roubled look for this long while," she
added. "The handsome new house which the Squire built, and into which
they moved last year, has not, with all its elegant accompaniments, made
her any more cheerful than she was before. Mrs. Dean told me that her
sister was very much opposed to leaving her old home; but the Squire
has grown rich so fast that he must have everything in the external
to correspond with his improved circumstances. Ah me! If, with riches,
troubles so deep must come, give me poverty as a blessing."

A week passed, and no one that I happened to meet knew, certainly,
whether Mrs. Dewey was at home or not. Then she suddenly made her
appearance riding about in her stylish carriage, and looking as
self-assured as of old.

"That was a strange story about Mrs. Dewey," said I to a lady whom I
was visiting professionally. I knew her to be of Mrs. Dewey's set.
Don't smile, reader; we had risen to the dignity of having a fashionable
"set," in S----, and Mrs. Dewey was the leader.

The lady shrugged her shoulders, drew up her eyebrows, and looked
knowing and mysterious. I had expected this, for I knew my subject very
well.

"You were at Saratoga," I added; "and must know whether rumor has
exaggerated her conduct."

"Well, Doctor," said the lady, dropping her voice, and putting on the
air of one who spoke in confidence. "I must say that our friend was not
as discreet as she might have been. Nothing wrong--that is, criminal--of
course. But the truth is, she is too fond of admiration, and encourages
the attentions of young men a great deal more than is discreet for any
married woman."

"There was an actual rencontre between Mr. Dewey and a person he thought
too familiar with his wife?" said I.

"Oh, yes. Why, it was in the newspapers!"

"How was it made up between the parties?"

"It isn't made up at all, I believe; There's been some talk of a duel."

"A sad affair," said I. "How could Mrs. Dewey have been so thoughtless?"

"She isn't prudent, by any means," answered this intimate friend. "I
often look at the way she conducts herself at public places, and wonder
at her folly."

"Folly, indeed, if her conduct strikes at the root of domestic
happiness."

The lady shook her head in a quiet, meaning way.

I waited for her to put her thoughts into words, which she did in a few
moments after this fashion:

"There's not much domestic happiness to spoil, Doctor, so far as I can
see. I don't think she cares a