ill be washing dishes in Jane Phelps' kitchen yet.'
Which prophecy will, in all probability, yet become literally true.

"I had these facts from Mrs. Jane Phelps Townsend, who told me that
her brother-in-law had lost all of his ill-gotten gains, and,
unless her husband assisted them, they would sink into the lowest
depths of poverty.

"I'm just hateful enough to feel glad of it, too, Clemence. I never
knew, until lately, that I could be wicked enough to rejoice over
other people's calamities. But I can't help it. Last week I took a
roll of fine sewing to Mrs. Addison Brayton. 'What are you crying
about now, Cynthia?' I asked of the disconsolate figure that sat
crouched over a sewing machine.

"'Oh, Mrs. Linden, I'm so unhappy,' she whined. 'There is a cold
winter coming on, and I don't know but we shall actually starve to
death before spring.'

"I remembered the insolent remarks of this lady, and the rest of
her set, when a certain little bright-haired pet of mine was
similarly situated, and tormented, like Martha, about 'many
things.'

"It needed all my Christian charity and forbearance to keep from
actually twitting her on the spot. I can't help but pity the
forlorn creature, though. She's married that little spendthrift,
who was brought up in idleness to rely on his expectations. They
don't either of them know anything about work, now they are thrown
upon their own resources. That is not the worst of it. The boy has
dissipated habits, that I fear will cause Cynthia yet to bitterly
regret the step she has taken against the advice of their best
friends. However, they must make the best of what cannot be
recalled. Then, too, she is married; and, if it be true that
happiness consists in securing the objects that allure us, then
should Cynthia be happy that she has at length attained the object
of her life-long ambition, and can at last write _Mrs._ to her
name. She is no longer an old maid, which is something gained, in
her estimation.

"The youthful husband seems the most to be pitied of the two. On my
way home I met him, shabby and forlorn enough, and _what_ do you
suppose he was doing? Positively in the capacity of errand boy,
carrying parcels to deliver. He is an under-paid drudge in a retail
grocery, on starvation wages. H