics,—things
far too valuable to be parted with, except with life. Yet there seemed
to be no other resource, and Clemence now felt that in resigning all
her fortune she had made a sacrifice indeed.
She rose sad and unrefreshed from her sleepless pillow, and yet a
spirit of submission was shed into her heart. The iron had entered
into her soul, but the wound was not poisoned by rebellious unbelief.
Clemence was able to pray hopefully for her husband, and to trust
that even the trials of his condition might be a means of drawing
him nearer to his God. Surely the Almighty had judged his errors less
severely than the harsh, unfeeling world? Had not those errors
arisen from the very tenderness of his affection towards his wife?
The temptations of prosperity had raised a mist around him; the
blast of misfortune had dispersed that mist, and the blue heaven
would again smile above him! Thus mused the young wife, her mind
ever recurring to her absent lord as the centre of all its earthly
thoughts. She could not see him, write to him, cheer him; but she
could still pour out her soul for him in prayer, and was there not
sweet comfort in that?
 CHAPTER XXI

JEWELS AND THEIR WORTH.

think it right to lay before the children of my dear

husband the course which I intend to pursue; their
welfare is very near to my heart, and I cannot separate
their interests from my own.” Such were the words
addressed by Clemence to Vincent and his sisters, while
Lady Selina sat listening near, her face wearing a smile
of cold scorn.
“I propose,” continued Clemence, “to rent a cottage, a
very small cottage in Cornwall, my native county, where necessary
expenses can be reduced to a very narrow scale, unless I should
receive directions from my husband which would induce me to alter
my arrangements. If any of his family will share that humble abode,
it will be my heart’s desire to make them as—;” the word “happy”
would not come, it died on the trembling lip, and a sigh concluded
the broken sentence.
Arabella slightly elevated her brow and her shoulders; Louisa
looked uneasily at her aunt.
“Such is your offer, madam; now listen to mine,” said Lady Selina,
folding her hands with the air of one about to give a proof of
magnanimous self-denial. “I need not speak of the fervent affection
which I have ever borne to my sister’s children. My dear nieces have
always looked to me as to the representative of a cherished mother,
and in the hour of adversity I shall be the last to desert them. To my
home, wherever that may be, most freely do I bid them welcome.
With Vincent the case is different; though my love for him is the
same, I cannot, as doubtless Mrs. Effingham will do, undertake the
expenses of his education, or give to my dear nephew the
advantages which are indispensable to a boy of his age.”
Doubtless the affectionate aunt had not forgotten that whereas
Vincent was absolutely penniless, the united incomes of her nieces,
moderate as they were, would exactly double her own. Few of those
who knew the lady intimately would have given her credit for
disinterested kindness; but whatever might be her motive for the
offer, Arabella was not slow to accept it.
“As, after what has occurred,” said the proud girl, drawing herself
up to her full height, “I should have declined sharing a palace with
Mrs. Effingham, her society would scarcely allure me to the hovel
which she chooses as her place of abode. I shall certainly remain
with my aunt.”
But the choice of Louisa was not so readily made. Her heart was
drawn towards her step-mother, so gentle and patient in her sorrow;
she felt for Clemence’s loneliness and desolation. Louisa could not
quite forget the tenderness with which she had been tended through
her illness; she could not quite forget how, in the long dreary nights,
a gentle watcher had bathed her fevered brow, offered the cooling
draught, and spoken words of holy comfort and hope. Her step-
mother was connected in her mind with all that her conscience
approved as right, her regret for past errors, her resolutions of
amendment, her thoughts on religion and heaven. Louisa had
sufficient intelligence to see the difference of character between
Clemence and her aunt. She could neither love nor trust Lady Selina,
as she could the pure-minded and unselfish woman whom her father
had chosen as his wife. But if Mrs. Effingham stood in the mind of
Louisa as the emblem and the representative of quiet piety, her
aunt, on the other hand, seemed that of the world and all its
tempting delights. Lady Selina would doubtless remain in London; to
stay with her was to partake of its pleasures, to enjoy its dazzling
scenes,—to dance, to shine, to see and to be seen. Oh! what magic
images of glittering splendour were conjured up before the mind’s
eye of Louisa, by the name of a “London season!” And could she
give up all this? could she endure to bury herself in dreary Cornwall,
with no gaiety, no amusement, no admirers, like some flower
doomed to—
“Blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air?”

