Thomas Trudge was naturally a fair-minded, honest, good-hearted fellow, and, left to himself, would never have made any trouble in the world. But his partner, Bridget, was restless, meddlesome, and ambitious. She was always talking about the Up-towners, and nothing happened there, but it was the occasion of some sour and satirical reflection upon her part. She kept an especial watch upon Mrs. Million, particularly at the meeting on Sunday. Her dress was then thoroughly scanned, and if she ventured to come out with a new bonnet, gown, frill, or even ribbon, the amiable Bridget was sure to exclaim somewhat in this manner: “Shame upon that Mrs. Million, to be perking herself up in church with her new finery, to attract the attention of the whole congregation! What is Mrs. Million, that she presumes to catch all the best of the minister’s discourse――the corn and the kernel――and leave nothing but the husks for such people as we are. Oh, it’s because she’s rich, I suppose! But the tables will be turned, by and by. ‘Every dog must have his day!’ Dives had his, and Mrs. Million is having hers; but there’s another world to settle these accounts in!” It must not be supposed that Bridget Trudge was a bad woman, even though she indulged in such spiteful words; her bark was a great deal worse than her bite. But still, people who get into the habit of talking harshly, will ere long feel and act harshly――and so it was with Bridget. She had been so accustomed to indulge her love of scandal towards the Up-towners, that she seemed to hate them; and as to Mrs. Million, she felt as if she owed her some particular grudge; and this was the more curious, from the fact that Mrs. Million had always treated Bridget with kindness, and had made her various presents of considerable value. Nothing, however, in the conduct of the Up-towners, could satisfy Mrs. Trudge. Their behavior, in her view, was all wrong. She accused them of being extravagant, worldly-minded, dissipated, and, what was ten times worse than all, aristocratic. Entertaining such views as these, it may seem strange that the first idea of Mrs. Trudge, after she had settled it in her mind that they were rich, was, that she would become one of the Up-towners, join the aristocracy, and out-dash Mrs. Million. Her first great manœuvre was developed on the second Sunday after the drawing of the prize. Her husband went in his usual dress, but Mrs. Trudge appeared in all the glory of her new changeable damask, decorated with figures in gold. It was made in the height of the fashion; and as she flaunted up the broad aisle, you might have fancied that she was going to a masquerade. An enormous red satin bonnet, with huge bunches of ribbons, red shoes and a tall fan――though it was now November――served to aid the conceit. The little Trudges followed their mother, fantastically attired, while Tom, the pedlar, in his rusty, brown suit, brought up the rear.