ruination.

At last, the bitter, weary month was gone, and Triplet's eye brightened
gloriously. He donned his best suit; and, while tying his cravat,
lectured his family. First, he complimented them upon their deportment
in adversity; hinted that moralists, not experience, had informed him
prosperity was far more trying to the character. Put them all solemnly
on their guard down to Lucy, _aetat_ five, that they were _morituri_ and
_ae,_ and must be pleased to abstain from "insolent gladness" upon his
return.

"Sweet are the uses of adversity!" continued this cheerful monitor.
"If we had not been hard up this while, we should not come with a full
relish to meat three times a week, which, unless I am an ass (and
I don't see myself in that light)," said Triplet dryly, "will, I
apprehend, be, after this day, the primary condition of our future
existence."

"James, take the picture with you," said Mrs. Triplet, in one of those
calm, little, desponding voices that fall upon the soul so agreeably
when one is a cock-a-hoop, and desires, with permission, so to remain.

"What on earth am I to take Mrs. Woffington's portrait for?"

"We have nothing in the house," said the wife, blushing.

Triplet's eye glittered like a rattlesnake's.

"The intimation is eccentric," said he. "Are you mad, Jane? Pray,"
continued he, veiling his wrath in scornful words, "is it requisite,
heroic, or judicious on the eve, or more correctly the morn, of
affluence to deposit an unfinished work of art with a mercenary
relation? Hang it, Jane! would you really have me pawn Mrs. Woffington
to-day?"

"James," said Jane steadily, "the manager may disappoint you, we have
often been disappointed; so take the picture with you. They will give
you ten shillings on it."

Triplet was one of those who see things roseate, Mrs. Triplet lurid.

"Madam," said the poet, "for the first time in our conjugal career, your
commands deviate so entirely from reason that I respectfully withdraw
that implicit obedience which has hitherto constituted my principal
reputation. I'm hanged if I do it, Jane!"

"Dear James, to oblige me!"

"That alters the case; you confess it is unreasonable?"

"Oh, yes! it is only to oblige me.

"Enough!" said Triplet, whose tongue was often a flail that fell on
friend, foe and self indiscriminately. "Allow it to be unreasonable, and
I do it as a matter of course--to please you, Jane."

Accordingly the good soul wrapped it in green