The idea was intolerable! Not gratitude, esteem, pity, conscience,

were sufficient to fortify the poor girl against its terrors. She loved
the world—she was of the world. Her idol had been shaken—but
destroyed, never! It was resuming its old supremacy in a heart
which, though apparently cleansed for a while, had been found
empty of that divine faith which overcometh the world! Louisa
hesitated, indeed, but not for long. Avoiding looking at her step-
mother as she spoke, in a low, faltering voice, she said, “I think—I
would rather—remain in London—like my sister.”
Lady Selina cast a triumphant glance at Clemence, and going up
to her nieces, embraced them both with many tender expressions, of
which they, perhaps, guessed the real value. Mrs. Effingham quietly
quitted the room, feeling very desolate and low, and thinking that
for her the most welcome home would be one much narrower and
much quieter than any cottage dwelling. Just as she was entering
her own apartment, Vincent, who had been an excited though silent
listener to the preceding conversation, rushed after and overtook
her. The boy flung his arms tightly around her neck, exclaiming,
“Mother! you and I will stick together through thick and thin!”
Clemence returned the embrace with fervour; she clasped the boy
to her aching heart as if she would have pressed him into it, and
wept aloud in passionate grief, till almost choked by her convulsive
sobs. It was even as the accumulated masses of Alpine snows,
melting under the warm sunshine, burst through the barriers which
restrain them, and pour their swelling floods into the valleys below.
Vincent was almost alarmed at the sudden violence of emotion in
one usually so quiet and gentle; but, oh! what a weight of sorrow
had been pent up in that burdened heart!
Clemence was relieved by the burst of tears, and, when again
alone, seated herself before her desk, and, resting her brow upon
her hand, gave herself up to thought. Yes, she had something to live
for! That boy, that son of her heart, to him would she devote her
life, while the painful separation from his father should last. What
Lady Selina had said on the subject of Vincent’s education, now
pondered over in solitude, wrought some change in the plans of
Clemence. She must give up the idea of renting a cottage at
Stoneby, where she could again enjoy the society of dear friends,
and return to the occupations which she loved. Clemence could not,
with justice to Vincent, undertake his tuition herself, and Mr. Gray
was far too busily engaged in his extensive parish to do so. There
was a market-town about ten miles from the village, where
Clemence well knew that excellent daily tuition at an academy might
be secured at a very trifling expense. This determined her course;
personal comfort and inclination should not for a moment be
weighed against that which might be of such importance to the
future prospects of her step-son. Clemence dipped her pen, and
wrote an answer to the letter of Mr. Gray. She told him briefly of the
part which she had taken in regard to the fortune; declined with
deep gratitude his offer of a home; and entreated him, as soon as
possible, to secure for her a cottage within walking distance of the
academy of M——. Clemence limited the annual rent to a sum which
would scarcely have paid for one of the dresses which she had worn
in the days of her wealth, and requested that one of the girls from
her Sunday school might be engaged as her solitary servant.
The descent into poverty is most painful when one slow step after
another is reluctantly taken down the road of humiliation,—at each
some cherished comfort mournfully laid aside! Better far to calculate
at once the full amount of what must be resigned, put away every
superfluity, and resolutely make the plunge! Clemence ended her
letter by a reiterated entreaty that her friend might engage the
cottage at his earliest convenience, as she yearned to quit London,
where every moment brought with it some bitter pang of
remembrance.
And now one other task remained to be performed—a task
intensely painful. Most thankfully would Clemence have avoided it,
or, if it must be fulfilled, have deputed its execution to another. But
to whom could the young wife intrust the delicate office of disposing
of her jewels? Was it absolutely necessary to part with them at all?
Would none of her friends, her numerous acquaintances, assist her
at least with a loan? Clemence was sorely tempted to try, and more
than once commenced a note to one whom she knew had the
means to aid, and whom she hoped might have also the heart; but
she never got beyond the first line. Would it be honest to borrow
money, which she could hardly hope ever to repay? would it be
right, while she was in possession of valuables which might be
converted into gold? After all, she could look on the meditated
sacrifice as made for her son, her Vincent, the child of her beloved
husband, and that would give her courage to make it.
With a sickening heart Clemence removed from her jewel-box her
husband’s miniature, her mother’s wedding-ring, and the little locket
containing her parents’ hair, which had been her bridal-gift from her
uncle,—these, at least, she must ever retain; and after a hasty
preparation, as if fearful that her resolution might fail her if she
should delay, even for an hour, the accomplishment of her design,
Clemence glided out of her house with her jewel-case under her
cloak.
Rapidly she walked through the streets, like one who dreads
observation, drawing her thick black veil closely before her face. The
shops in one of the principal thoroughfares of London, which it was
her object to visit, were distant from Belgrave Square, and Mrs.
Effingham had never before attempted to reach them on foot. She
had repeatedly to inquire the road to them, and she did so with a
shrinking timidity, which made more than one of her informants
watch with an eye of instinctive pity her slight, fragile form, clad in
its mourning garb, as it hurried on its onward way.
At length the gay, bright street was reached, noisy with carriages,
thronged with pedestrians, offering in its thousand decorated
windows temptations for every eye. Clemence had often driven
down that street in her own carriage, one of the fairest, the most
admired, the most envied of the throng. Now, the bankrupt’s wife
dreaded the recognition of any familiar face, as, weary and faint, she
entered a magnificent shop, which she had often noticed, in passing,
for the brilliant display of jewellery behind its plate glass.
There were several customers in the shop, and Clemence, whose
courage was failing her, was almost upon the point of retreating,
when the jeweller requested her to take a seat, she should be
served in an instant; and Clemence sank wearily upon the proffered
chair. She had some time to wait. A young betrothed couple were
choosing ornaments at the counter. At another time, the sight of
their happiness would have only called forth emotions of pleasure;
but the painful contrast between their errand and her own—they
coming to purchase, she to part with pledges of tender affection—
was so overcoming to Clemence, that when the jeweller at length,
after smilingly bowing out his customers, turned to inquire her
pleasure, she could scarcely command her voice sufficiently to make
her wishes intelligible.
 GOING TO SELL THE JEWELS.

