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 TELL YOUR WIFE 
 
 /L 
 
 /n^, 
 
 / 
 
 BOSTON 
 LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM 
 1886
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1885, 
 BY LEE AND SHEPARD. 
 
 All rig/its reserved. 
 TELL YOUR WIFE.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Youth, Hope, and Trust, 
 These form a trinity that makes a heaven upon earth." 
 
 HARRY ! it was splendid ! " 
 That was Hester. 
 
 " Old fellow, you did well ! " 
 
 "You'll eat your dinner with an appetite, 
 after that triumph ! " 
 
 " The dean spoke very favorably. He's rather 
 sparing of his compliments, you know." 
 
 So said one and another of a class of thirty, as 
 after the valedictory, which had cost me much 
 pains and close study, I came down from my 
 pedestal, and mingled with the crowd. 
 
 Even the wheezy professor, Hester's father, 
 with his chin on his chest, condescended to 
 smile his approbation, and even to essay a com- 
 plimentary sentence. 
 
 But what cared I for them all, with Hester's 
 slim white hand in mine ? Hester's brown eyes 
 
 2061875
 
 6 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 worshipful, Hester's smile making my heaven ? 
 Now very soon I could claim her for my wife. 
 I had loved her since the first day I entered the 
 college, and she, a shy girl of fourteen, had 
 looked up at me with a smile in her soft brown 
 eyes. She was then fourteen : now she was 
 seventeen, my bonny Hester. 
 
 "So you liked it," I said, with natural and 
 perhaps pardonable exultation. " Well, I don't 
 mind telling you that I thought it pretty good 
 myself before I reached the platform; but, 
 while delivering it, it seemed flat, stale, un- 
 profitable." 
 
 " I never would have dreamed it. You 
 seemed quite lost in the subject," she made 
 reply. " How did you like the flowers ? " 
 
 "Charming although I did not examine 
 them critically. I left them on the desk. Jen- 
 kins will attend to them." 
 
 " I'm afraid you don't like flowers," Hester 
 said, with an incipient pout. 
 
 " Because I sent them away ? I don't mind 
 telling you that I don't like carrying a bouquet, 
 though I adore flowers. If ever I have a church, 
 I mean to keep the altar supplied, in season 
 and out. 
 
 " ' There grows a flower on every bough : 
 Its gay leaves kiss I'll show you how.' "
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. / 
 
 Hester laughed. 
 
 "You'll please wait till you get home," she 
 said. 
 
 " Hester, have you tied your throat up ? " 
 asked Mrs. Vaughan, with awful dignity. " Mr. 
 Clements, you quite astonished us. The pro- 
 fessor says it was the best valedictory since the 
 time of Tindell. But dear me ! Tindell is in 
 deacon's orders yet. He married too young, 
 Mr. Clements. It was very wilful of him, very 
 wrong. We all warned him." 
 
 Hester gave me a look that said, "Take care ! 
 beware ! " and so spared her mother my opinion 
 of early marriages. 
 
 The dear girl had just one little fault. It 
 had sometimes occurred to me that she was a 
 trifle too prone to take matters into her own 
 hands, vulgarly speaking, of " bossing." Her 
 mother ruled the household, including the pro- 
 fessor ; that was evident on a brief acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 And yet the dear girl had a quick insight 
 into things that sometimes puzzled her elders. 
 She was electric, magnetic, and possessed of 
 the ability to read human nature. 
 
 She read me, but I was not then aware of 
 the fact ; she read and yet loved me. Doubt- 
 less she wished in a degree to shape my future. 
 This, I apprehend, was one of her most cher-
 
 8 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 ished ideas. She saw my enormous love of 
 approbation ; my desire to make all men, and 
 women too, my friends. There was the possi- 
 bility of a downfall from just this fact, that 
 I rated my gifts beyond their warrant, that I 
 looked down upon the commonplace, and my 
 vanity of race was simply stupendous. Sleep- 
 ing in my heart of hearts was a pride, that, 
 some day awaking, might spring upon me, and 
 destroy me root and branch. 
 
 I had noticed her ability as well as inclina- 
 tion to rule. By the simple arrangement of 
 putting on her embryonic attempts an arbitrary 
 interpretation of my own, I had come to the 
 conclusion, that in all respects, if she ever be- 
 came my wife, she must defer to my judg- 
 ment, not I to hers. This decision I never 
 had the courage to put in words. She was so 
 lovely, so lovable, grace was attendant in all 
 she did and said, her utterances were so pure 
 and noble, her interest in all I did so sincere, 
 that I kept my resolution to myself, partly, per- 
 haps, for fear that I should not be able to carry 
 it out. 
 
 " You will come home with us to dinner, the 
 professor says. Mr. Launce has done us the 
 honor to accept our invitation," said Mrs. 
 Vaughan, in her deep voice, that seemed to is- 
 sue from the triple folds of her chin.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 9 
 
 Launce was a slim, dignified dandy, the heir 
 to hundreds of thousands. 
 
 Hester, who had taken my arm, gave it a lit- 
 tle pinch. I knew exactly what it meant, 
 "What do I care for him, or his riches ? " 
 
 He was in the parlor when we reached the 
 professor's house, standing by the mantel, 
 pinching his chin. He had that distinctive 
 habit by which I should have known him in any 
 part of the world. Slim, tolerably well shaped, 
 with eyes that would easily have met but for 
 the insignificant line that formed the bridge of 
 his nose, a mouth of large proportions, a flat 
 forehead, mutton-chop whiskers and a mus- 
 tache, two features which saved his face 
 from utter vacuity, he was a man incapable 
 of attracting attention, save for his prospective 
 millions. As it was, all the mothers were fish- 
 ing for him, Mrs. Vaughan among them ; and all 
 the daughters save Hester dying to receive 
 a smile from him. 
 
 Curiously enough, though Hester treated him 
 almost with rudeness, he was more than willing 
 to lay all his possessions at her feet. 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Launce ! " said Hester indiffer- 
 ently. " Excuse me for a few moments I'll 
 be back soon, Hal," turning markedly to me ; 
 and away she tripped. I sauntered to the 
 farther end of the room. Hope and love made 
 me almost insolent.
 
 IO TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 Hester came down in a few moments radiant. 
 Never had she seemed so beautiful. A gown 
 of blue, laces like sea-foam at throat and wrist, 
 her eyes shining, her lovely head with its wavy, 
 rippling locks changing from bronze to gold, her 
 merry smile, was I some day to be the pos- 
 sessor of all those charms ? The very thought 
 made me shiver with a thrill of ecstasy. Am I 
 talking nonsense ? Every honest man in love 
 will answer, No ! 
 
 The memory of that day is burned in upon 
 my brain. For me it was supreme from the 
 moment I had achieved the first victory of my 
 young manhood till I parted with Hester. 
 
 The professor always gave good dinners, but 
 it was Hester's sparkling face I feasted on that 
 day. She played the violin with rare precision 
 and beauty if not with genius. Mr. Launce 
 listened, simpered, and pinched his chin. He 
 seemed to lack courage to speak to her while I 
 was by. I fancied I held him dumb by a sort 
 of mesmeric power. 
 
 That evening I talked with the professor. 
 Before I knew it, almost, I had asked him for 
 his daughter. He referred me to Mrs. Vaughan, 
 who gave a decided refusal. I was too young ; 
 my income only enabled me to take care of my- 
 self. The professor contemplated a visit to 
 Europe. He had relatives there. It was an
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. II 
 
 opportunity for her darling that she dared not 
 forego. 
 
 I listened as she droned on, my heart all 
 one dumb ache. Never having counted upon a 
 refusal, I was like a child just beginning to un- 
 derstand that he cannot have his own way. I 
 protested. As well might one try to cut ada- 
 mant with a pen-knife. Mrs. Vaughan's mind 
 was made up, and she was granite-firm. Hes- 
 ter knew it when she saw me. In what way, I 
 cannot conjecture, but she had dismissed Mr. 
 Launce. I held her two hands, and she saw 
 all the misery of my soul. 
 
 " I dreaded it would come to this ; but don't 
 you mind, Harry. I'll be true as steel." 
 
 "But to be gone a whole year!" If life 
 had depended upon it, I could not keep back 
 the tears. I am afraid they overran my eyes. 
 
 " It does seem a long time ; but courage," 
 said the high heart. And then the golden plaits 
 of the high heart laid on my shoulder, and she 
 was sobbing. It was not three minutes by 
 the filigree clock on the mantel-piece, however. 
 When she looked up, the soft eyes were defiant. 
 
 "She knows I love you she knows she 
 married papa when he was a poor student. She 
 ought not to be my mother but she is, and 
 she knows we all obey her in this house. I 
 won't run away with you, because that would
 
 12 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 be foolish, and wouldn't look respectable. Be- 
 sides, you've got your orders to think of, and 
 there's plenty of hard work before you. Come, 
 now, I'll prophesy. Before the year is out, you 
 will have your own church, marry some foolish 
 girl"- 
 
 I stopped her speech with a kiss. 
 
 We sat together for a little space, then I left 
 the house, more miserable than I had ever felt 
 in my life, little thinking that I should not see 
 her face again for many weary months.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Not to be true in seeming, is sometimes not to be true in fact." 
 
 HOW the year passed, I cannot tell. Occa- 
 sionally came letters from friends who had 
 met my darling ; never one came to me from 
 her that was forbidden. Yet night and morn- 
 ing her sweet words comforted me, 
 
 "Don't you mind, Harry. I will be true as 
 steel." 
 
 I believed her. She would come home to 
 me more beautiful than ever, she would come 
 home of age, ready and willing to take the re- 
 sponsibilities of life in her own hands, hers and 
 mine together. 
 
 Then came news. The professor had decided 
 to remain another year. I was furious; for I 
 had built up my plans, and every thing was 
 contingent upon her coming. 
 
 There were those who would have consoled 
 me, and I was sorely tempted. Men said that 
 Miriam, Hester's cousin, was the most beauti- 
 ful woman in the city ; and Miriam always re-
 
 14 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 minded me of Hester. Shall I tell of Miriam's 
 weakness, and my thoughtless folly ? The girl 
 knew my love-history Hester had confided in 
 her; and yet perhaps she thought, hoped, or 
 longed, that, being so far away, Hester might 
 forget me, or I her. Be that as it may, I formed 
 the habit of going to her for sympathy. She 
 was different from Hester in many ways, 
 more yielding, less aggressive, more intellectual. 
 She lived with her parents in an unpretending 
 house, not quite on the outskirts of the city, 
 but far enough out to have a wilderness-garden 
 of its own ; and the porch with its old-fashioned 
 lounging-chairs, and interlacing branches of 
 rose-vines, was a very comfortable place. 
 
 The effect of my constant visits came to 
 be evident in time. Miriam dressed for me, 
 looked for me, and I was not blind to the fact. 
 Here was my selfishness conspicuous. I could 
 not give up my own comfort, and the comfort 
 she gave me, though it might be to her hurt. 
 I saw the changing color, the quick conscious- 
 ness, the brightening of the face, as one who 
 will not see though the fact be self-evident. I 
 am afraid I enjoyed the knowledge, guilty as it 
 made me feel, contemptible as it was. 
 
 One day when she was at the piano, singing, 
 I spoke of the song as one nobody could sing 
 exactly like Hester. She burst into tears,
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 1 5 
 
 and left the room. All was revealed to me 
 then. 
 
 For a week I kept aloof from the pretty 
 home ; for a week I was torn with doubts and 
 fears. The girl had stirred my sympathies to 
 such a degree, that, had I been assured that 
 Hester had faltered once in her determination, 
 I would have married Miriam. 
 
 When I met her, she looked pale, and her eye 
 wandered. Her manner was colder and prouder, 
 as if she had schooled herself to composure. 
 She would not have pity. I saw that, and made 
 no change in my manner. Her mother spoke 
 of her fretfully ; whether she half surmised 
 what the trouble was, I could not tell. To 
 hints I was impervious. 
 
 " I wish Miriam could have gone with Hes- 
 ter," she said one day impatiently. " I think 
 her uncle might have taken her, though the 
 outfit would have cost pa a year's profit. Still, 
 it might have paid, Miriam is so beautiful ! 
 The child isn't well ; something frets her ; 
 whether or not it is Hester's letters, though 
 that can't be ; for I must say they are perfect 
 pictures, and well worth being printed." 
 
 " She is enjoying the old country, then ? " I 
 said. 
 
 " Enjoying it ! you ought to see Miriam's 
 letters. Now in a palace, now in some great
 
 1 6 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 cathedral ; pictures, statues, fountains ; lords, 
 ladies, balls, theatres, and parties, I should 
 think the child would die." 
 
 "Yet but just now you were saying that you 
 wished Miriam had gone." 
 
 " Oh, well ! " she colored, and cast a quick 
 glance at me that seemed both angry and im- 
 ploring. " Miriam is not such an enthusiast as 
 her cousin less excitable, and more even in 
 her temperament, as you must sometimes ob- 
 serve. And then yes, I do wish she had 
 gone, poor child ! " 
 
 I had taken up a book, conscious that her 
 words conveyed a covert reproach. Was it that 
 that angered me ? or the fact that I had never 
 seen one of those charming letters written by 
 the hand of my dear, absent love ? An unrea- 
 soning jealousy took possession of me. I began 
 to rack my brain for some method by which I 
 could get possession of them. In my course of 
 self-instituted study, I was reading "Theodo- 
 rus ; " and, chameleon-like, my mind took the 
 hue of his reasoning. In his moral scheme, 
 there is no eternal difference between good and 
 evil ; and so insensibly do one's ideas take color 
 from the quality of thought originated in a pow- 
 erful and creative brain, that for the time I 
 might have been his disciple without being 
 aware of the delusion. Thus, why might I not
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. I/ 
 
 practice a little guile for the better consumma- 
 tion of my object? All that remained to do 
 was to set my wits to work, to come oftener to 
 the cottage, to let myself bask in the smiles of 
 Hester's cousin, and the work was done. 
 
 I protest I meant no harm, either in my cogita- 
 tions or my intentions. I had been thrown in 
 the society of women all my life. There were 
 no boys in my mother's family. My twin was 
 a girl, from whom I had scarcely ever con- 
 cealed a thought, even in my college days. I 
 had been trained by my sisters. Dolly, she 
 who seemed flesh of my flesh, and for whose 
 sake I had often said I would never marry, 
 until I met Hester, pursued the same studies 
 that I did up to my last year at college, when 
 illness prevented her from keeping pace with 
 me. I was always more at home with women 
 than with men, always happier in their society. 
 
 Did the remembrance of my ministerial call- 
 ing come to the rescue ? Yes, more times than 
 I can count. Yet I was still a man, and not 
 yet aware of my own weakness. My reason 
 had not outgrown its callow youth, and I was 
 not then in the habit of making severe requisi- 
 tions of my conscience. 
 
 The plan worked admirably. In a week or 
 two Miriam was her arcfy beautiful self, and 
 I was drifting out into treacherous waters.
 
 IS TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 The color came back to her cheek, and the lustre 
 to her eye. I thought I could ignore all my un- 
 doing at my will which proves what an igno- 
 ramus he is who plans without reason. There 
 are moments in a man's career that he never 
 forgets. All through life, in one way or 
 another, they will be brought back to him 
 with photographic distinctness, the careless 
 thought, the idle action, even the unconsidered 
 words. 
 
 "By your words you shall be justified, and 
 by your words you shall be condemned, is a 
 tremendous practical law," says an old writer. 
 I believe it, for I have experienced the fact. 
 
 At last I had gained that point when I 
 decided to ask Miriam to show me Hester's let- 
 ters. I remember the afternoon when I locked 
 my study-door, and set out for the cottage. 
 
 It was a pleasant walk ; and all the outdoor 
 world was a picture, high in light, beautiful in 
 tints, rich in shadows. The sun shone softly 
 on the old-fashioned houses standing inside 
 of quaint gardens, for ours was a city not 
 despoiled of nature's handiwork. Many fine 
 old familie.s there were who made their homes 
 after the fashion of those their ancestors had 
 left more than a century before ; and every 
 place one passed, whether protected by a modern 
 iron fence, or only a well-kept hedge of living
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 19 
 
 green, was a study for an artist. I could have 
 fancied myself in some lovely old English town, 
 so exactly were such features reproduced as walls 
 covered with ivy ; cool arbors, over-arched with 
 elm and maple ; curious latticed windows ; mas- 
 sive porches ; leafy coverts that led into laby- 
 rinthine walks ; here a common, bright with 
 grass, and clumps of bushes and well-grown 
 trees ; there a bit of rustic woods, filled with 
 verdure of all colors, with thousands of sprays 
 of ferns, and gray moss clinging to every thing ; 
 again, a mass of crumbling rocks, all their fis- 
 sures aglow with treasures of bramble-blossoms, 
 and wild-strawberry leaves, and a thousand dyes 
 impossible to describe. 
 
 As I neared the little cottage where Miriam 
 lived, my heart beat faster. I knew I should 
 find her waiting for me, a happy smile on her 
 lips ; and I had told her I should ask a favor of 
 her, though I had not enlightened her as to 
 what its character was to be. 
 
 Did you ever succeed in convincing yourself 
 that you were not meaning any harm, when in 
 your very soul you knew you were walking on 
 forbidden ground ? If not, then you must have 
 been born a saint. 
 
 I had called Miriam sister and cousin, but my 
 actions challenged the hypocrisy.
 
 2O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " The dear old home, with orchards near 
 Of apple, plum, and downy peach." 
 
 MIRIAM was waiting for me, just as I had 
 fancied. A spray of apple-blooms at her 
 throat made her seem an incarnation of the 
 promised summer. The glow of cheek and 
 throat was more vivid than I had ever noticed 
 before ; and as in dreamland we do incredible 
 things, so in my waking dream the impression 
 of her beauty was so vivid, that I held her 
 hand until she herself withdrew it, blushing 
 and confused. 
 
 " Will you sit here ? " she asked, " or go in- 
 side ? Is it too cool for you outdoors ? " 
 
 It was all glare and sunshine here, albeit the 
 vines did their best to soften the light. Pre- 
 ferring the shadow just then, I went inside the 
 low-ceiled, comfortable parlor. I shall never 
 forget it as it looked on my entrance. On the 
 right and left of the fireplace stood immense 
 vases, brought from China when the captain,
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 21 
 
 Miriam's father, was in the service. All the 
 furniture was old-fashioned, and much worn, 
 but in good repair. The uniform polish of the 
 floor was broken by dainty rugs, all of them 
 bought in foreign bazaars, and rich with the 
 devices of Eastern looms. It was a place to 
 rest in, and in which Miriam's beauty shone 
 with tenfold lustre. 
 
 "See," said Miriam, when we were comfort- 
 ably seated, "what a beautiful gift to-day's 
 mail brought me." She held up a costly dia- 
 mond ring which sparkled on the third finger 
 of her left hand. 
 
 "People will say you are engaged," I said 
 lightly. " It should be a rich lover would give 
 you a ring like that." 
 
 " Can't you guess ? Hester sent it," she con- 
 tinued, the glow fading from her face. " And 
 in my letter is one for you ; and, if .you like, 
 you are to see all the letters she has written 
 me, so she says." 
 
 The visitation had fallen suddenly. I had 
 been weeks industriously planning how I should 
 consummate this matter, and here it was ready 
 done to my hand. I suppose I looked my as- 
 tonishment, for Miriam grew rosier yet. 
 
 "You don't seem so very glad," she said. 
 
 "No I that is, if you will pardon me, 
 may I have my letter ? "
 
 22 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Oh, certainly ! " she said, and went towards 
 a writing-desk in the corner, took the letter 
 therefrom, and handed it to me. 
 
 " Don't ask to be excused," she said ; and her 
 voice trembled a little. " Read it now, if you 
 wish to. You must be anxious to hear from 
 her." ^ 
 
 " Since this is the first letter she has written 
 me in fifteen months," I said, " I will take my 
 time in reading it." And the missive seemed 
 to burn me where I had thrust it, in my breast- 
 pocket. I cannot tell what spirit possessed 
 me, but I was kinder to the beautiful girl be- 
 fore me than I had ever been in my life. Per- 
 haps it was because of a consciousness that it 
 was the last time. I cannot remember that I 
 was troubled with any qualms of conscience; 
 they came afterward. I do not know that I 
 purposely demoralized myself, I think not ; 
 but I had gone so far that it seemed to matter 
 not what further risks I ran. 
 
 I know I took home with me a face beautiful 
 with hope, almost transfigured, in fact, and in 
 thinking of which, my heart sank within me 
 while I composed myself to read Hester's let- 
 ter. Miriam > had brought me a little packet 
 tied with ribbon as I left, and I am afraid I 
 called her "dear" when I thanked her. 
 
 In the privacy of my study I opened the let-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 2$ 
 
 ters, first her own to me, in which I read her 
 noble, lofty heart. 
 
 " I have come to the age of a maiden's lib- 
 erty, Harry, and I shall begin a correspondence. 
 If it does not seem graceful in me to take the 
 initiative step, lay it to my unchanging love." 
 
 My cheeks burned as I read her innocent 
 revelations. How nobly true she had been ! 
 What a heart was mine ! Was I worthy of such 
 affection ? 
 
 "After this," the letter went on, "write me 
 as often as you will. Mamma has made many 
 plans for me, but to no purpose, and I think 
 she has about given it up. We shall be here 
 some months longer, and bring home some 
 pretty things from the foreign bazaars ; for 
 papa has been prodigally generous, and I have 
 spent a little money myself." 
 
 I sat down that night, and wrote twenty 
 pages. All the fervor of my early love rushed 
 over my heart, and in that fervor I wrote. How 
 glad I was ! how free, how happy, I felt ! 
 
 Miriam's image faded out. I applied myself 
 more diligently to my studies. I had passed a 
 fair examination, and would soon be a full- 
 fledged priest. I had now no longer an excuse 
 to lead me to the house of Miriam. To tell the 
 truth, I was thoroughly ashamed of myself when 
 once I was in a situation to face my own treach-
 
 24 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 ery. I became magnanimous, and decided that 
 I would not even call on Miriam again, more for 
 her sake than mine. If I could but have seen 
 what this decision was to cost me ! I sent back 
 Hester's letters with a note that I should be 
 absent for several weeks on a visit to my sis- 
 ters. My face grew hot while I was writing it. 
 Oh, yes, I was very penitent ! and all those long 
 weeks Miriam lay in her bed raving with fever, 
 nigh to death's door. 
 
 Meantime I had reached Myrtle Mount, the 
 old homestead from under whose blessed roof I 
 had followed father and mother to the grave out 
 there in the little rustic garden of the dead at 
 the west of the village church. Dolly was not 
 yet quite recovered from a slight illness ; but I 
 heard her half laughingly, half sobbingly, call 
 my name as I stepped over the well-worn por- 
 tals. Another moment, and she was in my 
 arms, very pale, but very happy. God had been 
 good to me, I thought, in giving me so many 
 blessings. This dear little girl, so graceful and 
 lovely, with the beauty of soul irradiating every 
 feature, had always been one with me, and I was 
 her idol. How she had watched me, followed 
 me, clung to me! 
 
 " We told her she was killing herself trying 
 to keep up with you in Greek," said Anne, 
 whose great black eyes beamed on me from un-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 25 
 
 der her first pair of spectacles; "and, sure 
 enough, she came near it." 
 
 " Never mind ! I'll make it up yet," said 
 Dolly, an arm over my neck ; and, as she spoke, 
 she lifted the hair from my forehead, and kissed 
 it again and again. 
 
 " You are prettier than ever," I said, taking 
 the slight figure on my knee, while she lay in 
 my arms like a little child. " I never saw your 
 cheeks so red, or your eyes brighter." 
 
 Anne's eyes met mine, she had laid aside 
 the spectacles, and there was a strange, ear- 
 nest, yearning expression in her glance. Just 
 then I remembered that our mother had died of 
 consumption, beautiful to the last ; and a great 
 fear fell on my heart. 
 
 I forgot it, however, an hour after, when to- 
 gether we stood looking at the grand sunset, 
 whose splendid Tyrian dyes rolled down the hills, 
 followed by sheets of gold, and, as when we 
 were children, we saw islands of silver in oceans 
 of emerald, bordered by broad-branching palms 
 a hundred feet high. The clamor of the wild- 
 fowl in the air, the distant music of cow-bells, 
 the sweet fragrance of the hay, the far-off wind- 
 ing roads, and a glimpse of the river that 
 threaded its serpentine coils through miles of 
 verdure, how they brought back the heart of 
 the boy, till he forgot that the cares and trials 
 of manhood were in his future !
 
 26 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " I have a letter from Hester in my pocket,"- 
 I whispered, my arm . round Dolly's slender 
 waist. 
 
 " Is she coming home ? " asked Dolly. 
 
 " I hope so, soon." 
 
 "I didn't know I thought, maybe you 
 were tired of waiting, you know," she added, 
 looking away. 
 
