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"Well," said Mrs Cynic, when I had concluded the reading, "that story see"

"And what is that, pray?" I asked, realizing I had been foolish to read such a tale to such an auditor

"Why, the truth of Madame de Sta&eus'"

That hateful woman! She always leaves s from some corrupt ancestry She has all the one, Mrs Purblind and I breathed ood," said Mrs Purblind

"No," I answered in a tone of disgust, "she has nothing within her to answer to it"

"How different she is from Mrs Earnest," continued Mrs Purblind; "why, you can hardly convince that wooodness knows she has trouble enough to ot! That ly from sheer badness"

I thought for a moly without cause He and his wife live at some distance froive you a scene to which I itness one evening when I was a trifle ill, and lay on a divan just out of their dining room

Mrs Earnest is like a delicate flower that lifts its pretty face and sht of love, but is bowed and broken 'neath the thunder-cloud and stors to make her home attractive, but her husband has no sympathy with this desire; to hi, and a safety valve for such ed to keep under control in the business world

The efforts that this poor little wife makes, in her timid way, to start up pleasant subjects of conversation would move a rock to tears

This is the scene, as I recall it--a specimen scene

The family--husband, wife, and three little children were at dinner, as I said

"What's been happening to-day? anything of interest?" asked the little wife

"Not that I know of," was the gruff reply

Silence, broken by the occasional sound of eating implements, ensued

"Pass the bread, will you?" he said in a short tone, directly