ns; and how often do they take to themselves wings and fly
away."

"Enough, dear!" replied Edward Claire, smiling. "O no, not enough, by
any means. Five hundred dollars a year is but a meagre sum. What does
it procure for us? Only these two rooms and the commonest necessaries
of life. We cannot even afford the constant service of a domestic."

"Why, Edward! what has come over you? Have I complained?"

"No, dear, no. But think you I have no ambition to see my wife take a
higher place than this?"

"Ambition! Do not again use that word," said Edith, very earnestly.
"What has love to do with ambition? What have we to do with the world
and its higher places? Will a more elegant home secure for us a
purer joy than we have known and still know in this our Eden? Oh,
my husband! do not let such thoughts come into your mind. Let us be
content with what God in his wisdom provides, assured that it is best
for us. In envying the good of another, we destroy our own good. There
is a higher wealth than gold, Edward; and it supplies higher wants.
There are riches without wings; they lie scattered about our feet;
we may fill our coffers, if we will. Treasures of good affections and
true thoughts are worth more than all earthly riches, and will bear
us far more safely and happily through the world; such treasures are
given to all who will receive them, and given in lavish abundance. Let
us secure of this wealth, Edward, a liberal share."

"Mere treasures of the mind, Edith, do not sustain natural life, do
not supply natural demands. They build no houses; they provide not
for increasing wants. We cannot always remain in the ideal world; the
sober realities of life will drag us down."

The simple-hearted, true-minded young wife was not understood by her
husband. She felt this, and felt it oppressively.

"Have we not enough, Edward, to meet every real want?" she urged. "Do
we desire better food or better clothing? Would our bodies be more
comfortable because our carpets were of richer material, and our
rooms filled with costlier furniture? O no! If not contented with such
things as Providence gives us to-day, we shall not find contentment in
what he gives us to-morrow; for the same dissatisfied heart will beat
in our bosoms. Let Mr. Jasper get rich, if he can; we will not envy
his possessions."

"I do not envy him, Edith," replied Claire. "But I cannot feel
satisfied with the small salary he pays me. My services are, I know,
of gre