 " Oh, no, darling ! she is worth waiting for," 
 was my reply. " I will let you see her letter, 
 but none of the rest. You are my second self, 
 you know." 
 
 "I was till she came," was the answer; "but 
 never mind, I have you a little while yet. Anne 
 is calling me ; they are too careful of me, but of 
 course we must go in. To-morrow we'll have a 
 romp as in the dear old times." 
 
 What change was there in my sweet little 
 sister ? She was like, yet unlike, the merry 
 child she had always seemed, with all her wis- 
 dom. 
 
 We all sat round the open fire that night, the 
 apples toasting on the hearth, and the quaint 
 old mug full of sweet cider on the stand beside 
 us. 
 
 " Have you any idea where you will be set- 
 tled ? " asked Anne, who sat next to me, knit- 
 ting lace. 
 
 "There is a talk of my going to old St.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 2/ 
 
 John's," I answered. "Of course I am too 
 young for it, but they seem to have made up 
 their minds. The salary is small, the parish 
 large, and the church not over-rich ; but I pre- 
 fer to take it with all its drawbacks. I might 
 be assistant rector of Trinity, with possibly a 
 larger salary ; but I like being my own master 
 too well for that. One might as well take the 
 responsibility at once." 
 
 " Yes, I think you are right," said Anne, who 
 had been gazing thoughtfully at the fire. "And 
 who is to be the new rector's wife ? " 
 
 She never looked towards me, but plied her 
 bright little needles. 
 
 " We heard it was Miss Miriam, old Captain 
 Hope's handsome daughter," said Dora. 
 
 " What ! heard that ! away out here ? Who 
 on earth told you such nonsense ? " I asked, 
 feeling the blood rush to my face. 
 
 "We have friends, you know, in the city," 
 said Belle, who was herself engaged to a lawyer, 
 a man whom I thought well off, but seldom met. 
 
 "Templeton told you." 
 
 Belle shook her head. 
 
 " It was a woman, you might know," said 
 Dolly sharply. 
 
 "Yes, it was a woman," said Anne ; "and, by 
 what she said, we had decided that you were 
 off with the old love, and on with the new."
 
 28 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! " I was nettled, but laughed. 
 
 " Yes, we really understood that you were 
 engaged," said Dora. 
 
 " Don't marry any of them," said Dolly im- 
 pulsively. " / '// keep house for you." 
 
 " I may call upon you sooner than you think," 
 I said. " I preach my trial sermon on the thir- 
 tieth." 
 
 " Oh, it would be delightful if only I could ! " 
 said Dolly, her beautiful eyes sparkling. 
 
 "Yes, I believe she would leave us all," spoke 
 up Anne, "and go to the ends of the earth with 
 you." 
 
 " So I would, if he needed me," was the reply. 
 "If only we two could go off as missionaries, 
 I'd be willing to die for the cause. Then," she 
 added, in an undertone, "you could get mar- 
 ried." 
 
 I had no time to answer this with a little 
 loving rebuke, as I intended ; for Belle asked 
 me to take up the apples, offering me a little 
 pair of silver tongs used for that purpose. 
 
 " Is Miss Miriam so very beautiful ? " que- 
 ried Anne, her keen, questioning eyes looking 
 straight in mine. 
 
 I knew my face was fever-red. I had not 
 dreamed of being followed to this place by the 
 ghost of my own indiscretion. 
 
 " She is a very handsome young lady," I said,
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 2Q 
 
 "but not nearly as lovely, in my eyes, as my 
 promised wife, Hester Vaughan." 
 
 " How the gossips do talk ! " said Belle angri- 
 ly. " Here we have been suffering keenly on 
 account of the scandal, as we thought it. Why, 
 an old friend of mine was actually told that Miss 
 Miriam Hope wore her engagement-ring, and 
 that the wedding-day was fixed. It seemed to 
 me that we might have received at least a hint 
 of the proposed change." 
 
 " Of course you would," I said, knowing not 
 what else to say. Did Miriam's reproachful 
 eyes look at me out of the flame ? 
 
 " Sister Anne, it seems to me you ought to 
 tell brother Harry who was our informant," 
 said Dora. 
 
 "Well, to be sure, the news came from a 
 very ordinary source," said Anne, smiling ; 
 " though the woman is one of the members of 
 St. John. Her husband is a tailor, and they 
 have a whole houseful of children. Her name 
 is Dickory ; and the male Dickory makes clothes 
 for Colonel Albright, our nearest neighbor, has 
 for years. This Mrs. Dickory, a very common 
 woman, always brings them home ; and she was 
 our informant. I expect the male Dickory 
 works also for Captain Hope, and that is how 
 the news originated." 
 
 " Plague take the gossips ! " I said ; but all the
 
 3O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 time there was a vigorous knocking at the door 
 of my conscience, and I would have given 
 worlds to undo the work of the past few months. 
 
 On the following day came the news of Mi- 
 riam's illness, through the same informant. 
 Anne met Mrs. Albright at the town-depot for 
 gossip, the store. They had put up prayers 
 for her at St. John : there was very little hope 
 of her life. 
 
 What my feelings were on receipt of this in- 
 telligence, I leave the reader to infer. All the 
 poetry of my visit to the home of my fathers 
 was blotted out. I felt myself her executioner, 
 and it was a bitter thought that I must lack 
 something of the qualities of true manhood in 
 my own eyes. I returned to the city sooner 
 than I should, dreading to hear the worst. 
 
 My fears were not realized. She was past 
 the danger, and recovering slowly. I wrote my 
 little sister the good news, together with the 
 fact that I had accepted the office of rector of 
 St. John ; that flie people had promised to 
 build me a parsonage ; and that, if Hester staid 
 abroad another year, she should keep house for 
 me till my bride came, and after that make her 
 home with us.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 3! 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " O Sorrow dark as death ! 
 
 . . . that I had been 
 Thy veiled prophet." 
 
 THE first face I glanced at in my first ser- 
 vice as rector of St. John was Miriam's. 
 
 Very pale she was, calm, cold, disdainful, and 
 beautiful as a saint. It was some weeks before 
 chance threw us together again. I held out 
 my hand. For a moment her lip trembled, and 
 her eye flashed. She seemed at first not will- 
 ing to shake hands, but thought better of it. 
 
 " You are my pastor," she said ; and the tone 
 was an accusing one. 
 
 " And soon to hold a nearer relation," I said, 
 quietly and firmly. 
 
 The blood surged up to her cheeks. For one 
 moment there was an expression in her face 
 that positively frightened me, it was so intense, 
 so evil. It was gone almost as quickly as it 
 came. 
 
 Her mother had been talking with a neigh- 
 bor in the next pew. Now she came forward.
 
 32 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Come, Miriam," she said, almost rudely. 
 
 " Is the captain well ? " I asked, determined 
 to be friendly. 
 
 "Thanks, no," she deigned to answer: "he 
 has been ill ever since my daughter got up. He 
 worried so over Miriam, I don't think he will 
 ever be himself again. He's very fond of Mr. 
 Lyon, who has administered spiritual consola- 
 tion while you were away." 
 
 Mr. Lyon was the rector of St. James, the 
 most influential parish and church in the dio- 
 cese, but the captain was one of the oldest 
 members of St. John. For a moment I felt the 
 humiliation she counted upon. But why did 
 they not all give up their pew at St. John, and 
 go to St. James ? I should have been better 
 pleased, looking my own soul in the face. The 
 sooner I forgot the past, the better, if I could j 
 or if I could have felt sure that Miriam's feelings 
 were altered towards me. Penitent enough. I 
 was, but that would not undo the past. I felt 
 sure, in the light of that experience, that I loved 
 only Hester, that I could never have felt other 
 than sentiments of admiration towards Miriam. 
 The question was settled in my mind forever. 
 
 But what of Miriam ? She had a certain 
 power a power to make me uncomfortable 
 to thrust herself upon my sermon-page, some- 
 times, to my indignation ; for I had almost to
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 33 
 
 wrestle with the inclination to look at her, 
 study her, wonder of what she could be think- 
 ing, of how she regarded me. 
 
 The old captain died in less than a month, 
 and now the faces of the two women deeply 
 bordered in black demanded my sympathy more 
 than ever. In that great trouble we seemed to 
 be brought nearer together, to forget that there 
 had been unkind thoughts, harsh judgment. 
 Miriam grew more like her old self: her mother 
 came to me for advice in her business affairs, as 
 well as for pastoral comfort. The captain had 
 not made much money, and of course they must 
 depend more or less on their own exertions. 
 There was enough to keep them for a time : 
 the house belonged to them. 
 
 " Miriam might keep school," said Mrs. Hope, 
 who possessed very little of the commodity her 
 name implied ; "but she is so delicate since her 
 sickness, that I want to spare her if I can". She 
 writes a beautiful hand : if there was any way, 
 she might make a little money by her pen as a 
 copyist or an amanuensis." 
 
 I promised to do my best. Quite sure by this 
 time of Miriam's forgiveness, our relations as- 
 sumed the old friendliness, if not the old famil- 
 iarity. I went oftener to the cottage, but it was 
 to consult with Mrs. Hope. When with Miriam, 
 I felt like an intruder, fearful that I might, out of
 
 34 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 sheer nervousness, say or do something my con- 
 science might not approve. I was cured of ex- 
 perimenting. I would not give it the plainer 
 name of flirting, out of respect to my calling. 
 Miriam seemed to me to be changed, more de- 
 vout, more gentle. Only now and then, if I 
 spoke of Hester, that strange expression that 
 had so startled me once before would come 
 into her face, and trouble me. 
 
 Meantime I continued to receive Hester's 
 wonderful letters. The dear child opened all 
 her heart to me, unfolded her treasures of 
 travel so vividly that it enabled me to see with 
 her eyes, and hear with her ears. 
 
 At last, the very night that the finishing- 
 touch was put upon the parsonage, I received 
 the letter that told of her intention to start on 
 the following Tuesday. She must then be 
 on the ocean. I could hardly rest, eat, or sleep. 
 I sent the news in a note to the Hopes, and 
 then schooled myself to wait. I passed the pro- 
 fessor's house on my way to St. John. All the 
 windows were open. Workmen were in the 
 grounds, carpets on the lawn : all was in a state 
 of bustle and activity through the mansion and 
 the grounds. I was the happiest man alive. 
 My love was coming back, as true to me as 
 when she gave her last adieu. No doubt, she 
 had met those who could and would have given
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 35 
 
 her station and riches. How could she help but 
 have admirers wherever she went ? 
 
 I walked on air. All heaven and earth seemed 
 to be keeping jubilee. 
 
 A black-robed figure met me. It was Miriam. 
 A -gentle pity stole into my heart in the midst 
 of my rejoicing. 
 
 " You have heard good news," she said ; and 
 I thought her lip quivered. 
 
 " Yes : they are almost here," was my brief 
 rejoinder. 
 
 " They ? you mean she ! " was her response ; 
 but her voice was strained and harsh. 
 
 " Surely you will be glad to see her," I said, 
 surprise nearly taking my breath away. 
 
 " No I hate her ! no I hate every thing 
 that is happy ! " she rejoined. 
 
 "Then, Miriam, you hate me," I said. 
 
 " Yes, I do," she said, giving way to sudden 
 passion. " You have wrecked my life, and you 
 know it ! You know it standing in that sacred 
 desk ; you know it in your moments of solitude ; 
 you will have the knowledge to make you still 
 happier when she is your wife." 
 
 "Miriam," I said gently, offering my arm, 
 "you must not stand here: you are trembling, 
 angry, beside yourself. Let me take you home." 
 
 " No," she replied, gasping : " I don't need 
 any help. I am going home by myself. I am
 
 36 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 wretched. I may have said too much, but I felt 
 it all." 
 
 She saw perhaps the absolute horror in my 
 face. 
 
 " I know what you think of me," she said rap- 
 idly, " but I don't care. I have wanted to tell 
 you what I felt ever since my illness. Now, 
 perhaps, my brain is giving way. I wish you 
 would let me go." She put her hand to her 
 head. 
 
 "The road is open," I said, stepping aside. 
 She started forward, but walked so unsteadily 
 I feared that she would fall. As for me, the 
 whole round horizon had turned dark. Had I 
 indeed wrecked her life? That was a grave 
 charge to a man in my position. And Hester ! 
 What would she say did ever a knowledge of 
 the fact come to her hearing? She would de- 
 spise me, and yet I could lay my finger on no 
 intentional evil deed. 
 
 This interview had completely demoralized 
 me. I went home, and threw myself on the 
 lounge in my study, her wild eyes and haggard 
 face a haunting memory. Then I rose, and 
 went to my desk. An unfinished sermon lay 
 beside an open book ; the lines, " Man is his 
 own worst enemy" the last I had penned, star- 
 ing me in the face. 
 
 I committed the deed of a madman. I wrote
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 37 
 
 mine enemy a letter, a letter any innocent 
 man might write, and yet be judged harshly by 
 prejudiced minds in the reading. 
 
 All the next day passed. Towards night 
 came a singular note. 
 
 " Please forget what I said. I have terrible headaches 
 since my illness, and they nearly drive me distracted. 
 You are safe with me. No one alive shall ever know 
 what I have suffered, or have cause to distrust you. 
 
 " Respectfully, 
 
 " MIRIAM." 
 
 I read it again and again. What had I said 
 in my letter? Written in the half -distracted 
 mood in which I then was, I could not recall a 
 sentence. I knew I had not turned state's evi- 
 dence against myself. It seemed to me that I 
 had written frankly, but at the same time cau- 
 tiously. How could I dream that she would 
 ever use that letter as a weapon against me ? 
 
 For a day or two I was uneasy and nervous, 
 but the feeling wore away. 
 
 Hester should never know of this one cloud 
 that had darkened the serenity of my life. Why 
 should she ? I reasoned. She had, no doubt, 
 leaned on other men's arms, looked into other 
 eyes, perhaps unconsciously formed liking into 
 love by their magnetic glances. I asked for no 
 confessions, neither did I, in my heart, be-
 
 38 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 lieve she had done these things, I would 
 make none. Miriam's anger had worn itself 
 out, a merely selfish anger, a fierce protest 
 against herself, and made against her will, so I 
 chose to think. 
 
 That night Miriam sat in her pew : she did 
 not often come on week nights. I had been 
 having some trouble with the choir : my mind 
 was wandering, and her face made me more 
 helpless still. She sat there like a fate the 
 woman in black perhaps a fixed hate in her 
 heart for life. How I got through the services, 
 I scarcely knew. I went home, and read all 
 Hester's letters, and, in recalling her lovely 
 presence, grew calmer and happier. Surely all 
 would be right, when, that dear face near to 
 mine, we sat together, and talked of the past, 
 and looked forward to the future !
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 39 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " A cottage home, a lowly place, 
 
 Painted by vines and climbing roses, 
 Nestled beyond a woodland space." 
 
 " TAEAREST Harry ! " 
 
 LJ With these words she greeted me, com- 
 ing forward with hands outstretched, with eyes 
 shining, the whole face transfigured into an 
 almost unearthly beauty. I could not realize 
 that my dear love sat by my side after almost 
 two years of absence. 
 
 The professor and his wife, submitting to the 
 inevitable, greeted me pleasantly, but without 
 demonstration ; while Hester, dear child, let her 
 heart speak. 
 
 " It's so good to be back ! " she said at our 
 second meeting. " I am more in love with my 
 own surroundings than ever. And I've brought 
 home such stacks of pretty things ! And you 
 really think me improved ? I'm glad of that. 
 Do you want to know what I think of you ? To 
 use an Americanism, you are positively splendid
 
 4O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 with those lovely whiskers. My dear Hal, you 
 are quite too handsome for a clergyman ; though 
 I don't doubt you look like a saint in your robes 
 at dear old St. John's. How I long to see you 
 in them ! To think you should have such an 
 important charge as the old mother church ! 
 And the rectory is that completed ? " 
 
 " Quite finished, " I said. " I hope it will 
 please you. The plans I superintended myself, 
 remembering your wishes ; and it is as conven- 
 ient as pretty." 
 
 " Poor mamma ! " laughed Hester. " She had 
 such high hopes for me ! She counted so much 
 on this European tour ! But I would be a poor 
 minister's wife in spite of the honors that were 
 within my reach ; and I assure you there were 
 several," she added seriously. "However, one 
 of them, a Russian count, had a terribly red nose, 
 and was almost three times my age. His castle 
 was a horrible old barn of a place, and he had 
 six married daughters. And then there was a 
 German baron with a square chin ; but he was 
 so dreadfully cross-eyed, that I never could look 
 at him without laughing. And O Harry ! 
 there was one, that had I not been very much 
 in love, and honorable to the last degree, I might 
 have been tempted to flirt with. I am afraid I 
 did, just a little." 
 
 I laughed outright at her comical assumption 
 of penitence.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 4! 
 
 " You are forgiven," I said ; but a slight 
 twinge of jealousy followed the admission. 
 
 " He wasn't quite as handsome as you are ; 
 but he was nice, and so attentive ! I thought I 
 had best tell you that, though I was as true as 
 steel to you. I did perhaps allow him to think 
 a little more of me than he should, and I was 
 well punished for it." 
 
 " Dear heart, how ? " I asked. 
 
 " By my own self-contempt when I realized 
 what I had done. I assure you I prayed heart- 
 ily for forgiveness, but prayer and penitence 
 seldom efface results of that kind." 
 
 Here was my opportunity for confession, but 
 my proud man's will rebelled. The conflict 
 within made me assume a sterner demeanor 
 than was usual with me, even when offended. 
 But confess to a woman ! never ; particularly 
 the woman who was to be my wife. 
 
 "I see what you think," she said, "and it 
 overwhelms me with confusion. But you are 
 my rector, and I thought the confession due to 
 one who was to be my second self. Ought we 
 to have secrets from each other ? " she asked 
 sweetly. 
 
 "By no means," I answered eagerly. "I 
 would have all your love, all your heart, all your 
 life. What became of this young man ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Lord Glenlynn a beautiful name,
 
 42 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 you observe. Well, he didn't die, that I know 
 of. He only pulled his mustache till I thought 
 it would come out, and with a few bitter words 
 took his leave. I was really very sorry for the 
 whole thing. And mamma ! Heavens ! how she 
 did storm about it ! She has never forgiven 
 me." 
 
 Should I tell her of that little episode ? It 
 is not the woman only who is lost if she hesi- 
 tates. 
 
 I was on the point of speaking, when a lovely 
 child came dancing into the room. She looked 
 like one of Correggio's angels : a sweet and 
 sublime beauty played over her expressive face. 
 Her every motion was grace itself. 
 
 " Come here, Marguerite," said Hester. 
 "This is my little English cousin, Hal. She 
 took a great fancy to us ; and, as she was an 
 orphan, her uncle consepted that she should 
 come to America. Mamma wanted some one 
 to take my place, you know by and by." A 
 blush heightened the brilliant complexion. She 
 kissed Marguerite as she led her to me. 
 
 "This gentleman is going to be your cousin, 
 also," she said, smiling. "She is only nine 
 years old, Hal : isn't she lovely ? " 
 
 I took the little white hand in mine. Her 
 eyes were blue, her glorious hair fell in waves 
 of gold below her belt. In a brief time we were
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 43 
 
 acquainted. She had displayed all her little 
 treasures, her chatelaine watch, a turquoise 
 ring, and a locket containing her mother's hair. 
 
 "My sweet mother is in heaven," she said; 
 " and I will show you her picture, sometime, when 
 every thing is unpacked. Papa was a curate; 
 are you one ? " 
 
 " I am a clergyman," I said. 
 
 " I am glad of that. I used to love papa so 
 well in his white robes ! I expect he looks like 
 that in heaven. I know exactly how mamma 
 looks, because I see her very often." 
 
 I turned to Hester, who lifted her eyebrows. 
 
 " It's a little fancy she has," she said a min- 
 ute after, in an aside. " It seems to make her 
 happier, so we don't meddle with it." 
 
 " You mean you dream of mamma," I said. 
 
 " Oh, no ! you mistake me if you think that," 
 said the little one, with a wise shake of the head, 
 and a wondrous light in the depths of her blue 
 eyes. " I see her just as I see you. She comes 
 in the room ; and sometimes she sits down, and 
 sometimes she stands ; but she is always so 
 happy ! I used to think she was really dead, 
 but I don't any more." 
 
 " What does this mean ? " I asked of Hester 
 aside. "The child is not quite right in her 
 mind." 
 
 " Best not notice it, dear : we don't. In fact,
 
 /[/} TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 we knew nothing about it till we were on the 
 ocean, when one night a very stormy night 
 I heard her talking, and, on asking her who was 
 there, was startled by the answer, 
 
 " Only mamma ! " 
 
 I knew mother was in the next stateroom, and 
 it puzzled me till she spoke again. 
 
 " I was terribly afraid," she said, " the boat 
 spills over so ; and it seemed to me we should go 
 down : so I prayed ; and God sent mamma, who 
 told me there was no danger. God would take 
 us safe to America." 
 
 I assure you I felt very solemn for a moment. 
 
 " Has she gone ? " I asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! she often comes and goes that 
 way," was her reply. 
 
 "A strange child," I said, "but exceedingly 
 beautiful. We must try and get this fantasy 
 out of her head." 
 
 "Maybe you can, though I doubt it," said 
 Hester. " But I am anxious to see the rectory. 
 Can we go now ? " 
 
 " Certainly," I said : so Hester sent the child 
 to her mother, and we were soon on the way.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 45 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " And the marriage bells they merrily rang, 
 
 While the maiden sang, ' Heigh-ho ! 
 My harp so still on the willow I'll hang : 
 
 He should have married me O. 
 And now I must sorrow alone, alone, 
 While she sits and sings by her ain hearthstone.' " 
 
 MY love was in a mood to be pleased with 
 every thing she saw. Still, the rectory left 
 nothing to be desired. I had studied her con- 
 venience, and followed wishes that I had treas- 
 ured up when they fell like chance words from 
 her lips. 
 
 "Papa bought me three perfect pictures," 
 she said, when we stood in the pretty parlor. 
 " How lovely they will look in this light ! That 
 arch, too, is exactly what I wanted ; and some 
 stamped velvet I bought in Genoa because it was 
 awfully cheap, will be just the thing for a por- 
 tiere. You know papa insists upon furnishing, 
 so I shall give him carte blanche. I think he 
 is secretly pleased that I resisted all mamma's 
 attempts at match-making. In his dear big
 
 46 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 heart he thinks the world of you, I know he does. 
 Besides, I should have disappointed him if I had 
 been fickle." 
 
 " By the way, we are not far from there," she 
 added, as we left the rectory, and I turned the 
 key : "won't you go with me to Miriam's ? Poor 
 cousin Miriam ! it was such a sorrow to lose her 
 father ! they were all the world to each other." 
 
 I caught my breath. 
 
 " I hope you were very kind to Miriam," she 
 went on, looking up the street. " Of course 
 you were with them in all their trouble." 
 
 "I was there some of the time," I said in 
 measured words. " But are you really anxious 
 to call to-day ? " 
 
 " Really and truly I am," she said, and stepped 
 firmly on towards Miriam's house. "Why 
 don't you want to go ? Am I taking you from 
 any work ? You said you would give me to-day 
 and" 
 
 "Of course I am yours to command," I said, 
 and walked on beside her. I had not seen Mi- 
 riam since I had met her that last memorable 
 time on the street, and sent her the letter. 
 Her mother was not well, I learned ; but I had 
 not yet had the courage to call. I excused 
 myself by thinking, that, if my services were 
 needed, I should be sent for. 
 
 Miriam came to the door, pale and wan. The
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 47 
 
 meeting between the cousins was very touching. 
 She hardly noticed me, and I was glad that she 
 felt it her duty to be formal. Then- Hester 
 went up-stairs to see her aunt, whom she found 
 worn and ill. 
 
 " How strange it all seems ! " said Hester, 
 when we were again on the sidewalk. " Miriam 
 and auntie are both so changed ! And don't 
 you see them often ? They spoke of you as if 
 you had been a stranger. I thought I laid my 
 commands on you to be very cordial," she added 
 playfully. 
 
 " I tried to be, I assure you," was my reply. 
 
 "But there's a sort of antipathy between you, 
 or rather towards you. I can see it in every 
 thing," said Hester. "What is the matter? 
 Auntie said she shouldn't think of sending for 
 you if she were ever so ill ; and Miriam said, 
 sternly, ' Hush, mother ! ' and there the matter 
 dropped. Are they angry with you ? " 
 
 "Not that I am aware of," I said. It was 
 not to be expected now that I should tell my 
 little story : Miriam and her mother had put 
 that out of the question. " Since the captain's 
 death, Mrs. Hope has been very cool," I added, 
 at a venture. "We can make that all right in 
 time." 
 
 Hester seemed satisfied. 
 
