The Landlady's daughter had been blessed with a number of children, of
great sobriety of outward aspect, but remarkably cheerful in their inward
habit of mind, more especially on the occasion of the death of a doll,
which was an almost daily occurrence, and gave them immense delight in
getting up a funeral, for which they had a complete miniature outfit.
How happy they were under their solemn aspect! For the head mourner, a
child of remarkable gifts, could actually make the tears run down her
cheeks,--as real ones as if she had been a grown person following a rich
relative, who had not forgotten his connections, to his last unfurnished
lodgings.
So this was a most desirable family connection for the right man to step
into,--a thriving, thrifty mother-in-law, who knew what was good for the
sustenance of the body, and had no doubt taught it to her daughter; a
medical artist at hand in case the luxuries of the table should happen to
disturb the physiological harmonies; and in the worst event, a sweet
consciousness that the last sad offices would be attended to with
affectionate zeal, and probably a large discount from the usual charges.
It seems as if I could hardly be at this table for a year, if I should
stay so long, without seeing some romance or other work itself out under
my eyes; and I cannot help thinking that the Landlady is to be the
heroine of the love-history like to unfold itself.
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