“I should think so,” remarked Mrs. Becker.

“At last, Herbert Philipson astonished even his own companions by a crowning act of folly.  There was then a young woman in Bristol, of good parentage, but an unmitigated virago; her family were thoroughly ashamed of her temper and her exploits.  They allowed her to have her own way, simply for fear that, through contradiction, she might plunge herself into even worse courses than those she now habitually followed.  In short, she was the talk and jest of the whole town.”

“What a charming creature!” remarked Mrs. Becker.

“No servant of her own sex could put up with her for two days together; she styled everybody that came near her fools and asses, and did not hesitate to strike them if they ventured to contradict her.  She got on, however, tolerably well with ostlers, stable-boys, cabmen, and such like, because they could treat her in her own style, and were not ruffled by her abuse.”

“How amiable!” exclaimed Mrs. Wolston.

“Herbert heard of this young person, and, through a fast friend of his own, obtained an introduction to her, and on the very first interview he offered her his hand.  He was known still to be a wealthy man, so neither the lady herself nor anybody connected with her made the slightest objection to the match, thinking probably that, if there were six of the one, there were at least half a dozen of the other.”

“They ought to have gone to Bedlam, instead of to church,” said Willis; “that is my idea.”

“Nevertheless, they went to church; and, after the marriage, Cecilia sought and obtained an introduction to the lady, and, whether by entreaties or by her good example, I cannot say; be this as it may, the unpromising personage in question became one of the best wives and the best mothers that ever graced a domestic circle—­in this respect even excelling the pattern Cecilia herself; and, what is still more to the purpose, she succeeded in completely reforming her husband.  When I left England there was not a more prosperous merchant, nor a more estimable man in the whole city of Bristol, than Herbert Philipson.”

“From which we may conclude,” remarked Mrs. Becker, “it is always advisable to have angels for friends.”

“We may also conclude,” remarked Mrs. Wolston, “that when a stroke of adversity, or any other misfortune, overturns the edifice of happiness we had erected for the future, we may build a new structure with fresh material, which may prove more durable than the first.”

“Talking of having angels for friends,” said Becker, “puts me in mind of the association of Saint Louis Gonzaga, at Rome.  On the anniversary of this saint, the young and merry phalanx forming the association march in procession to one of the public gardens.  In the centre of this garden a magnificent altar has been previously erected, on which is placed a chafing-dish filled with burning coals.  The procession forms itself into an immense