 " Auntie always was a little cranky," she said,
 
 48 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " and Miriam has often had to apologize for her. 
 Uncle Hope, it seems, left them almost poor ; 
 but I am certain father will do all he can for 
 them. Now tell me about your sisters : are 
 they all well ? " 
 
 I told her of my visit home, and how Dolly 
 wanted to keep house for me. 
 
 " And so sHe may : let her come, the dear lit- 
 tle thing ! How I should love her ! It would 
 do me good to see her sweet face about the 
 house. And you know we can afford it : I have 
 a little purse of my own." 
 
 " We will see what Dolly says," was my an- 
 swer, blessing her in my thought. 
 
 "Dolly must say yes," said Hester emphat- 
 ically : and how precious she seemed to me, 
 thus taking the initiative in a matter that was 
 very near my heart ! for I felt that Dolly needed 
 the influence of younger and merrier life than 
 she saw at the old homestead ; needed to be 
 won from her scholarly ambition to read Hebrew 
 and Greek, and plod through the dusty, musty 
 old folios in my father's library. Hitherto she 
 had lived only in the realm of the imagination ; 
 and her affection had centred itself upon her 
 twin brother, to the exclusion of every outside 
 friendship. One little line in one of her letters 
 will give the reader stronger evidence of this 
 than all I could say.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 49 
 
 "Dearest, if there were no Christ, I should 
 worship you." 
 
 Love was an innate quality of her being ; and 
 I longed to have her meet with some kindred 
 nature, upon whom she could pour out the rich 
 treasure of her innocent heart. 
 
 "We won't be selfish in our new life," said 
 Hester, looking up sweetly. 
 
 " It is not in you to be selfish, my love," I 
 said fervently. " How shall I tell you what a 
 treasure you are? " 
 
 " How ? why, in any way you please : it is 
 only the matter of when. Wait a while till the 
 metal is tried, and we are some years older. 
 Then you shall tell me," she said. 
 
 Time passed on. The wedding was quietly 
 celebrated at St. John's. We were married by 
 the rector of St. James, the reverend Archibald 
 Lyon. Mrs. Vaughan shed real tears, regret- 
 ful ones, no doubt, that her daughter should 
 have thrown herself away on a poor minister ; 
 but we were happy. Hester looked radiant, 
 and beautiful as an angel in the loveliest wed- 
 ding-dress that ever came from the hands of a 
 French artist in bridal trousseaus ; and Dolly, 
 in her delicate beauty, suggested an attendant 
 seraph. My sisters were all there ; and, when 
 I faced the throng, did Hester feel my nervous 
 start, the trembling of my arm, as my eye en-
 
 5<D TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 countered the pale, set face of her cousin Mi- 
 riam ? There she sat, at the head of the family 
 pew, all in white, not a touch of color visible 
 except in the wild, glittering eyes that dumbly 
 reproached me with their unutterable agony. 
 What right had she thus to depress and haunt 
 me ? Could I help it if she had given her love 
 unasked ? How was I to know that the inev- 
 itable tendency of many women was to worship 
 their minister in place of their God ? to set him 
 on a pinnacle so high, that the least of his 
 smiles meant more than the most earnest pro- 
 testations of other men ? Believe me, a clergy- 
 man who respects his calling, and has outgrown 
 the vanity of inexperience, never feels flattered 
 by these undue assumptions of reverence 
 towards himself. 
 
 If I had but told Hester all, her loving heart 
 would not have chided me, though she might 
 condemn my thoughtless conduct. But, once 
 confessed, there would have been no more con- 
 cealments, on that score at least. 
 
 And now I began my work in good earnest. 
 Work it was, too, visiting the sick; consulta- 
 tions with my vestry ; putting my church-study 
 in order, for I had brought the best part of my 
 father's books to the rectory ; meeting with the 
 scarcely known members of my flock, who were 
 as yet to me only like faces seen in dreams ;
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 5 I 
 
 getting acquainted with the members of the 
 choir, a quartet of exceptionally fine voices ; 
 meeting the unavoidable cases of boredom, im- 
 becility, mendacity, and mendicancy, which in 
 a church of that size adhere to the congrega- 
 tion, and, like all other calls upon time and 
 patience, must be answered. 
 
 It was such sweet relief to go into my own 
 home, and find Hester occupied with womanly 
 work, but never too busy to hurry to my arms, 
 and nestle for a glad moment in my bosom. 
 Then came blessed peace and rest, such as I 
 had never looked for in my wildest imaginings. 
 
 It took me weeks, nay, months, to get wonted 
 to the new atmosphere of this beautiful home. 
 Hester's parents had been more than liberal 
 in fitting up each room ; giving to each a char- 
 acter and an harmony of its own, so that there 
 was no dreary triviality of sameness, but real 
 picturesque treatment of furniture and belong- 
 ings. Hester's good taste was responsible for 
 most of the details, and for the beauty and 
 symmetry of the order of arrangement. The 
 study was a marvel of neatness and conven- 
 ience. There I was wont to write my sermons, 
 with Hester sitting at her own table opposite 
 mine, where she wrote her letters, read or sewed, 
 as suited her fancy. We had a cook whose skill 
 had been tested in the professor's kitchen, and
 
 52 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 she needed no higher recommendation. Having 
 passed with credit from under the skilled eye 
 of Hester's mother, the daughter could safely 
 leave all culinary matters to her judgment and 
 economy. 
 
 My own man, Jenkins, who had graduated 
 under my father's eye, attended to the more or- 
 dinary household duties, took care of my horse, 
 furnace, and stable, so that to a certain extent 
 we were quite care-free. Jenkins was tall, lean, 
 and supple, Irish to the backbone, and in the 
 matter of ears prodigious. These features 
 stood guard over an enormous pair of bushy red 
 whiskers, and full two inches from his rather 
 flat temples. He was devoted to my interests, 
 and seemed more like a friend than a servant. 
 
 It was an almost ideal state of existence, save 
 those intervals where death, and all its attend- 
 ant sorrows, taxed both heart and brain. Not 
 a day passed but little Marguerite came in 
 from school, and she often sat down to our 
 meals with us. 
 
 " Why won't Dolly come here ? " asked Hes- 
 ter one day, when the meat went from table 
 seemingly as intact as when it came in. "We 
 want somebody to help us eat, if nothing else. 
 And she is so pretty and sweet ! Besides, when 
 you are away, she would be such company ! " 
 
 "You have so many callers, dear," I said.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 53 
 
 " Not so very. Miriam came to-day ; but I 
 couldn't prevail upon her to stay, though she 
 wanted to look the house all over. I told her 
 you would be so glad, but no. She must 
 gather up her things, and be off. She isn't a 
 bit cousinly. Her trouble seems to have al- 
 tered her. But little Dolly might be so happy 
 here ! Who was the lady that left your study 
 this morning with a roll of music in her hand? 
 I happened to be out picking roses in the 
 garden when she passed." 
 
 " It must have been the new organist, a Mrs. 
 Stanley. Tom Tracy, our tenor, has been mak- 
 ing application for her for some months. She 
 seems a very lady-like person, and has, of course, 
 a history. Her husband drinks." 
 
 " I should think he would," said Hester 
 quietly. 
 
 I looked at my wife in astonishment. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " I asked. 
 
 " I mean what I say. I don't like her face : 
 I don't think her a woman who would try to 
 make her husband happy. I should distrust 
 her." 
 
 " My dear ! " I said, wondering if the woman's 
 rather exceptional beauty had roused a latent 
 jealousy. I could really think of no other 
 reason. 
 
 " Oh, well ! " and she laughed lightly : " time
 
 54 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 will tell. If she had applied to me instead of 
 the rector, I should have dismissed her at 
 once." 
 
 " Not, perhaps, if you had heard her play," I 
 made answer. " She handles the organ with 
 the skill and taste of a master." 
 
 "That would have made no difference," said 
 Hester, with a pertinacity that surprised me. 
 "I judge her by her face. What kind of a man 
 is your tenor ? " 
 
 " One of my best friends, handsome, gentle- 
 manly, and reliable. Do you remember the 
 Mrs. and Miss Tracy I introduced you to last 
 Sunday ? " 
 
 " Ah ! do I not ? There was a grief in that 
 sweet countenance, I speak of the elder 
 woman, that went to my heart. The daugh- 
 ter is charming. Oh, yes ! I remember them." 
 
 "They are Tom Tracy's wife and daughter." 
 
 " Charming people ! I must know them bet- 
 ter," said Hester. " So," she added musingly, 
 " Mr. Tracy has long wanted this new organist. 
 Well, I hope you will all enjoy her music : I am 
 sure I shall not." 
 
 " You grieve me, Hester," I said. 
 
 " I see I do. You think I am suspicious or 
 fanciful. Never mind : I've nothing more to 
 say about it. And, as to my impressions, am I 
 never to speak to you about them ? "
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 55 
 
 " By all means ! tell me every thing," I said 
 eagerly. " I may be guarded by them more 
 than you think." 
 
 " Yes : I think perhaps I had better," said 
 Hester. " Papa always trusted to my judg- 
 ment. It was his habit to ask me what I thought 
 about people who came to him for advice." 
 
 " My darling ! it shall be mine," I said as we 
 rose from table. 
 
 "Sometimes it may be of benefit," she said 
 gently : " there are letters ! I know the post- 
 man's ring." 
 
 Jenkins came in with six or seven letters on 
 a beaten silver card-receiver, a souvenir of the 
 Continent. 
 
 I opened mine, and laid them aside, one after 
 the other, till I came to one from Dolly. That 
 I began to myself, but soon read aloud. 
 
 " Mr. Templeton has been so kind as to interest him- 
 self in me. He is going to give me a place as copyist in 
 his own office. Now I will come to you gladly if you will 
 have me. I shall be busy only six hours a day. The 
 rest of the time I will gladly devote to Hester and you. 
 Now, for the first time in my life, I feel really independ- 
 ent," etc. 
 
 Hester clapped her hands, performing sundry 
 little antics, that in the eyes of wise people 
 might have seemed utterly childish, and finished
 
 56 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 by taking hold of my whiskers, and kissing me 
 on the forehead. 
 
 " Lovely ! lovely ! " she exclaimed. " It is 
 the desire of my heart, and I will gladly give 
 her a share in you. But who is Mr. Templeton, 
 pray ? " 
 
 I explained that it was my sister Belle's fianct. 
 
 " And so little Miss Independence must work 
 for a living ! We'll soon wean her from that 
 notion. She is a lily, and ought not to toil or 
 to spin."
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Love, jealousy is cruel ! 
 
 I say it lying here, 
 I that have loved you madly 
 For many and many a year." 
 
 A LETTER THAT WILL EXPLAIN ITSELF. 
 
 MY DEAR LESLIE, I don't want to 
 tell you, but I must. Another anonymous 
 letter came to me last night. I read it how 
 could I help it ? and then I took it up with the 
 tongs, and held it over the sitting-room fire till 
 it writhed and scorched, as my heart did while 
 reading it. You told me to go to the rector. 
 Alas ! he is too new, and too young. What 
 would he think of me ? Yes, I burned the let- 
 ter ; but its contents burned themselves first 
 into my brain, thus. Imagine the words, 
 coals of fire. 
 
 " / have warned you repeatedly of Mrs. S. [ the 
 same Mrs. Stanley I have spoken of before~\. 
 You will find that T. T. [ that's Tom Tracy, my
 
 58 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 husband] has at last got her a situation as or- 
 ganist in St. JoJin. Did I not warn you three 
 months ago ? None so blind as those who will 
 not see ! However, you will not be blind very 
 long. A True Friend." 
 
 Who can this be, this " true friend," who 
 would have me distrust my husband ? O Les- 
 lie ! he has been very dear to me. I married him 
 when I was only fifteen and an orphan ; and he 
 has been to me father, mother, brother, sister, 
 husband. I cannot think wrong of him, I 
 will not ! And yet it is a fact that the vestry 
 have just hired and installed this Mrs. Stanley 
 to be the organist at St. John. I cannot yet 
 bring myself to speak of it to Tom, though I 
 have tried several times. I am so sorry, for 
 I know these terrible suspicions are changing 
 my nature. Marie takes notice. 
 
 " You are not as nappy as you were, dearest 
 mamma," she said to me the other day. " Is 
 it because of Charley ? " Dear heart ! I love 
 Charley almost as much as I do her. He has 
 grown up under my eyes, as it were, from year 
 to year ; and his love of Marie is almost idola- 
 try. Yet, loving him as I do, I would rather 
 see Marie dead before my eyes than dream that 
 she could ever be forced to suffer such torments 
 as wring my very heart with anguish. When I
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 59 
 
 see the two together, I am reminded of my own 
 engagement, and how utterly happy we both 
 were, Tom and I ! Has it come to this, that I 
 suspect him who has been my darling for so 
 many years ? No, no ! I am deceived : I must be. 
 Some enemy wishes to plant thorns in my heart. 
 Rather would I die than believe this thing 
 oh, yes, a thousand times ! and yet why does 
 he never mention this woman ? If he would 
 only speak her name, or speak of her, the ice 
 would be broken. Then I could say my say, 
 if it killed me. But he will not confide in me. 
 It would take so few words to lift this weight 
 from my bosom so few ! 
 
 Perhaps I could give you a pen-picture of her 
 the woman. Moderately tall, more than fair, 
 dark-gray eyes, auburn hair, features perfect in 
 every line, a bloom on her cheek, not of na- 
 ture, I think, lips red and tempting, and a 
 curiously caressing manner that takes with cer- 
 tain people, an assumption of childlikeness. 
 They say oh ! why do I allow myself to use 
 the ordinary formula of gossip-mongers ! that 
 he has been seen on the street with her, that 
 she visits at his office, that he has aided her 
 with his advice with money. They say her 
 husband is a drunkard, and treats her vilely. 
 Is that a reason why she should covet mine ? 
 He gives her advice gratis many lawyers do
 
 6O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 that; he lends her money that is a common 
 thing among friends, and for pity : but why 
 dont he tell me, his ivife? I would pity her 
 too : I would give her sympathy, aid. Why 
 should he be so deadly silent about it ? I know 
 he is naturally secretive in business matters, 
 but this is between souls : it imbitters my life. 
 If I had not you, true friend, to come to, I 
 should die. God help me ! what am I saying ? 
 Our new clergyman is much appreciated. 
 He and his wife are a lovely couple if he is 
 not spoiled : can he be spoiled ? I doubt all 
 men. His wife's name is Hester, the name 
 of my dead mother, my dead sister. That en- 
 deared her to me at once. She was the daugh- 
 ter of the professor of Hebrew at the college, 
 and I believe we have a prize in her. I thought 
 she seemed to read me to the innermost core 
 of my heart. Something in the clasp of her 
 hand sent a thrill through me. Young as she 
 was, it seemed to me as if I could go to her for 
 sympathy, yes, quicker than I would dare go 
 to my own dear husband. Oh ! I picture to 
 myself so many terrible things ! Is my fancy 
 diseased, I wonder ? I see myself on my dying- 
 bed, and Tom, stern and unmoved, standing 
 over me, commanding me not to die, and yet 
 unwilling to say the word that would raise me, 
 though I lay in the tomb, as did Lazarus. Is it
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 6 1 
 
 because I am exacting, jealous ? I was never 
 jealous before in all my life ; and Tom has so 
 many, many lady friends ! But open friend- 
 ship, ever so ardent, never troubles me: it is 
 these strange, secret things that others see and 
 report, and that I am forced to notice in spite 
 of myself. 
 
 Sometimes I am tempted to follow him, but 
 I dare not. Suppose I should meet them to- 
 gether : why, they might casually have fallen into 
 each other's society ; it might be the most inno- 
 cent thing in the world : but what should I do ? 
 How do I know but sudden madness might take 
 possession of me, and I disgrace myself and him ? 
 God help me ! what shall I do ? Every Sunday 
 my heavy heart hangs weights upon my feet ; 
 and so I drag myself to church, either to tor- 
 ment myself, or sit in silent judgment on him. 
 Can I do this much longer ? No : he must have 
 pity on me some time. He must see that I suf- 
 fer, yet never asks me why. He must notice 
 my pallor, I that had the ruddy color of a child 
 in cheek and lip less than a year ago. Dear 
 friend, what do you counsel me ? I have no 
 power to bring his mind into affinity or rapport 
 with my own, else I would will him, even in his 
 sleep, to answer my soul's torment, even with 
 doubtful words. Sometimes I think, that, as I 
 am not well, my mind is tinged unnaturally with
 
 62 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 the morbid condition of my body ; but I have 
 been worse physically, and yet had no sorrow 
 like this. 
 
 Write me something of comfort, for my heart 
 lieth like lead in my bosom : I seem to be dying 
 for one word ,of comfort. Presently I shall be 
 better acquainted with our good rector's wife, 
 Hester. I know she will help me, young as she 
 is ; but then, after all, sympathy is but sym- 
 pathy. I want the truth. Farewell. 
 
 AMY ADELINE TRACY.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 63 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Sometimes the marriage-bells are sweet, 
 
 And sometimes harsh and bitter : 
 Where two discordant natures meet, 
 They seem for burial fitter." 
 
 DOLLY had been with us now for some 
 months, and I was delighted to see a decided 
 improvement in her health. Familiarity with 
 abstruse studies and the best literature had 
 fitted her in a peculiar degree for the work she 
 was engaged in during four days of the week. 
 I was not at all surprised when I learned that 
 she was writing tales and poems for one or two 
 of the minor magazines. To Hester it was won- 
 derful that a young girl reared in the country 
 should develop into a genius. To me, who 
 had been in earlier years her teacher as well as 
 twin soul, it seemed natural that there should 
 be a oneness of thought and sympathy between 
 us, and also that she should use her power in 
 striking out into a new and delightful venture, 
 which was to bring both money and fame. 
 Hester and Dolly were like sisters when to-
 
 64 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 gather ; for then Dolly's clear, rich tones rang 
 out in sweet old-fashioned songs, or Hester 
 played her beloved violin, or I read to them from 
 some new book, or perhaps, after some little 
 coaxing, Dolly gave us one of her stories, or 
 quaint little poems, before publication. 
 
 You may fancy us seated about the great cen- 
 tre-table, whose wrought cover was the work of 
 Hester's cunning fingers. Just under the gas- 
 light sits Dolly, a picture fair to .see, the rose- 
 color of maiden modesty, as she lisps in musical 
 numbers, or reads us a charming prose-sketch. 
 
 " Now, this, I think, should be set to music," 
 said Hester, after Dolly had read a poem en- 
 titled, " What Was It to Me ? " 
 
 She ran to the piano. 
 
 I knew this old tune would fit it, she said, 
 laughing. " Listen ! " 
 
 If you knew what was brewing, O lady mine ! 
 
 You wouldn't sit there so calm and sweet, 
 With the golden missal upon your knee, 
 
 And the silken hassock under your feet. 
 You'd storm and rage ; and that yellow hair, 
 It wouldn't be safe, perhaps, to tear. 
 But then, what is it to me ? 
 
 If you only knew, O lady proud ! 
 
 That down in the primrose-covered bower, 
 Your Geraldine, with her eyes so blue, 
 
 And her scarlet lips, and her queenly dower,
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 65 
 
 Listens to one who has never a sou, 
 And is low as the lowest peasant to you ! 
 But then, what is it to me ? 
 
 The boy is handsome and bold and vain, 
 With a pride as grand as my lady's own. 
 
 He painted the pretty Geraldine 
 
 As a royal princess, his heart her throne ; 
 
 And his love grows stronger, his hopes more wild, 
 
 Till now he is seeking to win the child. 
 // may be something to me ! 
 
 My lady has risen in wrath, and thrown 
 
 Her golden, carven missal down ; 
 She will hie herself to the rosy bower, 
 
 Her soul all fire, her face all flame ; 
 She will rage like a Fury at him, I ween, 
 And threaten the Lady Geraldine 
 With many a woe, ah me ! 
 
 And so he lingers in vain, in vain, 
 
 For the ancient castle is empty now. 
 I can see him walking the oaks between, 
 
 With no one to listen to song or vow ; 
 For the ladies are sailing over the deep, 
 And I, the butler, the household keep. 
 // was fifty pound to me. 
 
 " What a mercenary wretch ! " said Hester 
 as she left the piano, and resumed her knitting. 
 The door-bell rang. 
 
 " Good-by, comfort," added my wife. " Some-
 
 66 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 body for you, no doubt. Dolly, we'll go into 
 the other room." 
 
 "Wait a while," I said: "it may be some 
 one to see you." 
 
 Jenkins made his appearance. 
 
 " A couple to be married, sir," he announced 
 with due solemnity. "Will you have them 
 in?" 
 
 " Of course I'll have them in." 
 
 " You and Dolly must remain as witnesses," 
 I said. 
 
 " On one condition," said Hester, " that I 
 shall have the fee." 
 
 I readily promised her she might. I could 
 safely do that without detriment to my ex- 
 chequer. These unheralded marriages are sel- 
 dom remunerative. I went into the study for 
 my robe, and, presently coming back, found my 
 visitors waiting. The groom was good-looking, 
 young, tall, angular, but not ungraceful. The 
 young lady was petite and very pretty ; and her 
 dress, though by no means costly, Hester after- 
 wards assured me was a marvel of good taste. 
 
 There was something about the two that 
 roused my curiosity. He was somewhat rest- 
 less, and seemed anxious to hurry on the cere- 
 mony : she looked about in a frightened way, 
 and did not seem at her ease until she met his 
 kindly glance that seemed to re-assure her.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. O/ 
 
 I examined the certificate. It was correct 
 as far as I could judge, and I had proceeded 
 half through the marriage service when the bell 
 rang furiously. 
 
 " A mad woman, sir," said Jenkins, as a tall 
 woman passed by him, throwing aside his out- 
 stretched arm, and rushing into the room. 
 
 Mad she certainly seemed, with eyes aflame, 
 burning cheeks, and garments evidently thrown 
 on in great haste. 
 
 " Sir, I forbid this marriage ! I forbid it ! 
 Don't you say another word ! " she gasped, as 
 she placed herself between me and the two 
 lovers. 
 
 " Mother ! for God's sake, let us alone ! " said 
 the man in a husky voice. " Haven't you tor- 
 mented us enough ? " 
 
 " I say you shall never marry her, never ! Sir, 
 he is not of age ; " and she turned to me, glaring. 
 
 "But his certificate says of lawful age," I 
 ventured. 
 
 " I am : I swear it," said the young man, 
 much excited. " My mother hates Ida : she 
 has always hated her." 
 
 "^She shall never be your wife with my con- 
 sent ; and, if you marry her, I will curse you ! " 
 was the savage- retort. 
 
 " O Sam ! I couldn't bear that," said the 
 young girl, now speaking for the first time, her
 
 68 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 eyes full of tears. " I would be a good wife to 
 you, Sam, indeed I would ; but if I knew she 
 cursed me, your mother! I'd never hold 
 up my head again." 
 
 "She's got that much sense," muttered the 
 woman. 
 
 " Mother, do you want to see me ruined for 
 life, just to gratify your resentment?" said the 
 young fellow pleadingly. "I promise you I'll 
 be just as good a son, ay, and better, with Ida 
 for my wife. You know we were children to- 
 gether, and I love her." 
 
 "You shall never marry that girl!" said the 
 woman, setting her lips together. 
 
 " Mother ! hear me ; " and the man, white 
 as a ghost, stretched forth pleading hands. 
 " Mother, let me reason with you. You loved 
 my father as I love Ida : would you have given 
 him up at any one's bidding? I cannot give 
 Ida up : I need not give you up because she 
 becomes my wife. You will gain a daughter, 
 not lose a son. O mother ! be kind, be good ! 
 I have always been dutiful to you in reason : 
 don't wreck my life! say that I may marry 
 Ida only say yes, mother ! " 
 
 " I would rather follow you to your grave," 
 said the relentless woman. 
 
 " Then, you shall," he said, his face taking on 
 a stony calm as he put his hand in his breast- 
 pocket.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 69 
 
 "There will be murder done," said Hester, in 
 a low voice. I put my wife and sister behind 
 the portiere. When I came back, the man stood 
 in a defiant attitude, a small, gleaming revolver 
 in his right hand. The girl, his bride to be, 
 with moans indescribable, embraced his knees : 
 his mother stood stern, still, but trembling like 
 a leaf. 
 
 " Now, mother, if you don't let this marriage 
 service go on, I'll shoot myself through the 
 head, and you shall follow me to the grave," he 
 said, in a desperate, defiant voice. " Parson, 
 please to conclude. At the first word, remem- 
 ber, mother, I'll blow my brains out." 
 
 I was irresolute. What was my duty ? 
 
 "If I am to proceed," I said quietly, "you 
 must put that weapon up. This sacred service 
 must not be made a burlesque : nor do I think 
 a man with murder in his heart is fit to take the 
 solemn pledges of wedlock." 
 
 " O Sam, dear ! he is right. Put that terrible 
 pistol away put it away, dear. Perhaps it 
 will be best." 
 
