“Miss Belle,” said Paul Clifford catching eagerly at the smallest straw of hope, “if you can not give me the first love of a fresh young life, I am content with the rich [aftermath?] of your maturer years, and ask from life no higher prize; may I not hope for that?”

“I will think on it but for the present let us change the subject.”

* * * * *

“Do you think Jeanette is happy?  She seems so different from what she used to be,” said Miss Tabitha Jones to several friends who were spending the evening with her.

“Happy!” replied Mary Gladstone, “don’t see what’s to hinder her from being happy.  She has everything that heart can wish.  I was down to her house yesterday, and she has just moved in her new home.  It has all the modern improvements, and everything is in excellent taste.  Her furniture is of the latest style, and I think it is really superb.”

“Yes,” said her sister, “and she dresses magnificently.  Last week she showed me a most beautiful set of jewelry, and a camel’s hair shawl, and I believe it is real camel’s hair.  I think you could almost run it through a ring.  If I had all she has, I think I should be as happy as the days are long.  I don’t believe I would let a wave of trouble roll across my peaceful breast.”

“Oh!  Annette,” said Mrs. Gladstone, “don’t speak so extravagantly, and I don’t like to hear you quote those lines for such an occasion.”

“Why not mother?  Where’s the harm?”

“That hymn has been associated in my mind with my earliest religious impressions and experience, and I don’t like to see you lift it out of its sacred associations, for such a trifling occasion.”

“Oh mother you are so strict.  I shall never be able to keep time with you, but I do think, if I was off as Jeanette, that I would be as blithe and happy as a lark, and instead of that she seems to be constantly drooping and fading.”

“Annette,” said Mrs. Gladstone, “I knew a woman who possesses more than Jeanette does, and yet she died of starvation.”

“Died of starvation!  Why, when, and where did that happen? and what became of her husband?”

“He is in society, caressed and [ ed?] on by the young girls of his set and I have seen a number of managing mammas to whom I have imagined he would not be an objectionable son-in-law.”

“Do I know him mother?”

“No! and I hope you never will.”

“Well mother I would like to know how he starved his wife to death and yet escaped the law.”

“The law helped him.”

“Oh mother!” said both girls opening their eyes in genuine astonishment.

“I thought,” said Mary Gladstone, “it was the province of the law to protect women, I was just telling Miss Basanquet yesterday, when she was talking about woman’s suffrage that I had as many rights as I wanted and that I was willing to let my father and brothers do all the voting for me.”