situation in life which may not shew forth the goodness and power of the Creator. Such were the friends that Uncle Joshua meant to secure to Jane and her children.

The morning that Mr and Mrs Watson came to pay Mrs Fulton a visit, they found her in a becoming mourning dress, every curl and every fold in place. But their own feelings of kindness supplied the want of hers, and aroused something like sympathy in her mind. "We must be friends,' said Mr Watson as he shook her hand with cordiality, or we shall not fulfil the last request of our excellent friend. You must fix on an afternoon to pass with us, and bring all your children.' Jane could not refuse, and the day was appointed; and as Mrs Watson left the room, she said: 'Don't make it later than four.'

6

'Impossible,' said Frank. 'Go at four! What Goths and Vandals! You will expire before you can get away. I will call and pass half an hour after tea, and I hope this will finish off the intercourse for a year at least. By the by, Jane, put down the day of the month, and next year we will return the invitation the same day.' When the afternoon arrived, a new obstacle presented itself. Elinor, the eldest daughter, who had attained her sixteenth year, and was to come out the next winter, had her engagements and pursuits; and learned, with a feeling of disappointment, that a long afternoon was to be spent in a scene of domestic dulness and ennui. The sacrifice, however, was to be made; and, with a naturally amiable disposition, and much energy of character, she determined it should be made cheerfully; with a secret hope, however, that they should not see the sick young man.

The sick young man was the first to receive them-to welcome them, with a gay and cheerful expression, to his father's house. Mrs Watson lost at home all the constraint of forms, to which she was unused. She was kind, maternal, and affectionate. The table was loaded with prints, and works of fancy and taste. Everything was refined, and in good keeping; and, to the astonishment of the Fultons, Oliver, in fashionable phrase, was 'the life of the party.' Instead of allusions to his feeble health, and a list of his infirmities, which the visitors had anticipated, not a word was hinted on the subject. A new treat was prepared for the evening-his electrical machine, with its curious experiments; his magic lantern, with its grave and gay scenes, its passing characters, so true a picture of human life. When the carriage came to convey Elinor to the cotillon party, strange as it may seem, she preferred staying the evening, and the carriage was dismissed.

Dr Fulton did not come. Business undoubtedly prevented him. The family returned, delighted with their visit, and perfectly convinced that, though Oliver looked sick and emaciated, and his hands were so white and almost transparent, he could not suffer much. Mrs Fulton said: 'Suffering was not only marked upon the

countenance, but it destroyed the force and resolution of the character.' In most cases she was undoubtedly right, but in the present one she was wrong. Sickness and suffering had nerved, not destroyed, the energy of his character; and he had learned to look upon his frame as a machine, which the mind was to control.

About a year passed on after this introductory visit, and during this period Elinor frequently visited Mrs Watson's family, but was at no time accompanied either by her father or mother. Both were engaged with society which they considered more exalted and more creditable. Yet both had not exactly the same ideas of spending time and money. Each followed a separate course in some respects. Frank had wholly ceased his communications to Jane with regard to his pecuniary affairs; consequently, this mutual source of interest was gone; and as she saw no restraint laid on anything, she presumed very naturally that, as long as his business was so flourishing, it was of little consequence what they expended. Sometimes, when her benevolent feelings were interested, and she gave lavishly and injudiciously, Frank accused her of extravagance. Then came retaliation, and hints that she had always heard that with increase of means came a greater tenacity of money; for her own part she considered it as dross, if it was not circulating.

Extravagance seems to be a slight fault. In youth we are indulgent to it. We say if there must be wrong, that extreme is better than the opposite; we had rather see it than sordid calculation. But is this all? Does it stop here? A little reflection will convince any one that, to support extravagance, it must bring a host of allies. There must be injustice-selfishness; and the last auxiliary is fraud. Extravagance is, in truth, living beyond our honest means. It is a word used so lightly, that we almost forget its import.

The time was approaching when a very important event in the family was to take place. This was Elinor's coming out-a thing which the fond mother had greatly set her heart upon, and which was to be signalised by a ball of inconceivable grandeur.

'My dear Elinor,' said Mrs Fulton as they both sat at work one morning, 'your father and I have fixed upon the first evening in November for the ball. It is now the second week in October, and we shall not have much more than time to get ready. We must make out a list. Take your pen, and we will begin.'

Elinor did as her mother directed. The right way,' said Mrs Fulton, 'is to arrange the names alphabetically.' It was soon found, however, that this was impossible. A string of Ps or Qs, &c. obtruded. Then Mrs Fulton said: 'Streets were the best way to begin with. R Street; then go to C or E Street; and so on.' But here numbers were forgotten; and at last she thought of the Directory.

Elinor continued writing the list in silence, with her head bent over the paper. The next thing will be to fix upon waiters and

entertainments. We are to have the use of Mrs Bradish's two

rooms, just as she had ours last winter. But how moping you are, Elinor! I really think, as we are taking all this trouble for you, you might shew a little interest in it.'

Elinor attempted to answer; but her emotions seemed to be irrepressible, and she laid down her pen, and put her handkerchief to her eyes. 'You are not well, dear?' said her mother tenderly. 'Yes, I am,' said Elinor. 'But, mother, do you know how sick

Oliver is ?'

'I know he has been sick for a great many years; I believe ever since he was born.'

'But he is much more so now. The doctor says he cannot live long.'

It will be a mercy when he is taken,' said Mrs Fulton.

'He is everything to his mother,' said Elinor in a faltering voice. 'Yes; his father and mother will feel it at first, no doubt. you put down the Wilkinses on the list?'

Have

'Mother,' said Elinor solemnly, 'perhaps Oliver may die the very evening you have fixed on for the ball.'

'Well, if he should, it would be unlucky; but we cannot help it, you know.'