 '" Perhaps what will be best ? " he asked, soft- 
 ened by the girl's tears and sobs. 
 
 "To leave it all, just now : it would be awful 
 to be married in this way. If your mother can't 
 like me, we'll wait a while. I haven't any mother, 
 and I should be so happy to have one ! but 
 I couldn't be happy with her curse upon me."
 
 7O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 The childish face was so grieved, so pitiful ! 
 I felt myself drawn towards her, and could not 
 blame Sam for the stand he had taken. I could 
 see that his mother was a little touched by the 
 girl's tears. 
 
 " Madam," I said, turning to the older woman, 
 " what have you against this young lady ? " 
 
 " She is a foolish, ignorant girl. She couldn't 
 make a loaf of bread to save her life. She's 
 not the one I would have chosen for him, with 
 a snug little home of her own, and a capable, 
 stirring woman in the bargain." 
 
 " And twice my age, sir," said the young 
 man, disdain in his voice, and fire in his eye. 
 "A woman I never liked, and couldn't love if 
 she was the only woman in the world. No, sir : 
 I want Ida, and Ida wants me ; and if she's ig- 
 norant, having been in a shop all her life, she's 
 teachable, and sweet and affectionate: and 
 the amount of the matter is, sir, I love her, and 
 she loves me." 
 
 " Are you of age ? " I asked, not caring to let 
 him know I thought his argument convincing. 
 
 " I am, sir." 
 
 "He's not, sir within a month," said his 
 mother sharply. 
 
 "Mother, why will you thwart me ?" he turned 
 to her pleadingly. "You know I'd obey you 
 in any thing reasonable. You'll drive me to
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. Jl 
 
 death's door you've almost done it now. 
 And Ida would make you a good daughter : she 
 never knew a mother's love, and she can't live 
 knowing that you hate her. Won't you try 
 her ? mother, dear, won't you ? " 
 
 " I'll have nothing more to say," was her re- 
 ply ; " and I'll have nothing more to do with 
 you or her. You can get along without me. 
 What's a mother when a wife comes ? " and with 
 a cry that was partly grief, partly hate, she 
 turned, and left the room. 
 
 " Oh, well ! " the young man said, after a 
 pause : " mother'll get over it. I'm all she's 
 got, and it has made her selfish. I'm afraid she 
 wouldn't want me to marry any one. But, you 
 see, I've furnished two or three rooms nicely, 
 and I thought perhaps mother would come and 
 live with us. Not that she need to, for she's 
 got a good home of her own ; but it was Ida 
 who wanted her, poor child ! She didn't think, 
 when she bought the orange-blossoms, she was 
 going to have such a time as this. Come, Ida : 
 parson'll finish, I reckon." 
 
 My sympathies were with the sad little 
 woman, and so, I knew, were Hester's. 
 
 " Yes : as your mother has no valid reason 
 to forbid the banns, I think I am authorized in 
 completing the ceremony," I said ; and with 
 tears and blushes Ida stood up once more, and
 
 72 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 I had almost pronounced them man and wife 
 when Sam's mother rushed in again. 
 
 " O Sam ! I can't give you up ! I won't give 
 you up ! If you marry that girl, you'll sign my 
 death-warrant. What has she done for you ? 
 worked, starved, fought, all but died, to bring 
 you up to respectable manhood ? Has she done 
 all that? And now you desert me for that 
 child!" 
 
 "Mother," said Sam deprecatingly, "you're 
 too late. Go on, sir." 
 
 I finished the ceremony. Then Sam did 
 something that did honor to his head and heart. 
 He left his wife. He went to his mother, put 
 his arms about her; and as she stood there, 
 pallid and suffering, he kissed her two or three 
 times. The action was very fine. She melted 
 down, too, and laid her head on his shoulder, 
 sobbing softly. 
 
 " Now, mother, you'll love Ida, won't you ? " 
 asked Sam. 
 
 " Don't ask me," sobbed the woman. " She's 
 got you now, and I don't feel like loving any- 
 body." 
 
 At that moment the portitre was rushed back ; 
 and there stood Hester, like a beneficent fairy, 
 at the side of a table loaded with cake, fruit, 
 and flowers. 
 
 " If she won't love you, I will," she said, ca-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 73 
 
 ressingly, to the little, trembling bride, as she 
 led her into the back parlor. " Come, madam, 
 we are all going to be good friends hereafter," 
 she added as she turned to the irate mother. 
 " We'll have a little wedding-feast, to commem- 
 orate the occasion ; and I shall take it very hard 
 if you don't come too." 
 
 Strangely enough, in a few moments we were 
 chatting and laughing about the improvised 
 board ; and I was blessing Hester in my heart, 
 for I soon saw she had completely won over 
 Sam's mother. An hour later we all sat to- 
 gether discussing the exciting incident. Hes- 
 ter was folding and unfolding a five-dollar bill. 
 
 " I'm glad it was a five," she said : " there 
 is something uncomfortably mean in the look 
 of a two-dollar marriage-fee." 
 
 We had hardly seated ourselves, and Dolly 
 had the manuscript of a story in her hand, ready 
 to read it aloud, when the bell rang again. 
 
 " It's half-past nine," said Hester, looking up 
 at the clock. " Well, this time somebody must 
 be dying ! Dolly, let's go to bed."
 
 74 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " There are mysteries that we cannot fathom, even in our daily sur- 
 roundings." 
 
 DOLLY gathered up her papers as we heard 
 the shuffling footsteps of Jenkins. 
 
 " The poor fellow was getting a little nap by 
 the kitchen-fire, I dare say," said Hester. " He 
 walks as if he were asleep." 
 
 The door burst open, and there stood Mar- 
 guerite, looking as if she rejoiced in our aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 "Where, in the name of the fairies, did you 
 come from ?" ejaculated Hester. 
 
 " Home," said the girl, untying the scarlet 
 ribbons at her chin. 
 
 " Not by yourself ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! John came with me ; and he 
 smoked his pipe all the way," she added, with a 
 look of disgust. " I smell of it, even in my bon- 
 net-strings." 
 
 " I don't know what mother was thinking of," 
 said Hester.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 75 
 
 " She wasn't thinking of it anyway, I expect," 
 said the child nonchalantly, coming towards 
 the table, and swinging her hat as she walked. 
 "She went up to cousin Miriam's early in the 
 evening, and then she sent word she shouldn't 
 be back to-night. Miriam's mother is worse, I 
 guess." 
 
 " And what made you think of coming here, 
 puss ? " asked Hester. " Were you afraid ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ! " then she went up closer to 
 Hester. "Mother told me I must." 
 
 "What a singular hallucination!" I said 
 angrily. " Shall we never break the child of 
 it?" 
 
 " Why didn't you come earlier?" queried Hes- 
 ter. 
 
 " I was in at Allie Campbell's " (their next- 
 door neighbor) " all the evening, playing games. 
 It was nine when I went home, and I was get- 
 ting ready to go to bed when mother told me." 
 
 " And father was willing to let you come ? " 
 asked Hester. 
 
 "Oh! he don't care," said Marguerite. "He 
 was busy in the library with the students' ex- 
 ercises, and he would have said yes to every 
 thing." 
 
 "Oh, well! it's all right enough. She can 
 sleep with you, Dolly ; " and Hester was taking 
 up the night-lamp when Marguerite spoke.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Say, cousin Hester, have you got a trunk- 
 
 room 
 
 "Why yes," said Hester, looking up. "I 
 suppose that's what they call it, at the top of 
 the house." 
 
 " And is there a broken statue in it ? the 
 Polly something I've forgotten the name." 
 
 "What in the world do you ask me for, child?" 
 asked Hester. "Why, yes, didn't you have 
 that Apollo carried up there till we could send 
 it to be mended ? " she asked, turning to me. 
 
 The question recalled to me the fact that I 
 had sent the statue up by Jenkins, but did not 
 know where he put it. 
 
 " It is certainly up-stairs somewhere," I made 
 reply. 
 
 " Oh ! that's where it is," said the child confi- 
 dently. " Mother knows ! " 
 
 I was conscious of a decidedly creepy sensa- 
 tion along my spine. Marguerite was manip- 
 ulating the papier-macht cutter that I had been 
 using. 
 
 " Well, and suppose it is : what of it ? " asked 
 Hester, still lingering. 
 
 " I'll tell you what she said," was Marguerite's 
 reply : "'If you will go up into cousin Hester's 
 trunk-room, with cousin Hester and cousin Hal, 
 they shall hear me talk to you.' " 
 
 " Gracious heavens ! " cried Hester, turning
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 77 
 
 to me : " did ever you hear such a monstrous 
 proposal ? " 
 
 "And then," continued the child, turning 
 over the pages of a magazine, "she said the 
 trunk-room was up-stairs under the roof, with 
 the broken statue of Apol Apol " 
 
 "Apollo Belvedere," said Dolly. 
 
 " Hal, suppose we go up there, just to see," 
 said Hester. " I don't know where the statue 
 is, neither do you : come, dear, just to please me. 
 It would be curious enough if she should know 
 what neither of us do." 
 
 " Nonsense ! there's no she about it, and 
 you know it," I muttered ; but nevertheless I 
 was a trifle curious ; and Hester and I went up- 
 stairs, unconscious that Marguerite followed us 
 stealthily. 
 
 Arrived at the trunk-room, sure enough there 
 stood the statue, the broken arm lying on the 
 floor. 
 
 " I told you she said so ! " said Marguerite, 
 startling me so suddenly that I seemed to lose 
 my strength, and was for leaving the room ; but 
 Hester's hand was on my arm. 
 
 " Now we are here, dear," she said softly, " I 
 should like to try to see, that is if we 
 could hear any thing, you know." 
 
 " I'll not have to do with the works of dark- 
 ness," I said, backing to the door.
 
 78 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 "But, Hal, just to please me, dear," said Hes- 
 ter. " I have a great curiosity I always have 
 had to see something of that kind; and, if I 
 could judge for myself, it would be so much 
 pleasanter ! It certainly can do us no harm." 
 
 " But what would be said, Hester ? I, a min- 
 ister of the gospel ! I can't sink my profes- 
 sion" 
 
 "Nobody need ever know it," said Hester; 
 "and we sha'n't hear any thing. I've no faith, 
 you know only I should like to try." 
 
 " Well, what have we to do ? Of course there's 
 nothing in it ; but just to please you, as Mar- 
 guerite is here." 
 
 " Yes, yes : what are we to do ? " 
 
 "What are we to do, Marguerite?" I asked. 
 
 " Nothing," came in a low voice : " she is here 
 now. I see her." 
 
 "Hester, go down : this is unhallowed," I said. 
 And then I think I felt the hair rise on my 
 temples ; for a low voice, almost a whisper, dis- 
 tinctly said, 
 
 "And he that was dead came forth." 
 
 " Marguerite," said Hester. 
 
 " Yes," was the quiet reply. 
 
 " Was it you who spoke just now ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed ! " was the earnest, calm re- 
 ply : "it was mother." 
 
 " Angels and ministers of grace defend Us ! "
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 79 
 
 I exclaimed. " Let us get out of this. I don't 
 know whether the ground is holy or unholy, but 
 let us get out." 
 
 Hester opened the door. 
 
 " I shouldn't like to hear it again," she said, 
 trembling. 
 
 "It was Marguerite," I said. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! don't let the child hear you : it 
 would grieve her terribly." 
 
 "Of course she was unconscious, but it was 
 she." 
 
 We went down-stairs, leaving Marguerite at 
 Dolly's door ; and the child went in. 
 
 Every thing in the pleasant parlor looked un- 
 real. Had I, or had I not, heard a voice from 
 the dead ? 
 
 Hester and I talked it over : it was so out of 
 the order of things that Marguerite should have 
 come over at that hour, and, altogether, the 
 child was unique. I couldn't make it out, though 
 I puzzled my brains till midnight. Evidently I 
 had been deceived : perhaps my own ears had 
 deceived me. But Hester had heard it as 
 plainly as I had, and she was very pale while we 
 talked it over. 
 
 " It's all very well," she said, " now we have 
 heard it, but I don't want to hear it again. 
 What a strange child Marguerite is ! She's not 
 in any way different from other children in her
 
 8O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 manners, just as childish only in that strange 
 gift. Oh ! but, Hal, some way it convinces me 
 that there is truly a life beyond the grave." 
 
 "You don't tell me that you ever had any 
 doubts ! " I said, rather startled. 
 
 " I don't know I'm afraid that sometimes 
 O Hal ! I am so afraid of dying., and leaving 
 you ! oh, so afraid ! It don't seem as if any 
 beyond could compensate me : it don't seem as 
 if there could be any beyond ! " 
 
 She hid her face on my shoulder. 
 
 " Not that I don't try to be a good Christian," 
 she said a moment after, with tearful eyes and 
 quivering lips ; " but naturally I doubt every 
 thing. Papa used to say that I saw things too 
 quickly that I didn't reason enough ; and I 
 suppose I don't. Sometimes when you preach 
 such glowing sermons of the heavenly beyond, I 
 am lifted up, even to the pearly gates : but when 
 your voice- is still, when I see all the common- 
 place people steeped in their commonplace 
 duties, and never seeming to look beyond them- 
 selves, then that cold shiver of doubt comes over 
 me; and I'm glad of what I heard to-night, 
 though I can't realize, and can't believe it. 
 Now, father-priest, I have made my confession, 
 and you must deal with me. What sort of a 
 penance must I perform ? " 
 
 " Love me dearly, and leave your future with
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 8 1 
 
 God. You need not fear, dear wife, while your 
 life is so full of kindly offices for others and for 
 Him." 
 
 " I hope He will spare us for a long life of use- 
 fulness, and then take us together," she said, to 
 which I echoed a hearty Amen. 
 
 In the morning Marguerite took breakfast 
 with us, chatting like a magpie, utterly forget- 
 ful, apparently, of the singular occurrence of the 
 past night. To me it all seemed like a dream. 
 I did not credit my own senses, and tried to 
 dismiss the matter from my mind. All this 
 was as nothing, however, compared with what 
 came afterwards, in the shape of a note from 
 Marguerite. 
 
 " DEAR COUSIN HESTER, You know I went from your 
 house to school, thinking there was no need to go home. 
 Well, I got all my lessons to perfection, and went home 
 early. Mrs. Moss met me at the door, holding up both 
 hands. 
 
 " ' To think what you've been saved from, child ! ' she 
 said. . ' It's a meracle.' Then she took me up-stairs into 
 my own little room, and there was my bed crushed and 
 broken by the ceiling which had fallen on it in great 
 masses. I should have been killed, so that's why mamma 
 sent me to you. Isn't God good ? " 
 
 Mrs. Moss was the housekeeper. 
 Hester read the little missive, and the tears 
 welled up to her eyes.
 
 82 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 "It does seem as if she had a special pro- 
 tector," she said. 
 
 " We all have," said Dolly ; " but this cer- 
 tainly was providential in a wonderful degree." 
 
 That afternoon Hester's mother called ; and 
 I was behind the portiere, filling out a marriage 
 certificate. Hester pulled up the big chair, and 
 saw her mother settled comfortably, and then 
 they talked of ordinary matters till Hester spoke 
 of Marguerite. 
 
 "So queer of the child to take a notion to 
 come here that hour of the night, wasn't it ? 
 Well, it saved her life ; and I've been talking 
 to father about that ceiling for months. Now 
 we've got to have it in new ; and I'm determined 
 to turn the room into a library, and have a hand- 
 some ceiling, now we're about it. It will all 
 have to be done up, and there's a room just as 
 good for Maggy." 
 
 " How is aunt Hope ? " asked Hester. 
 
 "Better to-day had one of her sinking- 
 spells yesterday, and I really think she'll go if 
 she has another. She don't seem to realize 
 how ill she is, ill sounds so much better than 
 sick, you know: we learned that in England, 
 and very glad am I that we did." 
 
 " Don't Miriam leave the house, ever ? " asked 
 Hester. " I don't know when she has been 
 here."
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 83 
 
 I could see Mrs. Vaughan at this question 
 open and shut her reticule, shake her head, 
 purse up her lips, and look very prim and grim. 
 She had heard of that little episode, and had 
 once essayed to lecture me ; but I had cut her 
 short with rather unclerical acerbity, and she 
 had not forgotten it. 
 
 "Miriam, poor child! has had her troubles 
 too. No, she seldom goes out. She is a most 
 devoted child. I'm afraid she is working beyond 
 her strength." 
 
 "Of course she is devoted," says Hester: "she 
 ought to be. It's her own mother she's caring 
 for. Only it would be better for both if Miriam 
 would take more exercise. I think she might 
 come and see us once in a while." 
 
 "She might come to see you" says Mrs. 
 Vaughan, with impressive emphasis. I see the 
 solemn shake of the head, the tightly shut lips. 
 
 " And, pray, why not us f " asks Hester, her 
 voice a trifle sharper. 
 
 " Oh ! I dare say she has her reasons," is the 
 evasive reply. 
 
 "I dare say she has," says Hester; "but I 
 do think she might be more cousinly. I always 
 liked Miriam, but she doesn't seem to like me. 
 Well, she must judge for herself." 
 
 "We don't know everybody's private experi- 
 ence," says Mrs. Vaughan significantly.
 
 84 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " It's well we don't," Hester responds. 
 
 "Yes, perhaps only don't judge Miriam 
 harshly, poor child ! She makes no confidantes, 
 but I can tell you she has been sadly deceived." 
 
 "For patience' sake ! " cries Hester: " I never 
 dreamed that of Miriam. Who was it ? I didn't 
 know she ever had a lover except that bald- 
 headed Pinkerton. You don't tell me that he 
 blighted her young affections ! Miriam never 
 seemed to me to care to be settled in life. 
 Who was the blighter ? Please tell me. Was 
 it while I was away ? " 
 
 At this stage of the conversation I see fit to 
 raise the curtain, and make my appearance on 
 the carpet. Of course Miriam's name is dropped 
 for this day only.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 85 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " No sense, no wit, no humor, only a figure-head, a woman lacking 
 in all things but vanity." 
 
 MIRIAM ! Why should the mere mention of 
 her annoy me ? I had put her out of my 
 life so completely, that, unless her name was 
 brought up in some such way as Mrs. Vaughan 
 had mentioned it, it never occurred to me. The 
 Hopes had long ago given up their pew. Miriam 
 never came to church. When she called, which, 
 as Hester had said, was but seldom, she never 
 remained till I came in the house ; and of late 
 Hester seldom spoke of her. 
 
 As soon as my wife's mother left us, I went 
 into the study. It was quite dark. The gas 
 burned low. I turned it up, and was about to 
 sit down, when the notion took me to go into 
 the chancel. I knew the choir had stopped 
 practice, and had probably gone. It therefore 
 surprised me somewhat to hear voices as I stood 
 there quite hidden by the darkness. There was 
 only one light burning in the choir ; and by it I
 
 86 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 saw the face of my tenor, Tom Tracy. He had 
 an exceptionally fine, pure face. I had often 
 wondered why a man who had so little sym- 
 pathy for the offices of religion could so carry 
 the countenance of a saint. But Tom was not 
 alone. Now and again I heard a low, musical 
 laugh, and then a woman's voice, subdued but 
 ringing. 
 
 " O Tom ! as if I could forget" 
 
 Turning uneasily, I met Jenkins's inquisitive 
 orbs fastened on my face. There was a keen 
 intelligence in his glance. 
 
 " Do they often stop in this way, Jenkins ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 " As a gineral thing," said Jenkins, still ey- 
 ing me. His ears seemed fairly to vibrate with 
 intelligence. 
 
 The words that my wife had spoken forced 
 themselves upon my memory, 
 
 " I don't like her face. I don't think her a 
 woman who would try to make her husband 
 happy." 
 
 Then the countenance of Mrs. Tracy came 
 before me, the look of habitual grief, the ef- 
 fort of her smile, the something unexplainable 
 by which the least practised eye can read the 
 secret of a heart wounded to the core. A quick 
 tremor ran through my veins as though the 
 matter were personal to myself ; and I hurried
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 8/ 
 
 back into the study, angry with Tom Tracy, 
 and disgusted with the organist for daring to 
 use his name so familiarly. 
 
 Another mood took me. I went in the chan- 
 cel, and walked down the aisle, humming audi- 
 bly. The clock said half-past eight : my eyes 
 were steadfastly fixed on the dial. The talk 
 ceased ; and Tom came down the choir-steps 
 with a smile as serene as that of an angel, fol- 
 lowed by Mrs. Stanley, upon whose fair, false 
 face the light was strongly reflected as she 
 passed me. A large broad-brimmed hat shaded 
 her great, passionate eyes ; and her hair, partly 
 curled, lay in masses on her forehead. That 
 she was beautiful, as men count beauty, could 
 not be denied. 
 
 " We got through earlier than usual," said 
 Tom, with the frankness of a child. " I think 
 we'll try Steiner's Te Deum next Sunday for 
 the first time." 
 
 "Very well," I answered in a constrained 
 voice. " How is your wife, Mr. Tracy ?" 
 
 " Well, thanks, she is about as usual, com- 
 plaining a little ; never quite on the rugged 
 order ; constitutional sort of thing," he an- 
 swered cherubically. 
 
 He passed out of the church-door after a com- 
 monplace sentence or two, and walked down 
 the yard with Mrs. Stanley, she with her arm
 
 88 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 in his. What right had I to watch them, with 
 an almost irresistible desire to tear them asun- 
 der ? I was no knight-errant to fight for other 
 men's wives; so I bottled up my wrath, and 
 entered my study again. 
 
 Behold, it was tenanted ! A woman, her 
 tangled hair escaping from a nondescript bon- 
 net, her hands half gloved, the wrinkled backs 
 coming just over her coarse red knuckles, sat 
 in my study-chair, apparently reading the open 
 letter that lay on my desk. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! I do beg your parding " and 
 here she pulled out a hair-pin, and thrust it, 
 with a bunch of frowsy hair, on the other side 
 of her forehead. " I had so little time along of 
 the baby's bein' sick ( he's my sevingth, and his 
 name is George Chartres Magnolia Dickory), 
 that, says I to Mr. Dickory (a tailor, sir, and 
 fitting with that accuracy that you'd declare the 
 clothes was pasted on. In Hingland it was he 
 learned his trade : he and me be both Hinglish 
 born ), and says I to him at supper, ' I have 
 not treated the new minister with proper re- 
 spect. Halpin (which is his first name, and 
 named after the second cousin of his father, 
 which were a clergyman ofthe Church of Hing- 
 land) and you must wash the dishes, and tend 
 to the children, particularly giving George Char- 
 tres his drops every ten minutes.' You see, it
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 89 
 
 is so hard for me to git out of the house, doin' 
 my own work as I does, no housekeeper, no 
 nurse, no cook, as my mother had before me, 
 that I have to neglect many of my social 
 duties. Well, and how are you? and how do 
 you like us here ? " 
 
 Taken aback at this flow of words, at the re- 
 markable appearance of my unlooked-for visitor, 
 in whose face was a mingling of shrewdness, 
 good nature, and vulgarity, and in her manner 
 an audacity which was not the result of igno- 
 rance mainly, but of an intense self-esteem, I 
 could not have spoken but for the time she gave 
 me to collect my thoughts. 
 
 The name seemed familiar to me, but I had 
 forgotten in what connection I had heard it 
 spoken of ; and it only haunted me as the echo 
 haunts the voice, with no definite result. 
 
 " I thank you," I made reply, seating myself 
 on the lounge, leaving her master of my desk 
 and of me : " I am pleased with the people, and 
 very comfortable at present." 
 
 " Indeed, I am glad to hear that ; " and she 
 made a futile effort to draw her gloves over her 
 bony hands. " I spoze maybe you didn't know 
 dear old Mr. Stillwater, as was the last rector. 
 We fairly idolized him ; and I was that familiar 
 in the family, that I'd go in without knocking. 
 He baptized all my dear children, savin' and
 
 9O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 accepting George Chartres Magnolia, which I 
 hope to have the pleasure of seeing him crossed 
 under your hands, trusting your benediction 
 will make a man of him. And his coats always 
 did fit without no effort on his part. He just 
 put himself in the hands of Mr. Dickory with- 
 out reserve ; and if they was ordered at nine at 
 night, to be done at four in the morning, Dick- 
 ory was the man to be on time if he had to set 
 up two nights to do it. Its a hard-working par- 
 ish, too ; and it takes all one's time to go over 
 it, as I know who always carries my husband's 
 work home ; and plenty of custom he have, 
 always willing to take care of the children : and 
 turn and turn about is my motto for married 
 folks. To be sure, house-work doesn't come so 
 handy to the men, especially if they haven't 
 been brought up to it ; but they do very well if 
 they practise, as they all ought to. It's their 
 privileges, only they don't know it. But la! 
 you haven't been married long enough to know : 
 wait till you git a houseful of children your- 
 self." 
 
