She was rowing very hard now, and the fog was denser than ever.

"There is Mr. Sibthorpe, with his four girls and three boys, and a salary, as bank-teller, of two thousand dollars a year. The daughters all 'took' French and music lessons at school. One of them is 'passionately fond' of worsted work; another does decalcomanie flower-pots and box-covers for fairs, and all crochet in various stitches, and one is great upon tatting. They 'help about house,' as our grandmothers used to say, all four of them; do contrive, with the aid of their mother and a strapping Irish girl, to keep the housework tolerably in hand, and ' have in' a dressmaker and seamstress, spring and fall, to give them a fresh start. They don't read a book through once a year; they have no connected plans about anything, except to appear as well as girls whose fathers are worth ten times as much as is theirs - and to get married They murder time by inches while waiting for the four coming men; mince it into worthlessness with their pitiful fal-lals of fancy work and the fine arts (save the mark!). Evelyn told me, the other day, that the sprig of wax hyacinths she showed me - a stiff, tasteless spike, that smelled of oil and turpentine - 'occupied' her for ten hours! What will become of them when their pale, overworked father dies ? It is frightful to think of a vessel thus freighted and cumbered being tied to safety by such a worn, frayed cord as that one man's life."

A dash of sleety rain against the window interrupted her.

"Philip said there would be a storm before morning. I wonder if he took his umbrella? He never thinks of himself. I am sorry he had to go out at all with such a cold."

"One man's life!" What flung the words back at her? What had she and her petted daughters between them and comparative - maybe absolute - poverty, save the life of this man, who, with a heavy cold on his lungs, had gone out into the fierce March night? Who would dare prophesy that his dream of amassing a competency for his children would be fulfilled? Why should she be vexing her soul with speculations about the Payne, and the Carter, and the Sibthorpe girls, when other women, as wise and far-sighted as she, were perhaps asking aloud, in friendly or impertinent gossip over their respective firesides, what would become of the "poor Hillers," in the event of their father's death.

She felt very much as if her barque had, like Robinson Crusoe's ship, " with a shock, Struck plump on a rock ! "

What were her daughters good for, if the question should arise how to keep the wolf from their own door? There was Philip's life-insurance (everybody insured his life nowadays) of fifteen thousand dollars, secured to herself; and this house in which they lived, the lowest valuation of which was twenty thousand - and something - she wasn't sure how much besides. That is, she supposed something would be left when all outstanding accounts were paid. Say, however, that they would have thirty-five thousand clear. At six per cent, interest, this would bring, she estimated, after a pause, an income of twenty-one hundred dollars per annum. Provided she sold the house! That was a pang, even in imagination. Out of this sum must come rent, fuel, clothes, and a thousand etceteras for a family of four grown people, whose present income was, at the least, ten thousand a year.

"Good Heavens!" The rosy face blanched even under the ruddy rays of the sea-coal fire. "Say, then, that we were worth fifty thousand dollars, free of incumbrance. That would be only three thousand a year; and, as Philip says, we could do nothing to increase the principal. Why we would have to be economical, if we had double that sum. And few men's estates yield more. How do widows and orphans who have been reared in luxury, live, when the strong staff is broken? I seem never to have understood until this instant what helpless wretches women are; how most helpless of all classes are those who know themselves, and who have always been known as ladies, born and bred. Is there a remedy, a preventive for this? Is it impracticable to throw out an anchor to wind ward? What was the origin of this insane, wicked, cruel prejudice against independent thought and vigorous work on the part of women, that fills every rank of life with miserable wives, and mothers who ought never to be entrusted with the care of children ? Does He, who can make even wickedness the instrument of His purposes, permit this to flourish rank in Christian lands, that the world may be lawfully populated?"

In the boat again, and in very deep, murky waters, but tugging at the oar with all the energy of her practical, common-sensible character.

"Philip says teaching does not pay any longer; nor painting, nor music, nor fine sewing. What does?"

Through the smooth, oily heart of the big lump of coal on the top of the mass in the grate, placed there carefully by Mr. Hiller's tongs before he went out, ran a concealed layer of slate, not wider than a man's finger, nor thicker than a plate of mica. But when the fire touched it, it cracked, and the big, justly-balanced lump exploded with force that sent the fragments helter-skelter in every direction.

Mrs. Hiller jumped up with a little scream, and shook her dress violently, inspected every flounce, lest the flutings might harbor a live coal or spark.

"All safe, fortunately," she congratulated herself, after brushing off rug and fender, and pushing her chair a few paces further from the hearth. "It is a real calamity to scorch a dress in this day, when one pays so much for having it made. Our bills are absolutely shameful. Whoever loses money, or fails to make it, the milliners and dressmakers ought to be fat and flourishing. Their profits must be enormous, yet all of them - the competent and obliging ones - are overrun with work. Madame Champe, for example, gives herself the airs of a queen dispensing favors, when she consents to undertake a dress for me."