You see, if a man's dead, there's an end of all things; and I fancy they think of that before they quite come to any thing decisive." "_Chere etourdie_," said Mrs.Follingsbee, regarding Lillie with a pensive smile: "you are just your old self, I see; you are now at the height of your power,--'_jeune Madame, un mari qui vous adore_,' ready to put all things under your feet.

How can you feel for a worn, lonely heart like mine, that sighs for congeniality ?" "Bless me, now," said Lillie, briskly; "you don't tell me that you're going to be so silly as to get in love with Charlie yourself! It's all well enough to keep these fellows on the tragic high ropes; but, if a woman falls in love herself, there's an end of her power.

And, darling, just think of it: you wouldn't have married that creature if you could; he's poor as a rat, and always will be; these desperately interesting fellows always are.

Now you have money without end; and of course you have position; and your husband is a man you can get any thing in the world out of." "Oh! as to that, I don't complain of Dick," said Mrs.Follingsbee: "he's coarse and vulgar, to be sure, but he never stands in my way, and I never stand in his; and, as you say, he's free about money.

But still, darling, sometimes it seems to me such a weary thing to live without sympathy of soul! A marriage without congeniality, _mon Dieu_, what is it?
And then the harsh, cold laws of human society prevent any relief.