 By this time I was utterly disgusted. I had 
 never met in all my life, ministerial or other- 
 wise, a character so offensive ; and it made me 
 tremble for my own manhood. I felt an almost 
 irresistible desire to rise up, and order her to the 
 door, more than once, or to give her a piece of
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 9! 
 
 my mind. Come what would, she should never 
 have the opportunity to trouble Hester, or any 
 of my household. I do not think I have in any 
 case a large share of grace : the human is con- 
 stantly knocking at the door of the spiritual, 
 and demanding entrance, with all its faults and 
 foibles, its little weaknesses and tempers. I saw 
 in my mind's eye the copious possibilities of 
 future annoyance, both to my wife and myself, 
 in this very respectable but voluble and unpleas- 
 ant person, and mentally decided to encourage 
 neither her nor her husband. How many more 
 of these purely material natures, as opposed to 
 the ideal characters I had mentally assigned 
 to the different portions of the congregation, I 
 had under my spiritual care, I had yet to learn. 
 This evening's experience had unfolded two ex- 
 tremes in the persons of Mr. Tom Tracy and 
 Mrs. Dickory. One of my friends had warned 
 me against several whom he denominated cranks, 
 among them several noted for miserly qualities, 
 and others for unbridled temper, the latter usu- 
 ally stirring the parish to a ferment once or 
 twice a year. 
 
 "Well, I must go," said Mrs. Dickory, gra- 
 ciously vacating the rector's chair, and pulling 
 her gloves half way over her knuckles in a vain 
 effort to make them smooth. " I should like to 
 have seen your wife ; though I really did expect,
 
 92 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 from what I heard, that her cousin would step 
 into her shoes, as the sayin' is. I shall be sure 
 to come to church as often as I can, though I 
 must always bring the children." 
 
 " All of them ? " I was surprised into saying. 
 
 " Oh, no ! Dickory will take care of the 
 babies : " and, with the oddest series of bows 
 and nods it was ever my experience to behold, 
 she took her leave ; and I sat listening to her 
 departing footsteps. 
 
 "Well!" 
 
 It was an ejaculation that had meaning. I 
 looked up. There stood Hester, her beautiful 
 face cameo-like, brilliant against the back- 
 ground of the darkness. 
 
 " Have they all gone ? " she asked. 
 
 "The choir ? oh, yes ! long ago." 
 
 "I am so disappointed! I even sent Dolly 
 into the study for you, but you were nowhere 
 to be seen. We have had visitors such vis- 
 itors ! " 
 
 " And I have had a visitor ! such a visitor ! " 
 
 " Who was it, pray ? " 
 
 "Mrs. Dickory." 
 
 " What ! is her husband a tailor ? " 
 
 " So she says." 
 
 "O Hal! she will kill you!" and Hester 
 laughed. " You have passed your examination 
 with credit, I hope. Have either of the young
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 93 
 
 Dickories chicken-pox or measles ? I assure you, 
 she would come to you sooner than to the doc- 
 tor. O Hal ! I pity, but I cannot help you ; for, 
 if she ever comes to me, I shall snub her. But 
 there's this consolation, if the act on my part 
 is uncharitable or unchristian, she won't know 
 it. You haven't asked yet who our visitors 
 were." 
 
 j My darling had by this time ensconced herself 
 in the rector's chair ; and this picture so effect- 
 ually effaced the other, that I was myself again, 
 and of course asked the expected question. 
 
 "Well, do you know Mrs. Whitby of the 
 Elms ? Yes, of course you do. It was she who 
 came, bringing with her a live count ! a frag- 
 ment of the old French nobility, though he 
 walks through this weary world as plain Mr. 
 Ravaillac. But, my dear, he is the most dis- 
 tinguished-looking man I have met out of his 
 native element, the air of France. I do assure 
 you he is charmingly handsome, and accentuates 
 his language delightfully." 
 
 " You are certainly enthusiastic over a stran- 
 ger," I said, a little nettled. 
 
 "No more than you will be when you see 
 him," said Hester. "Just ask Dolly! I intro- 
 duced her as Mary, and it was delicious to hear 
 him pronounce it as Marie. Haven't you written 
 your sermon yet? Oh, pray let me finish it!"
 
 94 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " I beg you to do so," I said. 
 
 I had left the last sentence thus : 
 
 " Finally, beloved " 
 
 "Shall I add, 'disciples of the proper?'" she 
 asked, and then wrote on, 
 
 " Finally, beloved, go home in peace, eat 
 your dinners in amity, scold your wives in len- 
 iency, punish your children in equity, sand your 
 sugar in scarcity, water your milk in paucity, 
 speak of all men (and women too) in charity, 
 live as you should in purity, and I promise you 
 as a surety you will go to the regions of the 
 honest and the try-to-do-right in the sublime 
 radiance of the great hereafter." 
 
 I did not see what she had written till the 
 following day, when I had forgotten the circum= 
 stance. She had spoiled a sheet of my sermon' 
 paper ; but I followed out her suggestions, after 1 
 a hearty laugh all to myself, which brought 
 Jenkins to the door, with his long ears as red 
 as beets, and his blue eyes protruding like 
 saucers. 
 
 "Never mind, Jenkins," I said: "it was 
 something I was thinking of."
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 95 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " One cannot tell what virtues he possesses, but he speaks three 
 languages." 
 
 ON the following Sunday, Mrs. Whitby, who 
 occupied the third pew from the chancel, 
 came to church, accompanied by her eldest 
 daughter Mabel and the French count. Mrs. 
 Whitby was rich, handsome, stylish, capable, 
 and Mrs. Whitby of the Elms ! She lived in 
 a palace of a house, whose adornments my poor 
 pen could but faintly portray. Mr. Whitby was 
 a merchant, and one of the few rich men of my 
 parish, bald-headed, red-faced, and pompous. 
 He cared little for splendor, and all for business. 
 His stores took up whole blocks ; his ships 
 navigated every ocean ; his schemes were stu- 
 pendous, and never failed. He had clerks by 
 the score : and one of the best of these was 
 Monsieur Ravaillac, who, on account of his 
 ability to translate in three different languages, 
 received a much larger salary than his fellows ; 
 and on account of his misfortune in having been
 
 96 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 reduced from the ranks of the nobility to the 
 ranks of the canaille, poor fellow ! had the 
 entree of the Elms, and was a privileged charac- 
 ter at all their entertainments. 
 
 If you ever met a man with a Greek face, 
 English shoulders, and a French mustache, you 
 have seen Ravaillac's double, perhaps. I did 
 not wonder at my wife's enthusiastic descrip- 
 tion of the fellow. He was handsome enough 
 to warm the heart of a statue. Only a few 
 weeks passed before he became a constant 
 caller at our house. His varied accomplish- 
 ments musical, literary, and aesthetic made 
 him a more than agreeable companion. He 
 spoke English intrepidly, with now and then a 
 lapse that made his sentences inimitable, and so 
 impressed one, that to forget them was impos- 
 sible. The Greek beauty of his face was of the 
 most commanding type. I soon saw, what be- 
 came apparent to every one, that Dolly was the 
 magnet that attracted him. Add to a magnetic 
 countenance a mind of exceptional strength, 
 the utmost refinement in manners, and a spirit 
 apparently thoroughly imbued with high princi- 
 ples and religious sentiments, and what young 
 girl would not feel flattered by the attentions of 
 such a man ? 
 
 My wife was delighted. 
 
 " As sure as you live, he'll marr^y Dolly," she
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 97 
 
 said one evening when we were talking it over, 
 "and take her to Paris. It is just delightful to 
 hear him talk of his home in Paris ; his little 
 grandmother, whose devotion to the Bonapartes 
 is still undiminished ; and his lovely sister Elise, 
 who is married to a colonel in the French army. 
 He is a scion of the old nobility, too ; and I de- 
 clare, I have a reverence for old families, my- 
 self; and I believe everybody has. He will 
 bring the picture of his sister, whom he speaks 
 of as mon ange, to-night. It is very sweet to 
 hear the tender expressions that fall from his 
 lips when he refers to her. Mrs. Whitby says 
 he is very popular among her acquaintances ; 
 and don't you think him fond of Dolly ? " 
 
 " I have noticed it," I said, as she brought 
 round the silken cord of the dressing-gown she 
 had just helped me into. 
 
 " Yes, of course you have. It is dear little 
 Dolly's greatest ambition, you know, to travel. 
 How much it would add to her varied accom- 
 plishments ! I wish she could have gone in my 
 place : I never really cared so much about it. 
 But Mr. Ravaillac is such a gentleman ! there's 
 only only" she hesitated; then, as her eyes 
 caught mine, she laughed. 
 
 " Only a tiny bit of a doubt, hardly born yet, 
 that he may not be quite what he assumes ; but 
 it only comes to me now and then, and is not
 
 98 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 big enough to stand alone. It makes me rather 
 watchful, that's all, for Dolly's sake, you know. 
 Oh ! by the way, I am going to call on that 
 pretty Mrs. Tracy to-day, your tenor's wife ; 
 and I shall also take in the Hopes on my way 
 home. I'm afraid aunt Hope is very ill. Papa 
 was there yesterday." 
 
 That night Hester, as was her usual habit, 
 recounted the incidents of the day. 
 
 " And did Mrs. Tracy confirm your previous 
 impressions ? " I asked. 
 
 " More than that," she said. " She gave me 
 the first genuine heart-ache I ever had in my 
 life." 
 
 " She was very unhappy, then ? " 
 
 "On the contrary, brilliant, and seemingly 
 overflowing with life. Her house and its ap- 
 pointments, but for her exquisite taste, would 
 be like a bazaar of Oriental splendor. But, oh, 
 dear! she is not happy." 
 
 "And yet you intimate that she was gay." 
 
 "Apparently. But once I touched a secret 
 spring, that shadowed the beauty both of house 
 and hostess. On a bracket stood an exquisite 
 medallion, a face painted in oils. I exclaimed 
 admiringly, but it was the painter's art that 
 surprised me. I had quite forgotten the face, 
 and yet it seemed to me that I had seen it 
 before.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 99 
 
 " ' Do you like it ? ' she asked ; and a strange 
 intensity changed her voice. 
 
 " ' No I don't like it exactly,' I made 
 reply : 'there is something false in the face.' 
 
 " Then it flashed over me who it was ; for I 
 saw her cheek pale, and her lip quiver. 
 
 " ' She is a friend for whom my husband pro- 
 cured a situation,' she said. 
 
 " ' And she sent that as a token of her grati- 
 tude ? ' I asked, astounded. 
 
 " ' Oh, no ! my husband bought that of the 
 artist who painted it. I think it was her 
 brother, and he was in great need.' ' 
 
 " I see no real harm in that," I said. 
 
 " Don't you ? well, I do ; " and my Hester's 
 gentle eyes flashed. " Why didn't he order 
 some other picture ? To set that up before the 
 eyes of his wife ! I'd have thrown it into the 
 fire ! Better to die than be so insulted ! There 
 are things that men have done, honorable men 
 so called, that they have never told their wives. 
 Perhaps, the temptation having passed, and the 
 deeds been repented of, that is best ; but it is 
 well you had nothing to conceal." 
 
 She took my hand caressingly. 
 
 " And that is why I felt my happiness would 
 be safe in your keeping, for I have a tendency 
 to be desperately jealous but only for cause, 
 sir, " she added, smiling. " I knew a clergy-
 
 IOO TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 man, as a mere man, was no better than others ; 
 but, as a priest, his calling imposed upon him 
 the strictest watch over his own inclinations, 
 and the most guarded care over his own na- 
 ture, that he might be a guide to others." 
 f " And was this all of your interview with Mrs. 
 Tracy ? " I asked, feeling a certain little stab as 
 she thus unconsciously arraigned me before the 
 tribunal of my own conscience. 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ! I found out that she was the 
 most wretched woman, with her affectation of 
 light-heartedness, that I ever met. Her daugh- 
 ter came in from a neighbor's while I was there, 
 a delicate, lovely creature, with an aureole 
 of true golden hair, and the blue of her eyes was 
 as blue as heaven. By the way, she watched 
 her mother, hung on her words, touched her 
 with such soft touches, every movement a 
 caress. I could see that she, too, suffered. Oh, 
 some day I shall hear such a story ! I am sure 
 of it, and it will make me miserable." 
 
 " No : you shall not take upon yourself the 
 sorrows of my parishioners," I said. "That is 
 my duty and my cross." 
 
 "And I am not to help my husband in the 
 sterner calling of his pastorate ? Did you 
 choose me only to set me over your household 
 gods, to pet you when you are tired, and to 
 watch you doing good afar off ? No, no : I am
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. IOI 
 
 better than that, woman though I am. I love 
 home dearly, but I want to feel that I am a 
 helper as well as a comforter outside of home." 
 
 " Did you go to your cousin's ? " I asked, after 
 giving her a kiss ; for I could not gainsay her 
 sweet fervor, though I determined she should 
 know as little as possible of my harsh conflict 
 with the outer world. 
 
 "Yes, and found aunt Hope very low: in- 
 deed, I knew it before. I don't believe she will 
 live long, for Marguerite dreamed she died ; 
 and what that child dreams always comes true." 
 
 " You put too much faith in that little chit," 
 was my rejoinder. Marguerite was not a favor- 
 ite with me, on a more intimate acquaintance. 
 There was something uncanny about the child ; 
 and I hated the mysterious, save and excepting 
 the mysteries of our holy religion. Marguerite 
 went to school now, a select school, two or 
 three miles out of the city ; and we rarely saw 
 her except under the professor's roof. 
 
 " One can't ignore one's experience," said 
 Hester. " I never told you, but one day Mar- 
 guerite came over here, and said she dreamed 
 Dick fell off his perch, dead ; and the child had 
 hardly left the house before the dear little fel- 
 low was dead. If one can't understand, one 
 must believe. You can't ignore simple facts." 
 
 "Merely a coincidence," was my answer.
 
 IO2 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " What will your cousin do if her mother should 
 die?" 
 
 " I think she will go home to mother's. 
 Mother has talked it over a good deal, and is 
 not satisfied with the school where Marguerite 
 goes. She wants to send her to the sisters', 
 but papa absolutely forbids that. Miriam is 
 highly educated, you know, and could teach 
 Marguerite at home. That would suit on all 
 sides." 
 
 "Yes, I should think so," I said dubiously. 
 It was not pleasant to think of Miriam as so 
 near a neighbor. Indeed, if I could have ig- 
 nored her utterly, I should have been more than 
 glad to do so. 
 
 " It's one of the inexplicable things," said 
 Hester, " that my aunt has taken such a dislike 
 to you. It must be the disease affects her 
 -mind. Why, she used to call you 'that divine 
 young man,' and was always sounding your 
 praises before we left for Europe. It is cer- 
 tainly unaccountable." 
 
 " Sick people often take such freaks," I said, 
 and changed the subject.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. IO3 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Sleek and fair-faced, 
 Assuming respectability, full of old anecdotes." 
 
 " A GENTLEMAN to see you," said Jen- 
 2\ kins one morning. 
 
 Jenkins stood like a great blur in the door- 
 way ; for it was blue Monday, and I was a little 
 out of sorts. His ears looked broader and 
 longer than ever. 
 
 " I did hope I could have an hour to myself," 
 I said impatiently, glancing up from my paper. 
 " Does he look like a man who needs me ? " 
 
 " I can answer your question," said Hester ; 
 "for. I happened to be in the study, hunting a 
 book, when he came in. I am sure he don't 
 warft to be buried: he might possibly have a 
 wedding in contemplation, but I shouldn't care 
 to be the bride. Candidly, though, he is excel- 
 lently well dressed, if that will help you." 
 
 " Tell him I'll be in," I said ; and Jenkins 
 disappeared. 
 
 " Seems to me," I growled, as I drew off my
 
 IO4 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 dressing-gown, " that fellow's ears grow longer 
 and larger every day." 
 
 " They couldn't very well grow smaller," said 
 Hester. "I have often wished, myself, they 
 could be cut down." 
 
 The notion tickled me, and I went smilingly 
 into the study to meet an utter stranger. 
 
 "Rev. Mr. Clements," he said glibly "de- 
 lighted to see you, I'm sure. Of course you 
 don't know who I am. I should have given 
 your servant my card. Pangrist, my name is, 
 the grandson of old General Pangrist, son of 
 Doctor Pangrist, both of them members of old 
 St J6hn's : you'll find their names on your 
 book. I came, sir, for the sake of old associa- 
 tions. When a child, sir, from that to a boy at 
 college, I had the privilege of attending the 
 dear old church. Circumstances took me away 
 to the West, where my father emigrated when 
 I was seventeen. I am now renewing old im- 
 pressions, sir ; and I say again, I am delighted 
 to meet you." 
 
 It seemed to me I had seen the name of Pan- 
 grist, as, indeed, I had, on the church-books, only 
 a week before. The man was so hearty in his 
 manner, so well, nay, elegantly dressed, that he 
 made an impression for good. I forgot that it 
 was blue Monday, and was glad to meet an 
 agreeable and intelligent companion. Every
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. IO5 
 
 thing about him suggested refinement and cul- 
 ture. The more I talked with him, the better 
 pleased I was. We discussed several questions 
 on debatable matters, and he seemed at once 
 fearless and honest in all his opinions, and 
 sound in church-views. He spoke of several 
 persons I knew, and seemed to have an inti- 
 mate acquaintance with the various rectors. 
 
 " I would like," said he, with a childlike smile, 
 "to look at the old church if you do not object. 
 I really feel as if it would renew my youth to 
 see the dear old pew where, with my sainted 
 mother, I sat sabbath after sabbath, not exactly 
 a willing listener, but happy wherever she was. 
 Ah ! she has long been in the church above. 
 Have I your permission, sir ? " 
 
 "Indeed," I responded with alacrity, "I shall 
 be most happy to accompany you ; " and in an- 
 other moment we stood in the chancel. 
 
 "Ah! the same dear old place! no improve- 
 ments," he said, as he stood there holding his 
 hat in one hand, and gently smoothing his long 
 black mustache with the other. 
 
 I ventured to say that the chancel had a new 
 window. 
 
 " Ah ! pardon me. I didn't observe that, but 
 I do now. Very fine in its coloring too ; rich, 
 very rich, and the design remarkably beauti- 
 ful."
 
 IO6 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Yes : it is a memorial window, given by the 
 widow of old Colonel Winslow." 
 
 "Ah, yes! I remember him the venerable 
 old man ! Did you ever meet with him ? " 
 
 " It was before my time," I made reply, " but 
 I know his widow : she is very old." 
 
 " Yes : I knew her also. He was a remark- 
 ably fine specimen of the old aristocracy. And 
 he was a gentleman, sir, an old-time gentle- 
 man, hair white as the driven snow, urbane, 
 courtly. We don't see many of those fine old 
 gentlemen in these days, when so many devices 
 are resorted to in vain attempts to restore what 
 never returns, one's lost youth." 
 
 We walked slowly up the aisle. 
 
 " How every thing comes back to me ! " said 
 my companion with a sigh. " It is strange how, 
 in such a place as this, the yearnings of the 
 soul master one. The truths which are com- 
 mon to belief seem so much more sacred ! Ah, 
 sir ! the teachings by a mother's knee are never 
 forgotten." 
 
 " Never ! " I responded fervently, feeling 
 more and more sympathy with my new friend. 
 
 " Yes, sir : we must not be exclusive and self- 
 ish in matters of faith, and that is why I rest 
 implicitly in the doctrines of the Church the 
 dear old mother ! Her mission is to regenerate 
 mankind : I feel it, sir. The time cannot be
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. IO/ 
 
 far off when the whole pagan world will come 
 under her influence, and we shall all be the 
 sheep of her fold. 
 
 " Here is where I sat beside my sainted moth- 
 er," he said, stopping short at a handsomely dec- 
 orated pew, about midway of the aisle. " Over 
 there the Paisleys sat : I wonder if any of the 
 family are living. Just in front of us Dr. George 
 Littlefield and his family, five pretty girls, 
 sir ; " and he turned to me smiling roguishly. 
 " I leave you to decide, sir, whether a young 
 fellow of sixteen can pay over-much attention 
 to a sermon in view of five pretty girls, any one 
 of them bewitching enough to turn the brain 
 of an anchorite, let alone a poor boy who wor- 
 shipped beauty. 
 
 " How it all comes back to me ! the Penns, 
 the Coles, the Mackeys, the Jedsons, the Schol- 
 leys, the Pinkertons ah ! I knew them all, sir. 
 Excuse me, sir ; " and he took out a fine white 
 handkerchief, and pressed it to his eyes. I de- 
 clare, the effect was very fine there in the 
 mellow light of the old church. I felt like shed- 
 ding a tear or two myself. 
 
 Then he examined the various hymn-books, 
 turned to the initial pages, and read the names. 
 
 " Alas ! many of them new to me, sir ; though 
 I remember the Eddys and the Oldfields. 
 George Oldfield was a very elegant man : it was
 
 IO8 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 once thought he would be the President of the 
 United States. The Eddys drove up in their 
 carriage and pair : it was said his horses cost 
 him a round five thousand. He had his own 
 sailing-vessel, too, and usually spent his sum- 
 mers on board. I don't know of a family with 
 more leisure and money at their command. I 
 wonder," he mused thoughtfully, " if his descend- 
 ants have gone through the fortune, or are they 
 rich now." 
 
 " I believe the Eddys are rich," I said ; " but 
 I think circumstances will warrant me in say- 
 ing that they use their privileges very badly. 
 In other words, this Eddy and his wife are ex- 
 tremely niggardly, and, when they do come to 
 church, wear neither decent nor comfortable 
 clothing. They have only one daughter, who 
 by all accounts is both crippled and silly ; and 
 a boy who is deformed." 
 
 " Dear me ! what degeneration ! It often 
 happens so," he said with a sigh. "The fine 
 brain rarely transmits its superior attributes to 
 its successor ; the godly grandfather looks with 
 sorrow on his unprincipled grandson : we can- 
 not account for it, the wisest of us. Dear me ! 
 I never noticed till this moment you have a 
 modern church-organ ! The one I remember 
 was a nondescript thing, with mock brasses, 
 and a most unearthly wheeze ; while the boy 
 invariably went to sleep over the bellows."
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 His description made me laugh, it was so 
 true to the life : I remembered the old organ. 
 The new one was put in the second Sunday of 
 my ministration. 
 
 " It is a very fine organ, and I am proud of 
 . it," I said. 
 
 He turned to me. 
 
 " Perhaps you play," he said. 
 
 " I play after my fashion," was my reply. 
 
 "The distinctive feature of music lies in the 
 feeling we have as performer or as hearer. I 
 am sure you are fond of music : permit me to 
 be a listener, if for only a few minutes." 
 
 My vanity responded. I soon had the instru- 
 ment unlocked, and the bellows in full play. 
 
 " If you will pardon me," said my new friend, 
 " I will go to the front of the chancel. There, 
 as in viewing masses of positive color, you had 
 best look from a given point ; so, in music, I 
 am more impressed at a little distance from the 
 performer." 
 
 " Certainly," I said, flattered by his deferen- 
 tial manner, and some strong words of praise 
 he added. 
 
 He went down towards the chancel, and I 
 poured my soul into the music. I have the gift 
 of improvisation, my friends are pleased to say, 
 in a remarkable degree ; and the utter silence 
 of my hearer delighted me. After the lapse of
 
 I IO TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 a considerable time, I finished, and turned 
 round. There stood my visitor like one en- 
 tranced, in front of the chancel, his face alight 
 with pleasure. 
 
 " Don't, don't stop ! " he said, with an impres- 
 sive movement of his hand : " it is heavenly." 
 
 But I had spent my enthusiasm, and walked 
 towards him. We talked a little further on un- 
 important subjects, and then he rose to go. 
 
 " You will stay to dinner," I said. " I am 
 sure Mrs. Clements will second my invita- 
 tion." 
 
 " Thanks, thanks," he replied ; " but I believe 
 I have two other engagements, which call for 
 all my spare time to-day. I have absolutely 
 lengthened a call, that should have occupied 
 minutes only, to nearly an hour. Pray forgive 
 me, and allow me to express my sincere pleas- 
 ure that the old church has so popular a rec- 
 tor. Oh ! by the way, I am recently, as I told 
 you before, from one of the beautiful isles of 
 the sea; and during my travels I gathered a 
 large collection of macaws, birds of splendid 
 plumage, that can be trained to speech. The 
 birds are very young ; but all the better, you 
 know, for that. Allow me to present your lady 
 one, with my best wishes." 
 
 " Indeed," I said, " I cannot permit that. I 
 know the birds are valuable, and you really must
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. Ill 
 
 let me pay for it. I am sure it must have cost 
 you to transport them to this country." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! a trifle : but I could not think of 
 taking any thing. It is a present out of respect 
 for the dear old church. You are aware, I sup- 
 pose, that they need a particular kind of cage. 
 These are to be bought at Restwick's, New 
 York; and, if you will write them, you can 
 easily get one sent you. By the way, I will call 
 there. Restwick is a friend of mine ; ' I have 
 bought several cages of him : and you may 
 rely upon it, I will, by giving my personal 
 attention, secure you a perfect one in every 
 respect." 
 