'They were such friends of Uncle Joshua's !' said Elinor.
'They are so out of the world, they will never know it.'
'But we should, mother.'

There is nothing so unwise as to torment ourselves about possibilities. I am sure things could not happen so unlucky.'

Jane was right in one point at least. There is nothing so unwise as to trouble ourselves about possibilities. We may lay a thousand plans, waste time in revolving consequent events, even go on to imaginary conversations, and, after all, the occasion for them never occurs, and our plans are swept away like chaff before the wind.

Elinor made out the list; the cards were written and sent; and the day before the ball arrived. The young, and those who remember the days of their youth, will not be severe on Elinor that her thoughts took a brighter hue as she busied herself in the splendid preparations; or that, when her ball-dress came home, her eye sparkled with pleasure as she gazed on it. Winters of sorrow and time must pass over the young head before its germs of anticipation, of hope, and of self-complacency can be blighted.

'It is a beautiful dress,' said Mrs Fulton. 'I will just run down and see if your father has come. He was to bring your ear-rings.' Down Mrs Fulton ran.

As she approached his room, which was on the basement story, she heard loud voices. She stopped at the door; and at that moment her husband said, in a deprecating voice: 'I assure you this is only a trifling embarrassment. Wait a few days, and everything will go right.'

'I know better,' was the ungracious reply; 'and I will wait no longer.' Jane turned away with a feeling of apprehension. Something of undefined evil took possession of her mind; and instead of returning to Elinor, she impatiently waited at the head of the stairs till the men were gone. When the door closed upon them, she again sought her husband. He was flushed and agitated.

'What do you want?' said he roughly as she entered.

'I came to see if you had got Elinor's ear-rings.'

'Don't torment me about such nonsense,' replied he; 'you worry my life out!'

Jane had caught his retaliating spirit. "Something worries you, it is evident. Who were those men that have just gone?'

'That is my affair,' said he.

She was silent for a moment, and then affectionately exclaimed : 'My dear Frank, how can you say so? Are not your affairs and mine the same? If anything makes you unhappy, ought I not to know it?'

How true it is that a 'soft answer turneth away wrath.' He evidently felt the forbearance of his wife, and replied more gently: 'Indeed, Jane, if I had anything pleasant to tell you, I should be glad to tell it. But the truth is, it is from kindness to you that I do not speak.'

'Then there is something unpleasant to be communicated?'

'Yes; but wait till this horrid ball is over, and then I will tell you all. Here,' said he, taking a little box from his pocket; 'carry these to Elinor, and tell her No; tell her nothing.'

'Indeed, Frank, it is cruel in you to leave me in this state of suspense. Tell me the worst.'

We are ruined! Now, Jane, go and finish your preparations for the ball. You would know all, and you have got it.'

What a day was this for poor Jane! Earnestly she entreated that the ball might be given up. But Frank said if anything could increase their misery, it would be making it so public; and, after seas of tears on the part of Jane, it was finally settled that everything should proceed the same.

Amidst the preparations for the evening, Mrs Fulton's depression was not observed. The only hope that remained to Frank was, that his affairs might be arranged with some degree of secrecy; and for this the ball, he conceived, was actually necessary. When the evening arrived, and Elinor came to shew herself, all equipped for her first appearance, any mother might have been proud of such a daughter, with her bright happy face, her sunny blue eyes, and a figure set off by her white satin bodice, and splendid necklace and ear-rings-the last present of her father. 'Does she not look like a queen, ma'am?' said the chambermaid, following her, and holding the light high above her head. Mrs Fulton cast upon her a look of anguish.

The company came. Everybody congratulated Jane on the beauty and elegance of her daughter. Everybody prophesied she would be the belle of the winter. Then came the supper; and at last the visitors departed. Elinor retired to bed, full of happy dreams; and her parents were left alone.

Jane attempted to converse with her husband; but he had done the honours of the whisky-punch and champagne till he had not a clear idea left; and broken slumbers and sad thoughts followed her through the night.

The next morning came, with bitter consciousness of what was before them. Frank had not the consolation of feeling that misfortune had reduced him; he had not lost any large amount by the sudden changes to which mercantile speculations are subject. He had been extravagant in his amusements; had thrown away a great deal of money in pictures and other works of art beyond his means; had lavished not a little on horses and an equipage; but, above all, he had allowed his wife to pursue a system of reckless extravagance both in her domestic concerns and expenditure on herself and children. All the money which could be commanded had been thus expended, and, to supply the deficiency of ready money, credit had been got, and bills signed to a ruinous amount.

When the circumstances of his somewhat disgraceful insolvency became known, they formed a tale which enlivened many an evening circle and morning gossip. The sagacity of the world was truly astonishing. It was incredible how many 'had expected such a crash.' Nearly all were loud in condemning Mrs Fulton's extravagance. Among their former friends, a few appeared to sympathise, but none to take the responsibility of counselling. Yet such a one appeared; and this was Samuel Watson-Uncle Joshua's 'vulgar friend.'

It was necessary that Frank should disappear from the scene of action; and Mr Watson was indefatigable in seeing that everything was transacted in the best possible manner, and in shielding Frank's conduct from reproach, as far as that was compatible with truth. His house was an asylum for Mrs Fulton and her children till something more eligible could be thought of. Among these early friends of her uncle, Jane's former impressions revived. She remembered his kind and judicious counsel, and wondered that she could so far have strayed from it. She spoke with perfect candour to Mr and Mrs Watson, and, in return, received counsel and consolation.

Uncle Joshua's legacy was a blessed resource for Mrs Fulton and her children. His house was a home to them; and to take possession of it was retiring as completely from the circle in which she had moved, as if she had followed her husband to the western country, where he went to begin life anew, and once more put up his sign'Dr Fulton practises gratis.'