mother, when I see how she is sought after. And my other daughter—my Cynthia — writing such letters from Paris!”

“Things is a deal changed since my days, for sure,” said Mrs. Goodenough. “So, perhaps, I’m no judge. When I was married first, him and me went in a post-chaise to his father’s house, a matter of twenty miles off at the outside, and sate down to as good a supper amongst his friends and relations as you’d wish to see. And that was my first wedding jaunt. My second was, when I better knowed my worth as a bride, and thought that now or never I must see London. But I were reckoned a very extravagant sort of a body to go so far, and spend my money, though Jerry had left me uncommon well off. But now young folks go off to Paris, and think nothing of the cost; and it’s well if wilful waste don’t make woeful want, before they die. But I’m thankful somewhat is being done for Miss Molly’s chances, as I said afore. It’s not quite what I should have liked to have done for my Anna-Maria, though. But times are changed, as I said just now.”