 " Perhaps you would oblige me by paying for 
 it, and sending it to my address, yourself," I 
 said. 
 
 " Well if you feel particular. I suppose it 
 would come here much sooner. The price is 
 only ten dollars, express-charges included. I 
 often take little commissions from my friends." 
 
 I found a ten-dollar bill in my pocket, and 
 put it into his hands. He gave me a receipt, 
 and then took his leave. I felt as if parting 
 from a valued friend. 
 
 " My dear Hal ! " Hester greeted me : " why 
 didn't you stay all day ? " 
 
 I gave her certain reasons, carefully conceal- 
 ing the matter of the gift, and regretting that
 
 112 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 my new-found acquaintance would not stay to 
 dinner. 
 
 " I'm so glad ! " she said, drawing a long 
 breath. I looked at her in surprise. 
 
 " Then, you didn't like him ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 "There was a way he glanced round the 
 study that I didn't like," said Hester: "it was 
 mousey, and his eye was bad." 
 
 I sat back and laughed, but not without some 
 inward misgivings. However, I finished my 
 dinner, enjoyed a quiet afternoon, and next 
 morning sent Jenkins, according to agreement, 
 to the pier of a certain steamship company, for 
 the bird, which was to be delivered in a small 
 wooden cage. 
 
 Ten o'clock came, and so did Jenkins, grin- 
 ning from ear to ear. 
 
 " What makes you look so pleased ? " said 
 Hester, as the man presented himself. 
 
 I winked at Jenkins, I hemmed, I scuffled my 
 foot ; but the impenetrable rascal stood there, 
 still grinning. 
 
 "Why, there war no less than twenty gentle- 
 men's servants, and lots of ministers, on the 
 wharf, all waiting for birds." 
 
 " For birds ! " said Hester wonderingly. 
 
 " Let me explain, wife," I began. 
 
 " And, begorra, they'll have to stand till the 
 ind of the worrld," Jenkins went on, " before
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 113 
 
 they'll git 'em ! It's a swindle, sir ; and they'd 
 all paid for cages too : " and then, unrestrained 
 by the fear of ministerial dignity, he burst into 
 a loud guffaw. 
 
 " For pity's sake, Hal, what does it all 
 mean ? " asked Hester, as he slunk out of the 
 door ; and then I had to tell her. 
 
 " If you had only spoken to me ! " she said, 
 and then laughed till her eyes were dropping 
 tears. 
 
 " It is too good ! I shall have to tell papa. 
 Why couldn't you see through him ? It seems 
 to me I could. I told you he was mousey." 
 Suddenly she paused with a blank face. 
 
 "I left my watch and chain there," she 
 gasped, "on your study-table the one papa 
 gave me, with brother Willy's hair braided in 
 the back. O Hal ! I have an awful presenti- 
 ment. I took it off to fix a bit of the chain, 
 and couldn't manage it. Then I laid it on that 
 little ledge of your study-table till I could find 
 my book : then he came in, and yes, I guess 
 he frightened me into forgetting my watch. I 
 haven't thought of it since." 
 
 With quaking hearts we went into the study. 
 
 The watch was gone ! So was my pearl- 
 handled pen-knife, a gold toothpick, a pair of 
 gloves, and a very beautiful gold and enamelled 
 paper-cutter. By this time I was heart-sick.
 
 114 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " He must have taken these things when I 
 was playing the polished hypocrite! " I said. 
 " If I could get my hands upon him, I'd rope's- 
 end him in spite of my cloth ! " 
 
 I made a round of visits to my brother clergy- 
 men. They had all been victimized. He had 
 played the same role in each instance, and with 
 such success, that he must have been the richer 
 by a hundred dollars or more. 
 
 By setting interested friends to work, I ob- 
 tained possession of the watch, which had been 
 pawned ; but money, or birds, or man, I never 
 saw again.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " Some stubborn natures are willing that wrong should be spoken 
 of them rather than make all right, even by a sign." 
 
 " T WISH you would call round and see my 
 1 wife. Tilly has taken a fancy that she is 
 sick." 
 
 Tom Tracy said this in his careless fashion, 
 as he stood in the shadow of the chancel one 
 Sunday afternoon. 
 
 " Tilly is a little notional now and then," he 
 added, playing with his watch-chain : " women 
 all are, I suppose, particularly when they have 
 no hobbies. I wish my wife would take to dis- 
 trict-visiting, or even a Sunday-school class. 
 As it is, she has nothing to do but to keep the 
 house nice, and help my little girl in her sewing. 
 When she goes, I don't know what will become 
 of Tilly." 
 
 " Wives are a good deal what we make them," 
 I said. "When the children go, the husbands 
 must redouble their attentions." 
 
 I looked at him as he stood there, supremely
 
 Il6 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 handsome, his cold, clear-cut features, over 
 which no ripple of emotion stirred, reminding 
 me of the classic statues of antiquity, and won- 
 dered what was passing under that fine, passion- 
 less exterior. Surely this man, with not one 
 sensuous feature, could be neither tempter nor 
 tempted in his keen encounter with life, the 
 strange experiences that sometimes surrounded 
 him by reason of his calling. 
 
 " Yes : but " then he placed his lips to- 
 gether, cast a penetrating glance at me "a 
 man can't be forever at home," he added, evi- 
 dently changing the sentence which had all but 
 escaped him. " Shall I tell Tilly you will come 
 round ? " he queried, his voice grown a little 
 hard, and his eyes a little brighter. 
 
 "Tell her she may expect me to-morrow." 
 
 I watched him moving down the aisle : his 
 imposing figure, and graceful walk and bearing, 
 would have arrested my attention anywhere ; 
 but now all his graces seemed heightened, and 
 his manliness was doubly attractive. I was 
 studying him. 
 
 " At all events, the choir were gone," I said 
 to myself : the siren had not enchained him, 
 for that night at least. I should be able to 
 make the promised visit with a lighter heart. 
 
 Jenkins had put out the lights, and I went 
 into the study to finish my paper. Presently
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 1 1/ 
 
 the door opened, and Dolly peeped in. How 
 happy she looked ! Her eyes were laughing 
 with joy and sweetness. 
 
 "Come in," I said, "you and Mr. Ravaillac. 
 Of course you are together." 
 
 " I am only too happy," said the Frenchman 
 in his precise English, showing himself, and 
 entering. 
 
 " Your choir staid late, didn't it ? " queried 
 Dolly. 
 
 " No : it went early," I said. 
 
 "But we just met Mr. Tom Tracy and Mrs. 
 Stanley," said Dolly. "They got into a car as 
 we got out." 
 
 " Yes ; and I had a linguistic battle," said 
 the Frenchman, with flashing eyes. 
 
 "Truly you did," laughed Dolly; "but the 
 car went while you were fighting it. Mr. Tracy 
 will call you out if you are not careful." 
 
 "And it is that I will give him' what satisfac- 
 tion he asks." 
 
 " We don't fight duels in our country," I said : 
 but my heart felt like lead in my bosom. She 
 that woman had been waiting for him dur- 
 ing all the time of my conference with him. 
 
 I said nothing to Hester about it, but looked 
 forward to my approaching visit with dread. 
 
 It was early when I called at the Tracys. 
 The neat maid had just laid the mat on the
 
 Il8 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 broad marble step, and she held the door for 
 me to enter. 
 
 " How beautiful a home ! " I thought, as my 
 feet sank in the rich, thick carpets, and I looked 
 about on the walls, perfect in their wealth of 
 color, in brackets, pictures, vases. 
 
 Presently I was ushered up-stairs. Mrs. Tra- 
 cy's colorless face was the first thing that met 
 my eyes. She was sitting up in a great velvet 
 bed-chair, and there was something like the pal- 
 lor of death in her countenance. I could not 
 help displaying my astonishment. 
 
 " You are very kind," she said, holding out 
 her hand languidly, "very good and kind." 
 
 " I did not think, from what Mr. Tracy said, 
 to find you like this," I said unguardedly. 
 
 "Tom doesn't know." Her lips quivered 
 through a wavering smile. 
 
 " Tom should know ! " I said impulsively, and 
 then paused, finding myself on the horns of a 
 dilemma. She had as yet confided nothing to 
 me, though I was her priest, and ready enough 
 to be, in one sense, her confessor. I never 
 could abide confidences, even by the sick-bed ; 
 but my calling made it often incumbent upon 
 me to hear the secret burdens of many a bleed- 
 ing heart. 
 
 " O sir ! " she said, " I beseech you, help me 
 if you can ! "
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " What can I do ? " I asked softly. 
 
 " Save him ! " 
 
 " You mean your husband ? " 
 
 " Not so much for my sake as for his. And 
 yet, my heart is breaking. Sometimes I feel 
 the very strings snap." 
 
 She gave living action to the speech by a 
 most expressive gesture. 
 
 " If I only knew how ! " I said helplessly. 
 "Has he told you nothing?" It would have 
 been affectation to ask her what she meant. 
 
 "That is what is killing me. He tells me 
 nothing. He only laughs, or answers with a 
 jest. I implore, I pray, I weep. He laughs. 
 Cruel, cruel ! " 
 
 "Are you angry with him when you talk?" I 
 asked, hap-hazard. 
 
 " Angry ! One can't be angry with Tom. 
 Tom is so lovable ! " 
 
 She looked afar off, as if she saw the lost idol 
 of her. youth. 
 
 " O sir ! I wish I could be angry. And, if I 
 could, he would still smile." Then in a lower 
 voice, and with an expression of agony, 
 
 " It can't be that he loves her ! " 
 
 Then, in still more solemn tones, 
 
 " What have I ever done that he should for- 
 get me ? Nothing, but worship him. God 
 knows, that, if it is really for his happiness, I 
 wish to die."
 
 I2O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " It would not be for his happiness," I said 
 sternly; "but it might be for his punishment." 
 
 " No, no ! I would have him happy," she 
 exclaimed, bursting into tears. " Let me bear 
 all the sorrow. I wonder, if he laid me in the 
 grave, would the old love come back." 
 
 Then, after a long pause, 
 
 " She will be the murderer ! Oh, she must 
 have used many arts to entrap him ! I would 
 have trusted him all my life. He might have 
 left me for years, and I would have trusted him. 
 What do you think is the magic she uses ? I 
 don't know but I would even stoop to borrow 
 of her." Then, with a terrible flashing of the 
 eyes, " I do not blame him I blame her. At 
 her door my death will lie ! " 
 
 " Come, let us reason," I said, for the scene 
 was becoming too painful. "You must not 
 give up : dying would not mend the matter. 
 Can you not think of something some magic 
 of human love ? When he comes home, you say 
 you do not reproach him ? " 
 
 " Never ! I beg, I entreat, I pray : he is al- 
 ways the same. He will tell me nothing, 
 though I should be dying at his feet." 
 
 " Perhaps if you pretended not to notice him, 
 went with him to the rehearsals, insisted on your 
 right as a wife to his husbandly attentions " 
 
 She looked at me intently.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 121 
 
 " Do you think I am marble ? " she said. 
 "Why, the first time I saw that woman look at 
 him with her wicked eyes, I could have stran- 
 gled her ! I saw him once place her shawl on 
 her shoulders yet I have seen him do that 
 hundreds of times, to the ladies of our house- 
 hold, or acquaintances, or even strangers. What 
 did I care ? I loved him better for it ; but there 
 came a silent, swift, invisible dagger, that smote 
 me through and through 'at sight of that sim- 
 ple attention to her! It took the strength 
 out of my heart, and it has never come back. 
 Don't ask me to go near her to act the spy 
 on him. Trouble would come of it sore, bitter 
 trouble." 
 
 " What, then, do you propose to do ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 She turned her head wearily away. 
 
 " I must die, I suppose," she said, in a pitiful 
 voice ; and I could see how her sorrow had 
 sapped. the energy of her life, and it might be 
 that death was the only way out. 
 
 " It may not be as bad as you imagine," I 
 said. 
 
 "I imagine nothing bad of him! That 
 woman is pitiless : she would rob me of my hus- 
 band. She holds her finger on my heart, and 
 she knows her power." 
 
 " Shall I speak to Mr. Tracy ? "
 
 122 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Oh, if you only would ! say something but 
 oh ! say it so kindly ! His temperament is a 
 strange one. If he would only say, * Tilly, I 
 don't care for her,' just those few words, 
 I'd never think of it again. But he won't. He 
 just laughs, and treats me like a child. I feel 
 myself belittled, undervalued. He believes me 
 silly, notional, jealous. O Heavens! and I am 
 a woman, and his wife ! It is very hard ! " 
 
 "Then, you will leave the matter in my 
 hands ? " 
 
 She looked up, an imploring expression in her 
 pale, beautiful face. 
 
 " You will be gentle with him ? You will try 
 to win his confidence ? If he says one word to 
 you that will exonerate him but I know I can 
 trust you. I will leave the matter in your 
 hands." 
 
 I left Mrs. Tracy with added respect for her- 
 self, and a cold contempt of her husband. 
 Many a new-filled grave have I come from with 
 a lighter heart. In my short course of minis- 
 tration, I had never seen such agony as this. 
 It depressed me, followed, enveloped me. 
 
 Hester rallied me upon my nervousness, and 
 Dolly's beautiful eyes followed me with loving 
 sympathy. If I had told Hester, it would have 
 lessened the burden ; but I was unconsciously 
 following Tom Tracy's example* Why should
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 123 
 
 I trouble her? It was not in her power, I 
 thought, to give me aid in these vexatious mat- 
 ters. But it was. I was simply draining my own 
 strength, and I do not think that even prayer 
 gave me the help her counsel might have done. 
 
 The following day Tom Tracy came to my 
 study to consult me about the music for the 
 coming Christmas. 
 
 I went over the list he held, revised it, and 
 then with a sinking heart fortified myself as 
 best I could for the coming struggle. There 
 was no need. 
 
 The man was polished from his hat to his 
 boot-toes, keen as his own practice, and as slip- 
 pery as if he had been born a native of the 
 jungles, with fangs and rattles. 
 
 " By the way, I called on Mrs. Tracy yester- 
 day, Tom," I said. 
 
 " Hm ! I thought her looking better when I 
 went home. Thanks ! " 
 
 " But, Tom you are not aware, perhaps I 
 consider her a very sick woman." 
 
 " She may be," said Tom ; " but the doctor 
 doesn't think so." 
 
 " Doctors don't always understand the state 
 of a patient. For instance " 
 
 He looked at me, calm as a statue. 
 
 " It is not always the body that is suffering. 
 There are ills beyond that."
 
 124 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " I have heard so," he said simply. " Some- 
 thing that brings on hysterics sometimes." 
 
 I clinched my teeth. The fellow either could 
 not or would not understand. What should I 
 say to enlighten him ? 
 
 " Your wife sent for me, to tell me, as her 
 pastor, a matter that weighs heavily on her 
 mind. Do you happen to know of any trouble 
 that interferes with her happiness ? " 
 
 " I do not," he replied stolidly. 
 
 "You will pardon me if I speak plainly," I 
 said, feeling the gravity of the situation more 
 and more keenly, though his utter indifference 
 goaded me on. 
 
 " I should be most happy if you are in my 
 wife's confidence, better acquainted with her 
 trials than I am, to listen to the plainest kind 
 of speech." 
 
 His undisguised sarcasm stung me. I lost 
 my temper. 
 
 "Your attentions to Mrs. Stanley are very 
 marked," I said, without more circumlocution. 
 " Others have seen it besides myself. Two or 
 three of the vestry have noticed it." 
 
 " What do they say ? " he asked, after a brief 
 pause, during which his face was as immobile 
 as ever. 
 
 " I decline to state, just now," was my an- 
 swer.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 125 
 
 "What do you say?" he asked, without the 
 alteration of a feature. 
 
 "That I am satisfied you are doing yourself 
 a great wrong." 
 
 " What does my wife say ? " he then queried, 
 his face flushing slightly. 
 
 I thought of all her agony, all her heroism, 
 all her tenderness for him, as she had pleaded 
 with me not to be harsh. 
 
 "Your wife says she cannot lose your love 
 and live." 
 
 He frowned slightly. 
 
 " What in the world makes women suck 
 fools ? " He spoke musingly and slowly, as if 
 to himself. " Tilly knows she irritates me if 
 she doubts me, and yet she will persist in this 
 causeless jealousy." 
 
 " Causeless ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Of a man who looks at almost every thing 
 from a judicial stand-point, yes. I know what 
 I am about. Tilly must not meddle with my 
 business, neither, with all due deference to your 
 ministerial duties, must you. If my wife eases 
 her mind by confession, or whatever she may 
 call it, to her pastor, well and good : I don't 
 object. Neither do I choose to give my reasons 
 for every trifling attention I show to another 
 lady. Must I bother her with all my law-cases ? 
 I have several lady clients. Tilly must learn to
 
 126 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 trust me, to be more of a woman, and less an 
 unreasoning child. I don't choose to carry shop 
 home to my wife ; and she ought to know it, 
 and thank me for it." 
 
 " But why not enlighten her in this particu- 
 lar case if it is all business ? It would not de- 
 rogate from your dignity as a man, and would 
 certainly be more to your credit as a husband." 
 
 He answered me with a home-thrust. With 
 his fine gray eyes searchingly fixed on mine, he 
 asked, 
 
 " Do you tell your wife every thing? " 
 
 For an instant I felt weak and helpless. The 
 sword had struck home. Instantly, upon the 
 canvas of my memory, started forth the face of 
 Miriam, reproachful, affectionate, passionate, 
 sad, by turns. There was certainly no distinct 
 parallel between the two cases, yet for a mo- 
 ment I felt the sense of guilt for an offence that 
 was not venial, for I had never wavered in the 
 truest allegiance to Hester; while this man 
 could smile serenely, though he must be con- 
 scious that the weal or woe of a human soul 
 hung upon his decision. 
 
 But there was the question he had thrust in 
 my face ; and it recalled my own arrogant as- 
 sumptions of manly superiority, my often ex- 
 pressed convictions, that, as head of the wife, 
 the husband has no call to confer in any matter,
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 save what may seem good in his judgment, 
 with his second and often better self. 
 
 " Perhaps not as much as I should," was my 
 reply ; " but if I saw her health departing, her 
 body losing its vigor, her heart breaking, for 
 lack of the confidence she may feel to be her 
 right, I think I should, even if it amounted to 
 the confession of sin." 
 
 " You speak like a parson," he said half an- 
 grily. " And you do not know the facts of the 
 case : they are not to be whispered, only into the 
 ears of one's lawyer. Professional men must 
 have secrets, even from their wives : some of 
 these they must carry, even to the grave. It is 
 an unhappy chance, perhaps, that one's clients 
 are beautiful and young, as well as unfortunate. 
 It is also unfortunate that self-constituted spies 
 transmute what they see and hear into their own 
 base metal, and then circulate the coin. I 
 am quite aware that I have been followed. I am 
 also aware that some false friend has written to 
 Tilly, making the case out to suit her own de- 
 praved convictions. And if my wife chooses to 
 believe such trash why, she must e'en do it. 
 I shall not try to enlighten her. I will not 
 stoop so low ! " 
 
 His lip quivered with suppressed passion, 
 and his brow lowered. For the first time I 
 read in his face the power to do evil and the 
 will to conceal it.
 
 128 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Then, you will not by a word put an end to 
 your wife's distress, even anguish?" 
 
 " I swear I will not," he said, in a tone of 
 suppressed fury : then, evidently feeling that he 
 had gone too far, his face dazzled with a smile 
 that was all sweetness and sunshine. 
 
 " I am very impetuous sometimes," he said : 
 "you must pardon me, and excuse my abrupt 
 departure. I have an engagement with Mrs. 
 Stanley at twelve." 
 
 He bowed, turned on his heel, and walked 
 down the aisle towards the door, firing this au- 
 dacious shot at me as an earnest of his unalter- 
 able will. 
 
 "Perhaps it is all right," I said to myself. 
 "These conferences behind the choir-curtain 
 are safer than at the office or at her home. 
 She may be applying for a divorce, and have 
 reasons for wishing it to be kept secret. After 
 all, his wife's jealous fears may be without 
 foundation, and his anger may be that of a just 
 man wrongly accused. I wonder what Hester 
 will think of it." 
 
 For the first time almost in my life, I felt my 
 helplessness, and longed for my wife's co-opera- 
 tion, the expression of her judgment, instinct, 
 whatever subtle force it is that makes woman 
 judge and jury in special cases. I had but poor 
 consolation to carry to Tom's wife ; and I was
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 half angry that it devolved upon me to see her, 
 and state the success, or non-success rather, of 
 my interview. 
 
 When I went into the house, Hester and 
 Dolly were talking something over very softly. 
 
 Hester's aunt, Miriam's mother, was dead.
 
 I3O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " Flowers for the bridal, 
 
 Flowers for the dead. " 
 
 THE news had just come. 
 Hester was very quiet, but in this case 
 grief was impossible. She had never quite 
 loved her aunt Hope, though very fond of her 
 cousin Miriam. 
 
 " We have been wondering what poor Miriam 
 will do," said Hester softly. "And, if I were 
 you, I would go there right away. I am sure 
 she would not want any one else but you. Tell 
 her I will come again this evening. I have just 
 been there, and mamma and papa are doing 
 every thing that needs to be done." 
 
 "But will it not be better forme to wait 
 till you go ? " I said. 
 
 " Why, of course one's clergyman is expected 
 to call immediately in such trouble as this," 
 said Hester, looking up, some surprise in her 
 glance. " I'm afraid aunt Hope was so unfor- 
 tunate in her temperament, that you visit her
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 13! 
 
 sins on poor cousin Miriam, and that she is 
 not a favorite of yours. But she is very differ- 
 ent from her mother." 
 
 "Perhaps I had better go," I said "if she 
 will see me." 
 
 " I think one always wants to see one's cler- 
 gyman," said Hester. 
 
 I took my hat and cane mechanically, and 
 went forth on this very unpleasant duty. The 
 exercise would do me good, even if Miriam de- 
 clined to see me. On the road I tried to forget 
 the unpleasant character of my last interview 
 with her, and stopped for the purpose of exam- 
 ining a bit of stone jutting out from the rest. 
 In bending over to see more plainly, my eye 
 followed an object that glittered, half buried in 
 the ground. Another moment, and I held in 
 my hand a valuable solitaire diamond earring of 
 antique shape and pattern. The gold was dim 
 and stained, but the stone was remarkably clear 
 and brilliant. Wondering much at this strange 
 incident, I placed the ornament in my pocket, 
 and proceeded on to the cottage of the Hopes. 
 
 Alas ! the shroud seems to envelop all mate- 
 rial things when death comes into any house- 
 hold. The quietude, the crape on the door, the 
 closed blinds, the general mournful aspect of 
 the surroundings, extending even to the trees 
 and the flowers in the garden, seem a commen-
 
 132 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 tary on the fleeting value of all that lives. I 
 rang the bell. A colored servant came to the 
 door, and ushered me into the parlor. Flowers 
 in baskets and on stands saluted my senses. 
 Will it be believed ? I had already become in- 
 different to the delicious fragrance of every 
 flower that breathes the air of the charnel- 
 house. Seeing them heaped up on coffins, 
 placed in the hands of the dead, wreathed about 
 their cold faces, lying on their pulseless breasts, 
 flung into their gloomy graves, clustered over 
 the green-sward, has sickened me. Thus, when 
 I enter the bright homes of my parishioners, 
 the perfume of the heavily scented roses, so 
 grateful to the senses of most people, is a dis- 
 turbing element to me ; and the last funeral 
 rises up to haunt me with all its dread, disturb- 
 ing recollections. 
 
 My mother-in-law sat there, sorting the flow- 
 ers. She looked rather cheerful, though at 
 sight of me she drew down the corners of her 
 mouth. 
 
 "I was thinking of you," she said, "and 
 wondering why you didn't come. Poor sister 
 Lydia held out a long time : she had a terrible 
 will. And I'm glad the flowers came in, she 
 was so fond of flowers ! Pity you couldn't have 
 been with her at the last, but she was called in 
 the night. It seemed sudden, too ; and we none
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 133 
 
 of us know," etc. I spare the reader all the 
 moralizing I can. I hate it myself. 
 
 " How does Miriam bear it ? " was my first 
 question. 
 
 "Very bravely. There is a good deal of 
 strength in Miriam's character. She resisted 
 as long as she could keep the enemy at bay. 
 When all was over; she was very calm. Miriam 
 has always seemed to me like a daughter : in- 
 deed, she is more like me than Hester ever 
 was." 
 
