And now with all her troubles thick about her,--while her son was still hanging about the house in a condition that would break any mother's heart, while her daughter was so wretched and sore that she regarded all those around her as her enemies, Lady Carbury finished her work, and having just written the last words in which the final glow of enduring happiness was given to the young married heroine whose wheel had now come full round, sat with the sheets piled at her right hand. She had allowed herself a certain number of weeks for the task, and had completed it exactly in the time fixed. As she sat with her hand near the pile, she did give herself credit for her diligence. Whether the work might have been better done she never asked herself. I do not think that she prided herself much on the literary merit of the tale. But if she could bring the papers to praise it, if she could induce Mudie to circulate it, if she could manage that the air for a month should be so loaded with "The Wheel of Fortune," as to make it necessary for the reading world to have read or to have said that it had read the book,--then she would pride herself very much upon her work.

And now with all her troubles thick about her, Lady Carbury finished her work, and having just written the last words in which enduring happiness was given to the young heroine, sat with the sheets piled at her hand. She had allowed herself a certain number of weeks for the task, and had completed it in exactly that time. She gave herself credit for diligence, although she did not pride herself much on the literary merit of the tale. But if she could get the papers to praise it, if she could induce Mudie's Library to circulate it, if she could make it necessary for the reading world to have read the book - then she would pride herself very much upon her work.
