Mrs Smith’s enjoyments were not spoiled by this improvement of income, with some improvement of health, and the acquisition of such friends to be often with, for her cheerfulness and mental alacrity did not fail her; and while these prime supplies of good remained, she might have bid defiance even to greater accessions of worldly prosperity.  She might have been absolutely rich and perfectly healthy, and yet be happy.  Her spring of felicity was in the glow of her spirits, as her friend Anne’s was in the warmth of her heart.  Anne was tenderness itself, and she had the full worth of it in Captain Wentworth’s affection.  His profession was all that could ever make her friends wish that tenderness less, the dread of a future war all that could dim her sunshine.  She gloried in being a sailor’s wife, but she must pay the tax of quick alarm for belonging to that profession which is, if possible, more distinguished in its domestic virtues than in its national importance.

        Finis