 This was a gratifying piece of intelligence. 
 I had been slowly, hardening my heart against 
 Miriam, partly perhaps because I had unwitt- 
 ingly done her a wrong, partly because of some 
 glimpses I had caught of her character. More 
 in love than ever with my Hester, I was glad 
 Miriam did not resemble her. 
 
 Presently a slow step sounded : the door 
 opened, and there stood Miriam. Evidently 
 the maid had not told her of my coming ; for 
 she started and drew back as she saw me, and 
 the color rolled in a wave all over her face. 
 Otherwise she was unchanged. A curious ex- 
 pression, like an electric flash, suffused her 
 countenance as she drew herself up, and came 
 quietly forward. 
 
 " So your mother has left us," I said. 
 
 " Yes : " the tears welled up to her eyes ;
 
 134 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 "but I ought not to mourn, she was such a 
 sufferer." 
 
 "And while I admire her resignation," said 
 my mother-in-law, " I cannot agree with Miriam 
 in her decision against full mourning." 
 
 " I am but following out mamma's own sug- 
 gestion," said Miriam, her beautiful dark eyes 
 still suffused. " I always dress in black ; but 
 crape " she shuddered. " I should die muffled 
 up in crape." 
 
 " Your decision does your judgment credit," 
 I said. " I condemn crape. Let our mourning 
 be of the heart, not of the garments." 
 
 "Fudge!" ejaculated Hester's mother con- 
 temptuously. " There is nothing more becom- 
 ing or fashionable. I'd swathe her in it if I 
 had my way, particularly with her style of 
 beauty. And it looks so proper at a church 
 funeral." 
 
 " Mamma will be buried from the house," said 
 Miriam softly. 
 
 " Now, Miriam, you do provoke me. If I 
 had thought my sister was to have a common- 
 place funeral, like any poor parishioner, I de- 
 clare I wouldn't have stirred out of the house." 
 
 "But I must follow out mamma's last wishes," 
 said Miriam imploringly; "and that was one 
 of them." 
 
 " Well, J am very sorry ; " and she grouped the
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 135 
 
 flowers with nervous energy. "Lydia always 
 was full of whims, even at her best. Why, this 
 room won't hold fifty people ; and our friends 
 are legion. If it had been a large, stylish house, 
 now, the effect would have been different. She 
 must have known she was going against my 
 wishes. Besides, it looks as if she held a grudge 
 against the rector." 
 
 Miriam turned deadly pale. I feared she was 
 going to faint. But she conquered the weak- 
 ness, and her color came back. 
 
 "Mamma's ideas of things changed very 
 much during her sickness," she said quietly. 
 
 " I hope she didn't say how she wanted to be 
 laid out," muttered my mother-in-law. 
 
 " Yes, she did ; and I have given instructions 
 in white," said Miriam. 
 
 The woman let fall her flowers. 
 
 " If she had had a grudge against me" she 
 said angrily, "she couldn't have more crossed 
 my wishes ; and she with a full suit of black 
 satin ! I declare I sha'n't be able to look folks 
 in the face. One would think we had been 
 reared in the dark ages. Everybody who is 
 buried decently is buried in good clothes." Say- 
 ing this, she left the room. 
 
 Miriam smiled faintly. 
 
 " My aunt is a great stickler for fashion, even 
 with the dead," she said sadly.
 
 136 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 I attempted a few words of consolation, but 
 they seemed to fall flat. Miriam was silent. 
 One thought was dominant in my mind. Her 
 mother had disliked an.d defied me, and my pres- 
 ence was distasteful to her. She only listened 
 on sufferance. I rose to depart, and held out 
 my hand. She gave me hers, but only for a 
 touch, drawing it away as if it stung her. 
 
 "Cousin Miriam," I said, "are we not 
 friends ? " 
 
 Turning partly away, she whispered some- 
 thing that was inaudible to me ; turned again, 
 cast upon me a look that I should have resented 
 had she given me time, and hurried from the 
 room, apparently convulsed with grief. 
 
 This was pleasant, and I heartily wished 
 Hester's cousin at the antipodes. So poor and 
 weak a creature was not exactly formidable as 
 an enemy, but even weakness has its weapons 
 when guided by impulse or passion. 
 
 Hester was an eager questioner when I re- 
 turned home. How did Miriam meet me ? what 
 was her mother doing ? To stay the tide of her 
 unreasoning yet natural curiosity, I brought 
 forth the earring I had found. 
 
 Hester seized it with a little cry. 
 
 " Where did you find it ? I have its counter- 
 part up-stairs in my jewel-box. The rings be- 
 longed to my mother's great-grandmother ! O
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 Hal, what a lucky fellow you are ! I have so 
 many times wished for this, so valuable as an 
 heirloom, you know ; and now I can wear them 
 both. Mother will be so delighted. How did 
 it come in your possession ? " 
 
 I explained. 
 
 " I'm so glad ! We always thought poor 
 Prinny stole it. Prinny was a half-witted girl, 
 who used to come with her mother to do the 
 scrubbing when I was a child. I remember 
 there was a terrible time, and how meek the 
 poor woman was under it all. I remember also 
 hearing afterwards that people thought mother 
 was very hard towards her, and also that when 
 the girl died, a few years ago, she declared that 
 God would show those rich, purse-proud people 
 that she was innocent. Now, you know, this 
 proves it ; and we must go at once to Susan 
 Coles, and tell her about it." 
 
 To Susan Coles I gladly accompanied my 
 wife that very night. The old woman lived in 
 a little tumble-down cabin on the edge of the 
 county road. I shall never forget her look when 
 Hester told the story of finding the earring. 
 
 " My poor Prinny ! do you hear ? do you see ? " 
 she said, in accents of almost holy joy. Then, 
 turning to us with dignity, " I knew my child 
 wasn't a thief. And I don't believe you ever 
 thought it, Miss Hester," she added.
 
 138 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " No, Susan : I always pitied you," said Hes- 
 ter, "and kept a lookout for you." 
 
 "That you have, Miss Hester: the Lord bless 
 you for it ! " said the old wornflp 
 
 From there to the profe^lrs house. Hes- 
 ter's mother heard the storjifcough, and looked 
 at the ring. jM 
 
 " I'm not so sure Prinn^udn't take it, now," 
 she said serenely. "I should like to know, how 
 you can prove that she didn't throw it where 
 you found it." 
 
 "That's mother!" said Hester to me after- 
 wards : " once she makes up her mind, no earth- 
 ly power can change it. I have noticed that 
 trait in our Frenchman ; and, by the way, 
 don't you see how much he likes Dolly ? I'm 
 quite sure he will marry her, and take her to 
 Paris on their bridal tour. And his sister is 
 coming over to America, the sister he loves 
 so dearly. It does me good to hear him talk 
 about her. By the way, I don't think you have 
 seen her picture." 
 
 She went to a little cabinet, and brought me 
 a picture of a beautiful woman, dressed in black, 
 with soft laces at wrists and throat. 
 
 "That is the French colonel's wife : and they 
 have a little son, a darling little boy ; she is 
 going to bring him with her. It seems as if he 
 would go wild with happiness when he talks
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 139 
 
 about 'them. ' Only three weeks,' he says, 
 over and over, 'and 'I shall see mon ange Elise !' 
 I have become so much interested in her, my- 
 self, that I know I shall like her as a friend. 
 And she can talk English too. He showed me 
 a letter very fairly written, indeed, for a French 
 woman who has never left France. There was 
 an allusion to Madame the Comtesse de Berri ; 
 which shows, you know, that they have good 
 society." 
 
 I was very glad for little Dolly, the more so 
 as my wife seemed to vouch for the respecta- 
 bility of Ravaillac. But I had made up my 
 mind that I should ask for something more 
 than his word for it.
 
 I4O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " To make pretence, look large, and cry up my ancestors, sirs I " 
 
 MRS. HOPE was buried, the cottage let to 
 a widow who taught school, and Miriam 
 became an inmate of the professor's home. 
 Marguerite was well pleased with the arrange- 
 ment, as she had never liked her school ; and 
 Miriam was quite competent to instruct the 
 child in all the common branches. 
 
 I seldom saw Miriam, except when she came 
 to church ; and then the professor's pew was 
 nearer the choir than the chancel : and she 
 never remained after services, even to speak to 
 Hester, who declared, that, of late, Miriam was 
 an enigma. 
 
 One day Jenkins brought an ordinary paper 
 tablet, which he said he had found one Sunday, 
 a little way from the rector's pew. At first I 
 placed it on my desk, for I was busy. A fresh 
 instalment of the Tracy-Stanley scandal had 
 just been brought to my hearing, and it pained 
 me deeply. Mrs. Tracy never came to church
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 14! 
 
 now, and her daughter but seldom. That very 
 day Hester had fixed upon for a visit to Mrs. 
 Tracy. 
 
 I had not yet learned the art of resting, but 
 took plunges from one sort of work into another, 
 till both brain and heart were wearied with con- 
 tinuous labor. Added to this, the wear and tear 
 of sympathy with some extraordinary phases of 
 mental suffering among the members of my 
 congregation made even my sleep uncertain. 
 Mrs. Dickory was another worry incidental to 
 my discomfort. She would persist in bringing 
 her three restless, nervous children to church, 
 dressed in the most outre, outlandish manner, 
 and parading them on the front seat just oppo- 
 site the lectern. There she busied herself 
 during the whole service, inspecting their nails 
 and noses, brushing their hair, picking sundry 
 obstructions out of their ears and her own, 
 making eyes at me, and posing in what she 
 thought an attitude of perfect grace, but which 
 was so ridiculous that I sometimes thought I 
 must leave the sacred desk, and turn her and 
 all the young Dickories out of the house. Mr. 
 Dickory never came : they said he did his best 
 work on Sunday. But Mrs. Dickory more than 
 made up for his absence. She was always the 
 last person to leave the church : and she talked 
 incessantly, whoever else claimed my attention ;
 
 142 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 while I had not even the poor privilege of bid- 
 ding her hold her tongue, but must listen with 
 one ear on her side, and one on the other, where 
 perchance some one else talked and talked. 
 
 Of all men, the minister is the most acces- 
 sible to bores. They come morning, noon, and 
 night, invade his sanctum, smoke his cigars if 
 he uses them, appropriate his time. Under 
 cover of all kinds of charitable plans, religious 
 doubts or enthusiasms, missionary zeal, domestic 
 difficulties, they steal not only his purse, for it 
 often virtually amounts to that, but his peace 
 of mind, and his well-earned rest. The greater 
 his need of privacy at certain times, the more 
 frequent the interruption, until he cries with 
 St. Paul, " Wretched man that I am, who shall 
 deliver me ? " It takes a man of peculiar re- 
 sources to rid himself of such pests without 
 injury to his reputation as a Christian, or his 
 self-respect as a man. 
 
 I had prepared the paper for my sermon after 
 Jenkins had taken his long ears out of my study, 
 when suddenly my eye fell on the tablets. 
 Something in the fine, formal handwriting at- 
 tracted my attention ; and I lifted it, bringing 
 it nearer.to me. I looked it over for some in- 
 dication of the personnel of the writer ; but there 
 was no name, not even a nom du plume. Had I 
 among my congregation an incipient novelist ?
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 143 
 
 Almost before I knew it, my glance ran over 
 the items. 
 
 "Mem. The name shall be I will find 
 a name later on. 
 
 "To be consistent, I must fit in and perfectly 
 dovetail every fact, and make my memory to 
 be unassailable. For this purpose, these facts 
 must be of the utmost completeness. 
 
 "There shall be an old family, and it must 
 be that the ancestry shall be studied and traced 
 so carefully that no mistakes can be possible. 
 
 " First, then, there is the grand-mere, born of 
 
 noble parents, living at , where she was 
 
 born, as was also my mother. Her home shall 
 be studied, from the tiling on the floors, to the 
 initials on the gable of the house. I shall know 
 even just where the cat sits. I shall answer 
 for the birds and the flowers, their color and 
 their perfume. The chair near the hearth is 
 tapestried : the table is of red satin-wood ; and 
 always there is a basket there, filled with col- 
 ored cottons and wools. 
 
 " With that house are connected several sto- 
 ries. Great generals have made it their resort. 
 During the war, it must have been respected 
 and guarded. The grandmother must be small, 
 quick in all her movements, with a very beauti- 
 ful smile. She must have received her grand- 
 child, when the mother died, as a gift from le
 
 144 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 bon Dieu, and trained him very carefully. Her 
 hair must be snow-white, and her eyes large 
 and dark. 
 
 " Then, there must be a sister married from 
 the same house, and, of course, much older 
 than I am, to one of the great colonels. She 
 moves to another home, really a palace on some 
 fine boulevard, and is very intimate with the 
 nobility. Her name will be I will think of 
 her name presently. She is married five years. 
 Her beautiful little child is three years old. 
 Ah ! the treasure ! the petit neveu ! One's 
 heart leaps out to him so, the sweet little angel 
 with eyes that win one's love ! Yes, that is 
 well conceived, the sister, the grand colonel, 
 the little nephew. It then remains that I can 
 do what I please with the dramatis persona. I 
 make them, and like puppets I move them. 
 They live, they die, at my command. They 
 have wealth, horses, carriages, servants, as I 
 multiply or lessen them. What a privilege ! 
 
 " Now for myself ! 
 
 " If pressed to say why I leave Paris, I have 
 ready a story at my tongue's end. 
 
 " I am educated a soldier. I am the son of a 
 French officer, a martinet as well as a military 
 man. Of imposing presence, tall, muscular, of 
 broad shoulders, one of the handsomest of hand- 
 some men, very much in love with my mother,
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 145 
 
 very strict and severe with the son, such is my 
 father. I admire, I fear him, but I love him 
 not. He uses to me the strictest discipline. 
 I am punished for the most trifling things. I 
 escape from school to go fishing one day. I am 
 put in solitary confinement one week. I refuse 
 to touch my hat to an old soldier. I am put in 
 irons for one day. These things to invent is 
 easy. I will stock my mind with them, and so 
 set down all I would say, and fortify my mem- 
 ory so as that I never forget. 
 
 "Then, as I grow up, I receive a military 
 education. I am put in a French battalion, and 
 I dislike to be deprived of my liberty. At last 
 I have a quarrel. I, second lieutenant, strike 
 my superior, first lieutenant, with my sword. 
 For that I am court-martialed ; but, after sen- 
 tence is passed, I free myself, and immediately 
 fly my country. Ah ! beloved France ! ' France, 
 I adore* theet* I cannot see thee for three 
 years ! My little grandmother idolizes the only 
 son of her only daughter. Every month I 
 receive presents and letters. On my birthday 
 Elise yes, I will call her Elise cables me 
 a message, not forgetting my dear love, whom 
 I idolize, mon ange, the beautiful little one above 
 all others of her sex, and whom I would die for. 
 My sister will write me that she longs to em- 
 brace me ; that she will come to America. I
 
 146 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 engage for her a room : I look for her coming 
 with ecstasy. Alas ! she is ill ! She has fallen 
 from her horse: she is very ill like to die! 
 Thus her visit is put off till later. But she will 
 come do not her letters tell me so ? if she 
 lives ! Again she is coming again she is de- 
 tained it may be necessary for her to die. 
 Of that I will decide myself in time. She sends 
 gifts to mon ange, gifts of the very finest Paris 
 quality that can easily be done. She, with 
 my grandmother, will send me money each 
 month. Then, when all is safe Ah ! when 
 all is safe ! Will that time come ? I am re- 
 quired to produce such evidence " 
 
 Here the manuscript ended, and I sat looking 
 at it stupidly. That neat, methodical hand, 
 more like print than pen I had seen it before, 
 on the notes sent to the house, to little Dolly. 
 What was I to think? Ravaillac must have 
 been the writer ; but what motive could under- 
 lie the curious invention, if invention it was ? 
 Perhaps, after all, it was a mere literary rtsumt ' ; 
 monsieur might be an author ; or he might be 
 giving points to Dolly, knowing her to be a 
 writer of fiction. But then, why did this writ- 
 ten record correspond so exactly with his pres- 
 ent plan of action ? Hester had spoken of his 
 sister, showed me her picture ; she was the wife 
 of a military man ; his description of his grand-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 147 
 
 mother corresponded to the sketch before me ; 
 his sister was expected in America ; he had 
 engaged rooms for her. I remembered now, 
 Dolly's exhibiting some very beautiful frag- 
 ments of silk and satin, pieces of dresses in 
 preparation of making for the tour to America. 
 Quite proper that a sister interested in the only 
 brother she had in the world, should be thus 
 intimate in her correspondence. Hester had 
 liked it, and praised her for it. Was my wife's 
 usual acute sense of right and wrong at fault ? 
 I had surprised her two or three times studying 
 the Frenchman's face, and once or twice she 
 had gone off into a reverie while talking of him. 
 Did she have forebodings, and yet decline to 
 speak of them, seeing Dolly so very, very happy, 
 so thoroughly in love with her hero ? 
 
 " It is like the atmosphere of fairy-land," she 
 said to me on one occasion, " to sit where they 
 two are,, and look on now and then sometimes 
 to catch some beautiful ray of love-light. It is 
 idyllic. Who could predict any thing but hap- 
 piness ? " 
 
 Meantime my sisters had each had their say. 
 To one and all, the Frenchman was distasteful : 
 they didn't like foreigners ; they didn't want 
 Dolly carried off from the home of her kindred, 
 and treated nobody knew how. They usually 
 made prim little calls on us when they came to
 
 148 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 the city, very seldom remaining over a day. But 
 they came often, as they were getting ready for 
 my sister Belle's marriage ; and they were all 
 loud in their praises of Hester's house-keeping. 
 It hurt Dolly that her sisters seemed to have 
 taken so decided a dislike to her lover, but only 
 made her cling to him the closer. 
 
 Should I at once confide in Hester ? My good 
 genius said " Yes ; " but my natural tendency 
 to defer all matters that were not pleasant to 
 some other day, triumphed this time. I placed 
 the tablet in my pocket, fully intending to speak 
 to Hester soon.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 149 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " A happy thought, a sweet surprise, 
 Glad words, and gladder kisses." 
 
 TO find Hester in a storm of angry tears, al- 
 most in hysterics, in fact, was an episode in 
 my married life for which I was not prepared. 
 
 " Go down to tea without me : I am too thor- 
 oughly vexed to eat or drink for a week to come," 
 she said, rising as she spoke, and dabbing her 
 eyes with an expensive bit of flabby muslin. 
 
 " Why, Hester, what have I done ? " I asked 
 in mild consternation. 
 
 "Nothing only committed the unpardon- 
 able offence of being a man ! " was her rather 
 irascible and unreasonable answer. "I have 
 been over to Mrs. Tracy's, that's all. It's just 
 abominable, the way that poor woman is being 
 killed by inches ! I really think her husband 
 ought to be arrested for murder." 
 
 "My dear! are you not rash in your asser- 
 tion ? " I asked. 
 
 " No ! to marry a woman, and then torture
 
 I5O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 her, is a crime against God and man. If you 
 had seen that poor heart-broken creature ! And 
 yet she could smile. ' It is all over now/ she 
 said, ' and I am glad.' Do you believe she will 
 die ? " 
 
 " Is she in bed ? " 
 
 " No ; moving about the house, her cheeks 
 like roses ; but yet in her eyes there is a look 
 of death. I wish she was more assertive. I'd 
 like to see the man / would die for ! " with a 
 vindictive little glare and another dab. "It 
 seems she found something a letter, I think 
 from that woman that creature ! the vile 
 thing ! she ought to be torn in pieces." , 
 
 " But what can I do ? " 
 
 " Don't let him sing those holy words Sunday 
 after Sunday. It is blasphemy in the sight of 
 Heaven. 
 
 "Yes," I said, "it is blasphemy; but what 
 shall we do about the service ? " 
 
 " Let the service go. Get the Sunday-school 
 children in the choir, and send that woman off. 
 I'll play the organ till you can get somebody 
 else." " 
 
 " Is not that going to extremes ? " 
 
 "No: it is simple justice. Mercy under such 
 circumstances is criminal : forbearance is no 
 longer a virtue. I cannot hear that man sing 
 again."
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 151 
 
 " I will see about it to-night," I said. " Bathe 
 your eyes, and come down to tea: don't visit 
 your wrath upon my poor unprotected head." 
 
 " No, indeed ! Thank God that he has given 
 me a true heart that has no vile secrets to hide ! " 
 And she shed the last tears on my bosom, held 
 close to my heart. Then we went down-stairs 
 together, she little thinking that I had withheld 
 a secret from her. 
 
 Mr. Ravaillac was there. Perhaps my greet- 
 ing was constrained. He looked at me keenly, 
 then silently backed to a seat near Dolly, who 
 was knitting. We were all rather moody at 
 the ' tea-table. I had a miserable task before 
 me : Ravaillac was quieter than his wont, Dolly 
 abstracted. 
 
 As usual on that evening, the choir practised ; 
 and, as usual, the tenor and the organist were 
 the last to leave. I heard them talking together 
 in low .tones, but yet could not bring myself to 
 determine in what manner to broach the subject. 
 Still, what my wife had said rung in my ears, 
 " Don't let him sing those holy words Sunday 
 after Sunday," and I could not longer brook 
 the seeming inconsistency. I had become al- 
 most morbidly nervous by reason of the con- 
 stant allusions of my friends to this matter. 
 What train of circumstances my plain talk might 
 disclose, I could not conjecture ; but I was pow-
 
 152 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 erless to prevent it, for my own conscience sec- 
 onded the decision that Hester wished me to 
 make. 
 
 Presently I heard steps coming towards the 
 study. 
 
 Another moment, and tall, handsome Tom 
 Tracy stood before me, a paper in his hand. 
 
 " I just wanted you to run your eye over this," 
 he said quietly, as he placed the paper before 
 me. It was a list of the anthems, hymns, and 
 Te Deum to be sung at Christmas. 
 
 " I shall take it to ' The Daily News ' on my 
 way to the office to-morrow," he said, as I re- 
 folded and handed it to him. " It will probably 
 be out in Saturday-night's paper. That will 
 be time enough, as Christmas comes this year 
 on Sunday." 
 
 " You will sing the new Te Dettm, I suppose," 
 I said, with a view to detaining him ; " that is, 
 z/you sing." 
 
 " If I sing ! why, of course I shall sing ! " he 
 said. 
 
 " I don't know, after what I have to say to 
 you," was my reply. 
 
 "I hope it is nothing very serious," he re- 
 marked, with his soft, sweet smile ; but it 
 seemed to me that a harder look came into his 
 face. 
 
 " Simply this, Mr. Tracy, that this flirtation
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 153 
 
 with Mrs. Stanley has gone too far, if indeed it 
 is nothing more than what that mild word sig- 
 nifies. Several of the wardens have spoken to 
 me ; your wife herself is in a most pitiable con- 
 dition ; and, seriously, I must request that in 
 some effectual way the thing be disposed of 
 before you both lose your good name with the 
 public. Believe me, I speak as a friend. I do 
 not want you to become my enemy." 
 
 "Then, why do you try to make me your 
 enemy ? " Tom Tracy asked, lifting his square 
 shoulders haughtily, and looking me defiantly 
 in the face, while an angry red glowed on each 
 cheek. "There was a time when people said 
 the young minister was flirting with the cousin 
 of his destined wife. I myself knew of your 
 going there six evenings out of the seven. 
 Those who live in glass houses had better not 
 throw stones. I fancy you did not tell your 
 wife of that brief infatuation. Oh ! I know all 
 about it, reverend sir more, perhaps, than 
 you think." 
 
 I rose from my seat, angry and white ; for I 
 felt the blood rush back upon my heart. 
 
 " My wife left her cousin in my care," I said; 
 "but I shall not notice your contemptible speech. 
 You are a married man : Mrs. Stanley is a mar- 
 ried woman. You say her husband is cruel to 
 her : have you no pity for your wife, whose 
 heart you are slowly breaking ? "
 
 154 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Tilly must have confidence in me : she 
 knows better," he said sullenly. " If she has 
 a mind to distrust me, and allows her absurd 
 jealousy to master her, she must. I swear I 
 won't humble myself ! " 
 
 " Is Mrs. Stanley waiting for you ? " I asked. 
 
 " Mrs. Stanley is probably waiting for me," 
 he said, after a slight pause. 
 
 " Let her wait in vain," I said, touching his 
 sleeve with my finger. "Let me plead with 
 you, as a minister of God, to go home to your 
 wife, and let her go home to her husband alone. 
 She is not one of the timid sort, believe me; 
 she is not afraid ; it is customary with women 
 who support themselves. Think how much 
 happiness you will give your wife! It would 
 hurt you to look into a new-made grave." 
 
 That he was touched, I knew by a certain 
 movement of the lip, a contraction of the brow. 
 I followed up my advantage till I thought he 
 would listen to me. 
 
