168 THERE IS NO HURRY.

Now, poor things, I really don’t know why,
but girls do not marry off as they used. They
become old, and frequently—owing to the ex-
pectation of their settling—without the provision
necessary for a comfortable old age. This is
the parent of those despicable tricks and arts
which women resort to to get married, as they
have no acknowledged position independent of
matrimony. Something ought to be done to
prevent this. And when the country steadies a
little from the great revolution of past years, I
suppose something may be thought of by im-
proved teaching—and systems to enable women
to assist themselves, and be recompensed for
the assistance they yield others. Now, imagine
your dear girls, those younger ones particularly,
deprived of you”’

“ Here is the patient upon whom I must call,
en route,” interrupted the doctor.

The carriage drew up.

“‘ | wish,” said Charles, ‘* you had called here
on your return. I wanted the insurance to
have been your first business to-day.”

“| shall not be five minutes,” was the reply.
The servant let down the step, and the doctor
bounded up towards the open door. In his pro-
gress, he trod upoma bit, a mere shred, of orange-
peel; it was the mischief of a moment; he slip-
ped, and his temple struck against the sharp
column of an iron-scraper. Within one hour,
Dr. John Adams had ceased to exist.