"Aunt Eunice's cousin was the principal merchant in a town of two or
three thousand people, and his estate, at his death, was--inventoried,
I think was the word--at twelve thousand dollars. Is it as much as
that?"
"Multiply it by six, my dear, and you'll be within the mark, which is
seventy-five thousand dollars."
"Oh, Phil!"
"I repeat it, seventy-five thousand dollars, and that in a country
where a family with a thousand a year can live on the fat of the
land! Our firm declares that our fortune will be as much to us, out
there, as half a million would be in New York. Doesn't that make your
heart dance? I can give you horses and carriages, dress you in silks
and laces, hire plenty of servants for you; in short, make you in
appearance and luxury what you will be by nature, the finest lady in
the county. Dear woman, the better I've learned to know you, the more
guilty I've felt at having married you; for I saw plainly that you were
fit to adorn any station in the world, instead of being the wife of a
man so poor that you yourself had to work for wages to help us have a
home. At times I've felt so mean about it that--"