she spoke very
feelingly. "Such goings on, Ellen, are enough to set me crazy--so many
nurses--and then we have to keep four horses--and it's company, company
from Monday morning until Saturday night; the house is kept upside-down
continually--money, money for everything--all going out, and nothing coming
in!"--and the unfortunate Mrs. Thomas whined and groaned as if she had not
at that moment an income of clear fifteen thousand dollars a year, and a
sister who might die any day and leave her half as much more.

Mrs. Thomas was the daughter of the respectable old gentleman whom Dr.
Whiston's grandfather had prepared for his final resting-place. Her
daughter had married into a once wealthy, but now decayed, Carolina family.
In consideration of the wealth bequeathed by her grandfather (who was a
maker of leather breeches, and speculator in general), Miss Thomas had
received the offer of the poverty-stricken hand of Mr. Morton, and had
accepted it with evident pleasure, as he was undoubtedly a member of one of
the first families of the South, and could prove a distant connection with
one of the noble families of England.

They had several children, and their incessant wants had rendered it
necessary that another servant should be kept. Now Mrs. Thomas had long had
her eye on Charlie, with a view of incorporating him with the Thomas
establishment, and thought this would be a favourable time to broach the
subject to his mother: she therefore commenced by inquiring--

"How have you got through the winter, Ellen? Everything has been so dear
that even we have felt the effect of the high prices."

"Oh, tolerably well, I thank you. Husband's business, it is true, has not
been as brisk as usual, but we ought not to complain; now that we have got
the house paid for, and the girls do so much sewing, we get on very
nicely."

"I should think three children must be something of a burthen--must be hard
to provide for."

"Oh no, not at all," rejoined Mrs. Ellis, who seemed rather surprised at
Mrs. Thomas's uncommon solicitude respecting them. "We have never found the
children a burthen, thank God--they're rather a comfort and a pleasure than
otherwise."

"I'm glad to hear you say so, Ellen--very glad, indeed, for I have been
quite disturbed in mind respecting you during the winter. I really several
times thought of sending to take Charlie off your hands: by-the-way, what
is he doing now?"

"He goes to school regularly--he hasn