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142 my fortune’s made. 
I felt a little fretted at my husband’s mode of 
speaking, but made no further remarks on the 
subject. He is never very enthusiastic or san¬ 
guine, and did not mean, in this instance, to 
doubt the fitness of the parties for happiness in 
the marriage state, as I half imagined. For myself, 
I warmly approved my friend’s choice, and called 
her husband a lucky man to secure for his com¬ 
panion through life a woman so admirably fit¬ 
ted to make one like him happy. But a visit 
which I paid to Cora, one day, about six weeks 
after the honeymoon had expired, lessened my en¬ 
thusiasm on the subject, and awoke some unpleas¬ 
ant doubts. It happened that I called soon after 
breakfast. Cora met me in the parlor, looking 
like a very fright. She wore a soiled and rumpled 
morning wrapper, her hair was in papers, and she 
had on dirty stockings, and a pair of slippers 
down at the heels. 
“ Bless me, Cora,” said I. u What is the mat¬ 
ter ? Have you been sick ? ” 
“ No. Why do you ask ? Is my dishabille on 
the extreme ? ” 
“ Candidly, I think it is, Cora,” was my frank 
answer. 
“ O, well! No matter,” she carelessly replied, 
“ my fortune’s made.” 
“ I don’t clearly understand you,” said I. 
“ I’m married, you know.” 
“ Yes, I am aware of that fact.” 
