some uncomfortable economics though she always contrived to do her husband credit when guests were in the house. Thus there was only one small lamp in the room and no fire though the day had been damp and cold, and John Parke did not feel disposed to warm himself as his wife did with hot cups of tea. “Well,” he said with a sigh--“there was nothing else to be expected. You might have made up your mind to that from the day they were married--I did,” said John with a nod of his head, which was sunk between his shoulders as if he had been the most foreseeing philosopher in the world. “I have not made up my mind yet,” said Letitia, “for why didn’t they tell me? Mary could never have kept in her triumph. And as for Frogmore, he would have been bursting with it. To be sure, Felicie--but I don’t put much faith in what the maids say. And then, why should they have been so more than usually fond of Duke? No; I won’t believe it,” Mrs. Parke cried, “they couldn’t have resisted the triumph over me.” “I tell you what,” cried John, “I won’t have that little brute of a pony in my stables. If Frogmore chooses to give Duke presents like that he must keep it for him. A little beast! and fit to eat as much corn as my best hunter. I can’t have it here.” “John! We must not offend Frogmore.” “Oh, offend Frogmore! When you tell me we are to be cut out and disinherited and lose everything!” “I never said that. I wouldn’t say it,” said Mrs. Parke, piously, “as if the worst had happened, for there’s always Providence to take into account, and measles and whooping cough and that sort of thing. And it might be a girl, and a hundred things happen--if it’s anything at all, which I don’t believe myself,” Letitia said, yet with a tremor at her heart. “Go away, for goodness sake, and dress,” she added, with irritation; “to see you going up and down, up and down, like the villains in the theatre is more than my nerves can stand. For goodness sake go away.” “I can’t take this sort of news so easily as you do,” said John, with his head upon his breast. “So easily as I do! Oh, go away, go away, and don’t drive me mad with your folly,” cried his wife. “Do you think it can ever be half as much to you as it is to me? To see that Mary Hill in the place that should be mine, to kiss her and pretend to be friends when I could tear her in pieces with my hand, to see your old fool of a brother, who ought to have been dead and buried----” “Letitia, not a word against Frogmore!” “Oh, fiddlesticks about Frogmore! as if one could have any patience with an old---- He ought to have been dead and buried long ago. No man has a right to live on society, and keep other people out of their rights. And to marry at that age! It ought to be punished like murder. It’s as bad as murder and robbery and sacrilege and high treason all together. I can’t think but you can find a word to say for him, John Parke.” “For one thing he’s not seventy--as you may see in any peerage----”