Year: 1877

$50 you are going to be married,
Kate ? Well, hope you nave made
wise choice"


''Oh yes, uncle" replied, lightly !;
81 know have. Henry is to make
me perfectly happy"


"What has he got ?'' was the next
pleasant observation that fell from
Uncle JoceIyn's lips.


Got uncle don't know what
you mean," I answered, growing rosy
red at the unexpected inquiry.


"NhRt are his means What does
he intend to settle upon you ?"


HE has his business, promptly in-
terrupted my mother.


"And he is so clever, he is sure to
| get on" / added, in my eagerness to
assure Uncle JoceIyn 1t was all right
as regarded my future.


THAT will depend q great deal upon
you, Kate" he replied, gravely. "The
/ wife has more to do IN making or
marring her husband than is gen.
orally suspected. A careless, extrava-
CANT, bad wife is the greatest curse a
man can have; q good one is the
greatest blessing"


"Yes, uncle o yes" I assented,
glRneing toward my mother, who
was smiling somewhat scornfully, I
fancied, at his opinions.


Take care of his pence, and his
pounds will take care of themselves"
continued uncle, land beware of ever
getting into debt, Kate it's the
easiest thing to get into and the
hardest thing TO get out Of. Take my
advice (; live well within your means
and always pay ready money"


"Yes, uncle o yes" 1 responded.
"I am sure you are right; and Henry
is so prudent, he is certain TO have
the same ideas"


"Well, keep them before your own
mind. Don't despiss an old mans
counsel +; buy nothing that you can't
afford, and always pay ready money"
l remember that conversation so
well with Uncle Joeelyn, some few
weeks before my marriage at the
time it did not strike me so forcibly
as afterward, for my mind was too
filled with other, and to me more in
terestiDg matters.


Uncle Jocelyn was an old man, and
the amount of his fortune had always
been wrapped in some obscurity but
lie lived comfortably, and possessed a
small property in Berkshire, upon
which he had built pretty and SUBJ
stantial house, where / had often spent
many happy days. He had always
shown a special affection for me, no
doubt owing to the fact of my being
the daughter of his only brother, who
had died when was quite an infant,
leaving me to the sole guardianship of
my mother. Unfortunately for me,
there had never been any love lost
| between the latter and Uncle Jocelyn;
the cOolness had rather increased
than diminished as years went by;
and when invitations were sent for
US to visit COnington, which was the
name Of my uDcle's place, my mother
| invariably refused for herself, and
only with great persuasion permitted
me to go.


How 1 enjoyed these visits
How sweet were the hay fields and
clover scented meadows How cool
and fresh the marble-slabbed dairy,
with its rows of brimMing basins of
frothy golden cream How fragrant
was the Old-fssbIoned garden, with its
| long grassy walks and great hig dewy
roses, and the old cedar tree so shady,
under which Uncle Jocelyn would sit
of an afternoon smoking, listening
apparently quite satisfied with my
childish conversation The sun al
ways seemed to be shining in those
/ days. / can recall no gloom then,
/ and things all wore q charm, which /
did not know lay chiefly in the fact Of
my own youth and utter ignorance Of
life and It cares.


However, not to digress, had not
seen so much of Uncle Jocelyn since
1 had grown up. Partly on account
of my mothers uRabated dislike to
him, partly because of the existence
OF new interest in life. had met
Henry Arden. He was six and tEen-
ty, five years my senior. His po-
sition in life was a fairly good one,
he having q small interest in a first
rate city business which gave him
over three hundred year his char
acter was irreproachable and when /
say that he was q general favOrite
wherever be went 1t may be sur
missed that in my opinion he was, if
not quite perfect, closely akin to it.
For myself was neutrality-suspicious. q
little more than thRt-but was pen
niiess until my mother died so 1t
!
how so desirable part had fallen TO
my lot. He was certain to get on
the senior partners had been known
to say so themselves. Consequently
our star in life promised to be s
fair one. And to be brief, we
were married. Our honeymoon
was Of comparatively short dura-
ton, but it was long enough to cost
Henry, as 1 afterwsrd learned, some
thing like forty pounds, which was q
considerable cut out OF three hundred
q year for lt had not occurred to
him to lay by any spare cash for
those svoidable expenses. had felt
rather uneasy at the expenditure, but
it was too early to venture on
any remonstranee had been so in
chned we we're sure to live very
quietly when we once. settled down,
and could easily then make up for
any little extrsvagRuee of which at
the outset We had been guilty. We
were to live in London, and We were
fully agreed on one point; lodgings
4 were not 70 be thought Of: we must