wives have no other consolation for themselves or any one else, but in
the copious tears that swell up into their pretty eyes, they must sit
down and sob to break their dear little hearts with every now and then a
hysterical sentence from behind the dainty lawn handkerchief, saying
"what will everyone think? What will Lady Featherly say? We wont be
asked to any more 'at homes' now, and the ball at 'Rideau' is next week,
oh dear--boo--hoo--hoo!" Of course the merciless husband gets mad
because his poor little helpless wife sees fit to weep over a fate that
must disgrace her in the eyes of the social world. She wouldn't mind
being refused everywhere for "credit" as long as they had enough to eat
and "kept up appearances," and she knows very well that no one will
believe her when she says she and "Percy" gave up house-keeping as a
"nuisance." Then there are those who will be delighted over her reverse,
the ones she never would invite to her five o'clock teas or evening
parties, will chuckle now over her misfortune, she tells herself
bitterly. How can she do without servants, she who has never brushed her
own hair all her single life. She can only cry and be sorry she ever
married. She is so unequal to such awful responsibilities. Asking
herself what she _could_ do to assist "Percy" in this catastrophe, only
gives her another fresh grief to realize. She sees that lawn-tennis is a
useless accomplishment before the bailiffs threat, dancing or singing,
or good looks are equally worthless in such a dilemma, high-toned
friends are of no avail, they drop the acquaintance generally, under
such circumstances.

The helpless little beauties must then break their hearts in grief, they
cannot do what less accomplished or less fashionable girls would be able
to do in such a moment, how could anyone expect them to say, "Let us
dismiss the servant, I know my household duties as well as she,
henceforth _I_ will make your shirts and knit your stockings, leave off