The man’s face at once lost its smiling expression. “We sometimes
exchange jewels,” said he coldly “but never make purchases in that
way.” Like a fluttered bird, Clemence made her escape out of the
shop.
Must she try another? Yes, that one on the opposite side of the
street. So engaged in her own thoughts was Mrs. Effingham, so
abstracted from all that was passing around her, that as she crossed
the road she narrowly escaped being thrown down by a passing
vehicle. Once more summoning all her resolution, she entered the
shop. Here she was at least attended to without delay. A tall, hard-
visaged man in spectacles, was ready to receive the lady’s
commands. Clemence did not seat herself, but resting her trembling
hand on the counter, told her errand, and produced her jewels. The
man opened the case, and examined one article after the other, as if
mentally calculating its value. That precious guard-ring, first gift of
affection; that chain which loved hands had placed round her neck;
the diamond brooch selected by her husband; the watch, by which
she had counted so many blissful hours,—it seemed to Clemence
almost like desecration to see them in the hand of a stranger! It was
really a relief to her that a sum so much below their actual value
was offered by the jeweller, that she could, without self-reproach,
bear her treasures away from the place.
And yet they must—they must be sold! She must not return to her
home without success! A third time the drooping, heart-sick
Clemence crossed the threshold of a shop, where everything spoke
of luxury and wealth. This visit was the most trying of all! The
dapper little tradesman behind the counter eyed with a quick and
penetrating glance, not only the jewels, but their owner. Clemence
read in his curious look, “How came you possessed of such things as
these?” The bare idea of suspicion covered the pallid countenance of
the youthful lady with a burning glow. It seemed to her as if the first
words from the tradesman might be a question as to her own right
to the property of which she wished to dispose. He spoke, but to
Clemence’s relief it was only to mention terms of purchase.
Clemence, who had been tried almost beyond what she could bear,
hastily closed with his offer, and again had to encounter that curious,
scrutinizing look. Glad, most glad was she to leave the shop and the
street, with their bustle and grandeur, far behind her, though the
sum which she bore with her as the price of her jewels was less than
one-third of what they had originally cost!
“But is the sacrifice sufficient?” Such was the question which
Clemence asked herself as, almost sinking from fatigue, she at
length regained the well-known precincts of Belgrave Square, and
wearily remounted the steps of her magnificent mansion. “Is the
sacrifice sufficient?” she repeated, as, hastily throwing off the cloak,
whose weight even in that wintry day oppressed her, she sank on
the sofa in her own apartment. Could she on so trifling a sum travel
to Cornwall, and support Vincent and herself until she could draw
her interest in June? It was barely possible that, by the severest
economy, she might procure the necessaries of life, but Vincent’s
schooling, small as would be its expense—it would be idle to think of
that! And was he, of whose talents and progress his father had been
so proud, to lose by months of idleness all that he had gained during
years of application? Clemence opened her desk, and drew from it
her most precious possession—the miniature of her husband. Its
diamond setting was even as the admiration and praise of the world
which had once gathered around the original of that portrait, whom
the same world now scorned and condemned. Would the picture be
less precious without it, to her who valued every feature in the
likeness beyond all the jewels in Peru? And yet fast fell the tears of
the unhappy wife, as she removed from its sparkling encirclement
the ivory from which her husband’s eyes seemed to be looking upon
her, calm and bright, as in the first happy days of their love! Could
such a countenance deceive? Could dishonour ever sit on such a
brow? Fervently Clemence pressed to her lips again and again the
lifeless miniature, divested of outward adornment, but to its
possessor even dearer than ever. Dearer, because there was nothing
now but itself to give it value; dearer, because by man it would now
be regarded as a worthless thing!—was it not an emblem of the
beloved one whose image it bore?