a good house, fashionably furnished; and his wife, like the wives of other flourishing young merchants, dressed in expensive materials, made in the latest fashion. Neither Morris nor his wife was vicious. They were only selfish and ostentatious, with unfurnished minds, and hearts as empty as their purses were full.
"Husband," said Mrs. Finley to her partner, who had just come home from Wall-street to dinner, his mind engrossed with some unaccountable rise in the stocks, "Husband, mother has been here."
"Well, what of that?"
"She has given up her house."
"What of that?"
"Why, you know what of that as well as I do; she does not know what she is to do next."
We must premise that Finley's father-in-law had made some unfortunate, as well as fortunate speculations; had died, and left his wife and an unmarried daughter penniless.
"I am sure I cannot say what she is to do next," replied Finley; "she is lucky to have one daughter well provided for. What does she propose?"
"She did not propose any thing. She sat and cried the whole morning."
"Of course she cannot expect to have a home here."
"Of course not. I told her, said I, 'Mother, if I were to ask husband to invite you here, we could not accommodate you, for we have not a room to spare: you know we must eat in the basement, to keep the parlours in order for company; and in the second story there is only the nursery and our bed--
