'Every Other Week' had become a very personal affair with the whole family; the children shared their parents' disgust; Belle was outspoken in, her denunciations of a venal press.

Mrs.March saw nothing but ruin ahead, and began tacitly to plan a retreat to Boston, and an establishment retrenched to the basis of two thousand a year.

She shed some secret tears in anticipation of the privations which this must involve; but when Fulkerson came to see March rather late the night of the publication day, she nobly told him that if the worst came to the worst she could only have the kindliest feeling toward him, and should not regard him as in the slightest degree responsible.
"Oh, hold on, hold on!" he protested.

"You don't think we've made a failure, do you ?" "Why, of course," she faltered, while March remained gloomily silent.
"Well, I guess we'll wait for the official count, first.

Even New York hasn't gone against us, and I guess there's a majority coming down to Harlem River that could sweep everything before it, anyway." "What do you mean, Fulkerson ?" March demanded, sternly.
"Oh, nothing! Only, the 'News Company' has ordered ten thousand now; and you know we had to give them the first twenty on commission." "What do you mean ?" March repeated; his wife held her breath.
"I mean that the first number is a booming success already, and that it's going to a hundred thousand before it stops.