iage, but Constance did
not see it.

A happy elevation succeeded of course, the sudden, painful, but
brief depression of their fortunes. Nor was any of that tried family
less happy than before. And one was far happier. Still, neither Mr.
Morton, nor the rest could ever look at Willie's portrait without
remembering how near they had once been to losing it, nor without a
momentary fear, that some change in life's coming mutations might
rob them of the precious treasure, now doubly dear to them.

VERY POOR.

"WHAT has become of the Wightmans?" I asked of my old friend Payson.
I had returned to my native place after an absence of several years.
Payson looked grave.

"Nothing wrong with them, I hope. Wightman was a clever man, and he
had a pleasant family."

My friend shook his head ominously.

"He was doing very well when I left," said I.

"All broken up now," was answered. "He failed several years ago."

"Ah! I'm sorry to hear this. What has become of him?"

"I see him now and then, but I don't know what he is doing."

"And his family?"

"They live somewhere in Old Town. I havn't met any of them for a
long time. Some one told me that they were very poor."

This intelligence caused a feeling of sadness to pervade my mind.
The tone and manner of Payson, as he used the words "very poor,"
gave to them more than ordinary meaning. I saw, in imagination, my
old friend reduced from comfort and respectability, to a condition
of extreme poverty, with all its sufferings and humiliations. While
my mind was occupied with these unpleasant thoughts, my friend said,

"You must dine with me to-morrow. Mrs. Payson will be glad to see
you, and I want to have a long talk about old times. We dine at
three."

I promised to be with them, in agreement with the invitation; and
then we parted. It was during business hours, and as my friend's
manner was somewhat occupied and hurried, I did not think it right
to trespass on his time. What I had learned of the Wightmans
troubled my thoughts. I could not get them out of my mind. They were
estimable people. I had prized them above ordinary acquaintances;
and it did seem peculiarly hard that they should have suffered
misfortune. "Very poor"--I could not get the words out of my ears.
The way in which they were spoken involved more than the words
themselves expressed, or rather, gave a broad latitude to their
meaning. "VERY poor! Ah me!" The sigh was deep and involuntary.

I in