THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 125 



"Fie! Kate," exclaimed Mary. " One would think 

 you were one now." 



There would have been a sharp retort had not Mr. 

 Wellson interrupted them by dragging up once more their 

 little private skeleton and rattling its bones before their 

 sad eyes. Said he : 



" The case is just this : Here we are, ftving in this expen- 

 sive house and keeping up a certain position in society, and 

 our funds at such a comparatively low stage that disagree- 

 able rocks and shoals are visible at every tide." 



" In other words," added John Junior, gravely, "the 

 stamps don't 'hold out." 



" That's it, my boy. We are living beyond our means, 

 and something must be done about it very soon." * 



" Can't we sell this house, my dear? A smaller one 

 would be less trouble to keep in order." 



At these words Mary's heart fell down two degrees and a 

 tenth, and her mental atmosphere was depressed. To move 

 away just now would be disastrous. 



"We might sell," replied Mr. Wellson, "at a heavy 

 loss." 



" Yes," said Kate, " and go into some box of a house, 

 and live like six mice in one hole, and lose our garden, and 

 the grapes, and all the nice things, and have those wretched 

 Scrabbins girls say things, and cut us all dead. Oh ! isn't 

 it dreadful? I declare it's awful; really and truly. I 

 hope AVC shall move a hundred thousand miles from here, 



