After the removal had been accomplished, and the neat little dwelling put, as the elder Mrs. Fenwick termed it, into “apple-pie order” the following conversation took place between her and her daughter-in-law.

“Adelaide, it will now be necessary for you to let both your nurse and chambermaid go.  Charles cannot possibly afford the expense, as things now are.”

“Let my nurse and chambermaid go!” exclaimed Adelaide, with a look and tone of profound astonishment.

“Certainly, Adelaide,” was the firm reply.  “You cannot now afford to keep three servants.”

“But how am I to get along without them?  You do not, certainly, suppose that I can be my own nurse and chambermaid?”

“With your small family,” was Mrs. Fenwick’s reply, “you can readily have the assistance of your cook for a portion of the morning in your chamber and parlors.  And as to the nursing part, I should think that you would desire no higher pleasure than having all the care of dear little Anna.  I was always my own nurse, and never had assistance beyond that of a little girl.”

“It’s no use to speak in that way, mother; I cannot do without a nurse,” said Adelaide, bursting into tears.  “I couldn’t even dress the baby.”

“The sooner you learn, child, the better,” was the persevering reply of Mrs. Fenwick.

But Adelaide had no idea of dispensing with either nurse or chambermaid, both of whom were retained in spite of the remonstrances and entreaties of the mother-in-law.

Driven to the absolute necessity of doing so, Charles Fenwick opened an office, and advertised for business.  Those who have attempted to make their way, at first, in a large city, at the bar, can well understand the disappointment and chagrin of Fenwick on finding that he did not rise at once to distinction, as he had fondly imagined he would, when he turned his attention, with strong reasons for desiring success, to the practice of his profession.  A few petty cases, the trifling fees of which he rejected as of no consideration, were all that he obtained during the first three months.  At the end of this time he found himself in debt to the baker, butcher, milkman, tailor, dry-goods merchants, and to the three servants still pertinaciously retained by his wife.—­And, as a climax to the whole, his father’s business was brought to a termination by bankruptcy, and the old man, in the decline of life, with still a large family dependent upon him for support, thrown upon the world, to struggle, almost powerless, for a subsistence.  Fortunately, the Presidency of an Insurance Company was tendered him, with a salary of fifteen hundred dollars per annum.  On this he could barely support those dependent upon him, leaving Charles the whole task of maintaining himself, his wife, and their child.