 "Perhaps," he said in a low voice, "I may 
 excuse myself ; " and with that I had to be con- 
 tent. I could not play the spy, but Jenkins 
 did. He had -not, it seems, been far away 
 during the whole interview, and so came to me 
 ten minutes after Tom had gone, and in a stage- 
 whisper, putting his gaunt face and long ears 
 in at the door, said,
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 155 
 
 "Muster Tracy seen her home! got into 
 the car himself, and went past Tolman Square." 
 
 Tolman Square was where Tom Tracy lived, 
 where his wife was slowly dying ; and I had 
 doubtless made him my pitiless enemy. 
 
 Christmas Day came. Never had the church 
 looked more beautiful : never had the sunshine 
 seemed more glorious as it sifted through the 
 stained windows, and painted the walls and the 
 ceilings with the master hand of an artist who 
 never makes mistakes in outline or coloring. 
 
 The bell rang, tolled : no sound from the 
 silent organ, no face above the choir-curtains ! 
 
 Christmas Day, and no service of song ! My 
 hand trembled as I turned the pages of the 
 hymnal, and my heart sank within me. My 
 cowardly tenor had deserted me without a word 
 of warning ; though doubtless many had been 
 drawn by the advertisement in the evening 
 paper, to hear the new and celebrated Te Deum. 
 Never had the old church been so filled : every- 
 where the faces of my people, everywhere the 
 faces of strangers, mixed and mingled. There 
 was a surfeit of color ; every countenance shone 
 in the reflected light ; even Mrs. Dickory and 
 her three ill-favored children contrived to look 
 a little like saints on that glorious day : but 
 what should I do without the Christmas service 
 of song ?
 
 156 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 Suddenly I heard a subdued murmuring, and 
 then a rustle as of angel's wings. Presently a 
 low, sweet solo stole from the organ through 
 the quiet, and then some pure harmonies, that 
 fell on the hush, and on my perturbed spirit, 
 like voices from the celestial land. 
 
 A paper was sent up to me, which I read 
 under cover of my book. 
 
 " Go on just the same : we will chant the Te Deum. 
 Dolly will sing 'Angels ever bright' at the offertory. We 
 have it all arranged." HESTER." 
 
 My trembling soul took courage. I felt like 
 a bird just escaped from the snare of the fowler, 
 and stood erect once more, freed from the bur- 
 den that had well-nigh conquered me. Then 
 sounded the clear, well-trained voices of the 
 children, thirty of them ; and a look of surprise, 
 blended with pleasure, passed from face to face. 
 All the chants, the Gloria, the Te Deum, passed 
 off in succession with perfect toning and excep- 
 tional harmony. Then at the close came Dolly's 
 beautiful soprano voice, faultless and unfalter- 
 ing, in "Angels ever bright and fair." The 
 service of song was a triumph. One after an- 
 other of my parishioners came forward at the 
 close. " What a surprise you have given us ! 
 what a charming service ! Whose was that 
 birdlike voice in the solo ? How can we thank 
 you enough ? "
 
 Hester was radiant. 
 
 " Well ! " she exclaimed breathlessly, as I met 
 her in the parlor. For answer I caught her to 
 my heart. 
 
 " Dolly and I talked it over," said Hester, 
 after she had blushingly disentangled her curls 
 from one of my coat-buttons. "I was afraid 
 Tracy would play you that trick. As the 
 Quakers say, it was borne in upon me ; so, fear- 
 ful that you might be left in the lurch, Dolly 
 and I called upon some of our best singers in 
 the Sunday school, and we have been practising 
 ever since, at the house of Mayor Proctor." 
 
 " But you might have told me," I said. 
 
 "If we had been sure but of course we had 
 no hint of how matters stood. It was simply 
 my prescience, or whatever you might call it. 
 We all met together in the parsonage after the 
 ringing of the bell, and Jenkins came in from 
 time to time to report progress. Then, as the 
 bell tolled, and still they came not, we forthwith 
 proceeded to action. How did you like my vol- 
 untary ? " 
 
 " Coming, as it did, on that terrible blank of 
 expectation, it was .simply delicious," I said, 
 " I grew to the stature of a man at once. Be- 
 fore that, I was not conscious of any thing but 
 a stinging defeat, and a curious sense of having 
 brought it upon myself. And then the sweet
 
 158 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 voices of the children ! Truly it was a fitting 
 service of song for the beautiful Christmas." 
 
 "I have another surprise," said Hester; and, 
 throwing open the folding-doors, there were my 
 sisters, her parents, Miriam, and the children 
 who had so lightened the labors of the holy day. 
 
 Dinner was a feast of good things, and a hap- 
 pier company never gathered together under 
 the roof of the rectory. Still, if I must confess 
 it, my pleasure was strangely marred by the 
 proximity of Miriam, who was seated at my left 
 hand. Why should she be a disturbing pres- 
 ence ? but it was always so. 
 
 " Did you notice the tenor ? " asked Hester, 
 when we talked it over. 
 
 " I heard one of the sweetest of tenor voices, 
 but cannot imagine whose it was," I said. 
 
 " Mr. Ravaillac helped us," was Hester's re- 
 joinder. "Indeed, we have been greatly in- 
 debted to him all the way through." 
 
 " Why is he not here ? " I asked. " I should 
 like to thank him." 
 
 " He had a cablegram from his sister : it was 
 brought into church just after service," said 
 Hester. " He would not tell us what it was, 
 but looked very much agitated, and said he 
 must go to his boarding-house at once. I hope 
 nothing has happened." 
 
 "Oh!"
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 159 
 
 I was mentally reading a line from the little 
 block Jenkins had found. 
 
 " / make them, and like puppets I move them. 
 They live and die at my command." 
 
 " But he might have helped us eat our Christ- 
 mas dinner ! " 
 
 " Lucky for you, my dear, that I could spare 
 my cook. You never would have hired a woman 
 that could brown a turkey like that, could she, 
 professor ? " 
 
 " It was a perfect success," said the professor, 
 folding his napkin.
 
 I6O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " Of all sad bridals, that was saddest : 
 Of all sad brides, the saddest she." 
 
 TRACY was lost to us. In less than a 
 1. month he was the leader of another choir 
 where Mrs. Stanley played the organ. People 
 cried " Shame ! " and then perhaps forgot it, 
 but we were denied that consolation. His wife 
 was a member of my church, as was also her 
 daughter. 
 
 One day, a week after Christmas, I was called 
 for, to go to Mrs. Tracy The messenger was 
 her own servant, whose eyes were red with 
 weeping. 
 
 " Is your mistress worse ? " I asked. 
 
 "I don't know, sir; but it's a wedding cere- 
 mony they want, I believe. Miss Tracy is 
 going to be married." 
 
 " Certainly she is going to be married," said 
 Hester ; "but I have heard them say Repeatedly, 
 that the ceremony was to be in the church. 
 You know she has a splendid outfit, and her 
 wedding-dress is a miracle of lace and embroid-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFF. l6l 
 
 ery. Mrs. Tracy showed it to me the last time 
 I was there. They have been taking great 
 pains with the invitations. It must be a mis- 
 take of the maid." 
 
 " You will go with me," I said ; and Hester, 
 laughing at my anxious face, ran to get her 
 wraps. 
 
 " Oh, I am chilly ! " said Hester, shuddering, 
 as we neared the door. " Look for me : is the 
 handle craped ? " 
 
 I assured her there was nothing on the door. 
 
 "I seemed to see it," she said, drawing a 
 long breath, then grasped my arm more tightly. 
 The door was opened by a strange woman. 
 
 "You will go up-stairs," she said solemnly. 
 The atmosphere was stifling. I felt myself be- 
 ginning to tremble with some vague fear. The 
 door to the right was open : it led into Mrs. 
 Tracy's room. We heard hasty footsteps, and 
 saw the., flitting of a white-draped figure : we 
 heard heavy sobs. 
 
 There was but a moment between that and 
 the sight of Mrs. Tracy breathing heavily on 
 her great white bed. Tom stood at the head, 
 and she had grasped and now held his hand con- 
 vulsively. Sometimes she held it up to her pil- 
 low, and pressed her cheek against it. 
 
 " Don't worry, dear : I am very glad," she said, 
 looking up into his cold, handsome face, with a
 
 1 62 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 glance that could not be described, yearning, 
 pitiful, wistful, as if to call his very soul to ac- 
 count, hear his confession, and forgive. 
 
 Presently the women at the door-way made a 
 movement, and in their midst stood Marie in 
 her bridal robes ; Charley Orowin, her betrothed, 
 also in his bridal suit, closely following. 
 
 The girl was now composed, but her face was 
 all stained with her sorrow. Tom never lifted 
 his eyes. They were fastened to the face of 
 the wife he had wronged. 
 
 " I swear I will not humble myself," seemed 
 written on every line of his countenance. 
 
 "Come, Marie, darling," said the dying wo- 
 man ; " and, O Charley ! before I give her to 
 you, promise me I won't ask you to swear 
 it that you will be true to her as long as she 
 lives." 
 
 " I do solemnly promise," he said in a low 
 voice, broken by emotion. 
 
 "Every thing is ready," said the dying wo- 
 man, turning her eyes upon me ; and, at a ges- 
 ture, I read the marriage service. 
 
 The scene was a picture too painful for por- 
 trayal. When all was over, there was utter 
 silence ; but on the face of the mother came a 
 smile that seemed to transfigure the whole 
 countenance. I never saw any thing so beauti- 
 ful, in all my experiences of death-beds.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 163 
 
 " Dear, dear Tom ! it's all right now. Don't 
 mind what I said last night : I didn't want to 
 go then. I shall never forget what you have 
 been to me since you took me out of school, 
 a simple child of fifteen. You were father, 
 brother, every thing; and I thank you, I bless 
 you ! " 
 
 He threw himself on his knees, his head 
 buried in the pillow, within reach of her hand ; 
 and she let her fingers stray through the shin- 
 ing locks, gazing on them with a dying pride. 
 
 Was the man not yet willing to humble him- 
 self, when it was brought home to him at last 
 that he had broken her heart ? 
 
 She turned to me with a smile, then looked 
 at him, then at me. It was a mute question, 
 and I understood it ; but he had put himself 
 beyond my help. Standing there, I loathed 
 the sight of him as a Christian man shoufd 
 not. 
 
 After I had ministered according to the rules 
 of the Church, and spoken a few words of com- 
 fort, I left the room. Passing the parlor, down- 
 stairs, I caught sight of a long, shining train, 
 and then of the new bride weeping on the 
 breast of the new husband. 
 
 Sad beginning of bridal happiness ! 
 
 We were going by, when the groom called 
 my wife.
 
 164 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Can you think of any thing to comfort 
 her?" he asked, as Marie lifted her face from 
 his shoulder. 
 
 " No, Charley ; nobody can comfort me ; don't 
 ask her : she knows the cause of it all ; " 
 and again she fell, almost fainting, into her hus- 
 band's arms. It was a terrible lesson to him, 
 needed or not. 
 
 Presently she lifted her white face. 
 
 "I wouldn't believe it," she said; "but the 
 doctor says she has been dying for days think 
 of it ! for days ! and knowing it all the time." 
 
 " She will be happier, dear," said Hester. 
 
 " I don't know," she retorted, almost fiercely : 
 "perhaps the torture will follow her. It was 
 more idolatry than love. Father has been her 
 God and mine too," she added bitterly, "till 
 now. Now" and she clinched her hands 
 "I hate him!" 
 
 " Hush, dear," said her husband gently. 
 
 She turned upon him such a look, as she 
 said, 
 
 " He has murdered my mother ! " 
 
 We took our leave, for the scene was too 
 painful. 
 
 " Did you see that picture was gone from the 
 bracket ? " Hester asked. 
 
 " What picture ? " 
 
 " Of that Mrs. Stanley ! I can imagine poor
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 165 
 
 little Marie snatching it from its place, and 
 grinding it to pieces under her feet. I would ! " 
 
 " My dear Hester ! it seems to me that the 
 presence of death ought to dispel all these bale- 
 ful human passions," I said. 
 
 She looked up at me. 
 
 "Do you feel so very much like an angel?" 
 she asked. 
 
 " Not exactly," I was forced to reply, with a 
 laugh ; for her inimitable expression provoked 
 it. 
 
 " If you did, I should consider you a sort of 
 monster," Hester went on. " Here is that 
 woman dying, and she may be only one of 
 many, when one word from her husband, 
 spoken in time, would have saved a beautiful 
 human soul, and a home such as few men have. 
 And he knows it! I don't wonder his child 
 hates him. O Hal ! you poor boy ! I never 
 realized before, how many miserable things you 
 are called to see. I mean to be such a good, 
 helpful wife to you ! " 
 
 " You are all I could ask." She hugged my 
 arm, and I thought I heard a sob. 
 
 Early in the morning Mrs. Tracy's girl came 
 round. We all knew what that meant. 
 
 " She died so sweetly, though she wandered, 
 miss, toward the last." We heard of that after- 
 wards.
 
 1 66 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Tom, dear, don't put her shawl on ! don't 
 look at her so ! If you knew the pain that 
 comes at my heart just like a dagger thrust 
 in and in ! " 
 
 " And so until the very last," a neighbor said. 
 
 Thus endeth this short, sad record. How 
 many husbands whose eyes chance to read these 
 pages would dare invoke such dying pangs ? 
 
 Did he change ? I met him a few weeks 
 after. He was as cold, as handsome, as grace- 
 ful as ever. He did not have the audacity to 
 bow to me. 
 
 They say he talks of " Tilly " sometimes, 
 sometimes says he misses her. 
 
 That is all. Mrs. Stanley has procured her 
 divorce. 
 
 What next ?
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. l6/ 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " So skilfully her woes proclaimed, 
 You could not see her tears, and keep your purse." 
 
 natural limit of mankind lies between a 
 cradle and a grave." 
 
 " Please don't sermonize," said Hester, look- 
 ing up from her sewing. 
 
 " I only want to convince your father, my 
 dear," was my reply. 
 
 " But his hair is gray ; and, after all, what does 
 it signify what men believe, if they live right ? " 
 
 " There ! " said the old professor triumph- 
 antly : " my girl hasn't forgotten her old train- 
 ing, if she did marry a minister ! " 
 
 "But I contend that it does signify," I re- 
 torted. 
 
 " Rousseau, about the middle of the last cen- 
 tury (1764), ushered in what is known as the 
 Sentimental Philosophy ; i.e., that human na- 
 ture is perfectly good from the start. Bad 
 systems of education, alone, were answerable 
 for bad government and bad communities.
 
 1 68 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 "One of Rousseau's books elaborates this 
 idea, as you know, on the plan of perfect seclu- 
 sion from outside influence, either of established 
 customs, forms of conduct, current opinions, or 
 recognized creeds of religion. Sweep these all 
 aside, and let pure nature assert itself amid 
 merely pleasant and agreeable surroundings, 
 and this would bring a millennium of natural 
 goodness that would captivate the world." 
 
 " Yes : I like the old fellow," said the pro- 
 fessor, stroking his white beard. "Think he 
 was right, too, in a degree." 
 
 "But, my dear father, this was the prolific 
 philosophy of France amid the horrors of the 
 French Revolution, a philosophy that nursed 
 the idea of evil as a necessary outgrowth of prev- 
 alent opinions and institutions, a philosophy 
 that lauded the high character of human nature 
 for itself alone, that made its own religion, in 
 which mankind was the chief deity to be 
 worshipped, in which all divisions of race, 
 class-interest, language, climate, association, 
 disappeared, and one scheme of universal love 
 embraced all mankind, as one people under one 
 law. Such a philosophy was capable of insti- 
 tuting a reign of terror by exciting the worst 
 elements of society into war against the inva- 
 ders of their common rights, who guided the na- 
 tion, and fostered those symptoms of religion
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 169 
 
 and education which moulded and influenced 
 the rising generation of the land. 
 
 " Such a philosophy," I continued, not allow- 
 ing the professor to interrupt, while Hester held 
 up both hands in mock supplication, " has been 
 the prolific mother of the dreaded Commune, 
 and the more stubborn children of Nihilism. It 
 is the patron of the dynamite fiend. Take away 
 from life its safeguard of discipline and order, its 
 sufferings and its sorrows, its struggles and its 
 labors, and nature would sink into ruin and dev- 
 astation. Somebody says, 'That which keeps 
 men patient under the evil of this present state 
 of things, is the idea of their necessity, the no- 
 tion, indistinct, but still real in their minds, that 
 injustice and disorder are fundamental in this 
 visible system of our life. We must be made 
 perfect through suffering." 
 
 " Please keep your exhortations for the chan- 
 cel," said Hester, laughing and frowning. "You 
 can't make me believe that poor Mrs. Tracy was 
 destined to surfer in the way she did, from all 
 eternity." 
 
 " That involves another view -of the case," 
 said I, as the door opened. 
 
 "O Mr. Ravaillac!" cried Hester, "I'm so 
 thankful you have come ! You have saved us 
 from a twenty-minutes' sermon." 
 
 The professor arose, made a formal bow, pro-
 
 I/O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 tested he had finished his pipe, and left the 
 house. He had just come over to ask Hester 
 to call at her old home that evening, as her 
 mother was not feeling well ; and he did not 
 like monsieur. 
 
 Ravaillac always seemed to bring with him a 
 wave from some superior region, where people 
 never did ordinary work, or thought ordinary, 
 thoughts. Trim, elegant, modest, he was the 
 picture of a modern Apollo, faultlessly dressed. 
 His ardent, sanguine temperament always gave 
 one the impression that he was at peace with 
 himself and all the world. 
 
 For some reason, no doubt, the little tablet 
 that I had locked in my study sufficiently ex- 
 plained it, I had felt towards him, since read- 
 ing them, an instinctive antagonism ; and he 
 knew it. I could see, by the rapid side-glances 
 he cast towards me now and then, that he was 
 aware of the change in my feelings ; but there 
 he stood, handsome, and smiling around at us 
 all. 
 
 Presently the door opened ; and Dolly's radi- 
 ant face, framed in some creamy lace-work, 
 or it might be wool, broke in upon the silence. 
 How transcendently beautiful she looked, in her 
 pretty opera-wraps ! I could not fail to perceive 
 that the glance with which he turned to her was 
 genuine worship. Was I allowing this thing to
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. I /I 
 
 go too far ? I watched him dexterously unfold- 
 ing her fleecy shawl, so that its texture might 
 catch the warmth of the fire before he placed it 
 over her shoulders. And her face ! was it not 
 an index of a rare, true love ? 
 
 " Very strange," I said, when they had gone, 
 and Hester and I had the cosey room all to our- 
 selves, "that fellow does not get his references 
 from Paris. It is now three months, and he has 
 done nothing but promise." 
 
 "That fellow!" exclaimed Hester with em- 
 phasis, looking her surprise. 
 
 "Well, candidly, I do not like his dilly-dally- 
 ing with serious matters. He tells a tolerably 
 straight story, but how are we to know ? It 
 would be foolish indeed to rely upon his mere 
 say-so." 
 
 "Perhaps," said Hester thoughtfully; "and 
 yet there is such an air of sincerity in all he 
 does and says, that I can't for the life of me 
 persist in doubting him." 
 
 " Persist ! " 
 
 "Well, I have had my doubts," Hester went 
 on, smiling to herself ; " but it seems to me 
 Nature has set her sign-manual on him as a 
 prince. He certainly has a splendid position. 
 Mr. Whitby trusts him with the most intricate 
 matters of business, and is really going to send 
 him to Paris on his wedding-trip."
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " His wedding-trip ! Good Heavens ! what is 
 Dolly thinking of ? Is the time set ? " 
 
 " Why, not that I know of," said Hester. " I 
 mean, whenever it is to be, of course. I think 
 they are not yet engaged. Dolly has told him 
 that he must come to you." 
 
 " I am glad Dolly is so sensible," I said, draw- 
 ing a long breath. " Yes, yes that will be 
 time enough." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " Hester asked. 
 
 "I mean, to speak plainly about his refer- 
 ences, and his means for insuring Dolly a 
 home." 
 
 " Oh ! there's not the shadow of a doubt on 
 that score," said Hester. "He can stay with 
 the Whitbys forever. Indeed, I think they 
 would have been glad enough to secure him for 
 Fanny Whitby, if he would only have waited 
 till the child was older. Fanny is but fifteen. 
 I never dreamed of his falling in love with 
 Dolly." 
 
 " But sometimes these great business-houses 
 fail, you know." 
 
 " Oh ! there are plenty who want him. In 
 fact, he is invaluable as an assistant and trans- 
 lator, and need never be out of business. Be- 
 sides, he has splendid expectations ; and I have 
 seen the letters sent by his lawyers, in which 
 they say he is sure to win his case."
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 1/3 
 
 "What case?" 
 
 " Hasn't Dolly told you ? Why, some of the 
 estates, confiscated in the late war, are to be 
 restored to his family. Oh, yes ! I am French 
 scholar enough to translate fairly, and it is very 
 plain that he is to be compensated at the rate 
 of a round million. It seems as if Dolly must 
 be pretty safe in the matter of provision for her 
 future. And then, he certainly is a lovable 
 fellow ! As for Dolly, you can see for yourself, 
 she worships him as much as he worships her." 
 
 " Yes, and so much the worse if he be proved 
 a scoundrel," I said. 
 
 " Why do you talk that way ? what have you 
 heard ? " asked Hester anxiously. 
 
 " Nothing, upon my honor : no one has spoken 
 a word to his disadvantage. On the contrary, 
 everybody speaks in his praise. But I want 
 stronger proof than his mere assertion. I can- 
 not give my sister's happiness in the keeping 
 of a stranger, and that stranger a foreigner, 
 unless I have something more decisive. What 
 about his sister ? " I asked. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! he is very much worried. 
 Since her fall from her horse, she has been con- 
 fined to her bed ; and the last news was, that 
 her life was in danger." 
 
 "He seems going to the opera pretty lively for 
 a man whose only sister may be dying," I said.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 Hester paused. 
 
 " I think this must have been an engagement 
 made some time ago," she said. " Besides, he 
 don't know but she may be out of danger. Why 
 should he spoil Dolly's pleasure ? " 
 
 "Why, indeed?" and there the matter 
 dropped where it should not. It was on my 
 tongue to speak of the tablet, even to display 
 it to my wife, and set her keen, quick intel- 
 lect on the scent ; but a strange perversity con- 
 trolled me. I knew it would be safe, a proof of 
 my trust in her, a pleasure to be of any assist- 
 ance to me ; and yet I shrank from taking her 
 into my confidence. 
 
 Still, the matter nettled me ; and the man, 
 while he attracted, at the same time repelled 
 me. What were all his accomplishments if no 
 truth dwelt on his tongue ? How could I trust 
 Dolly to a man who could willingly invent a 
 story to lie and deceive ? And that Dolly loved 
 him with all the strength of her young, pure 
 heart, I knew. My doubts angered her : she 
 defended him against all accusations. 
 
 "And now I- am going over to mother's," 
 said Hester, rising. 
 
 I rose too. 
 
 " No, Hal : sit down. You seldom have a 
 quiet evening to yourself, and Jenkins is doing 
 nothing but nodding at the kitchen-fire. I will 
 take him."
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 1/5 
 
 " But really, don't you care ? " I queried. 
 
 " Not a bit. You can't probably see mother ; 
 very likely Miriam is with her, and wouldn't go 
 down-stairs ; and you'd have nobody to talk to. 
 So sit down, and be a good boy till I come 
 back." 
 
 She looked laughingly over her shoulder at 
 me as she started for her wraps ; and presently 
 she came to kiss me good-by, fully equipped. 
 
 " There goes that horrible bell again ! Why 
 won't they let you have a little peace of your 
 life ! It does seem as if your evenings ought to 
 belong to you ! " Hester exclaimed. 
 
 Jenkins opened the door, ushering in a young 
 lady, dressed in the height of fashion. Her 
 bold, bright black eyes sparkled at sight of me. 
 
 " Well ! it is really delightful to find one cler- 
 gyman at home ! " she said, with a lovely smile, 
 that displayed fine, even white teeth. 
 
 "Pray IDC seated, miss," I said. "Hester, I 
 will see you to the door, and call for you in half 
 an hour." 
 
 I went out with my wife. 
 
 " Hal," she whispered, " I never saw such an 
 impudent face in my life ! Beware of her." 
 
 " I promise she shall not carry me off bodily," 
 was my reply, laughing. 
 
 " Oh ! I'm not afraid of that ; she don't want 
 you; she's after your pocket-book," Hester said.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " I didn't count upon it, but perhaps you might 
 as well come for me ; " and she was gone. 
 
 I went back to my strange visitor. 
 
 "Ah! this looks so like my own old home," 
 she said, as I found her comfortably seated op- 
 posite the fire. " My poor papa was a clergy- 
 man. You have heard of Dean McKatheron ? " 
 
 " Indeed I have ! Was he your father ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes ; he died five years ago : and the Rev. 
 Mr. McKatheron, rector of All Souls, is my own 
 cousin. I went to his house at first, but found 
 him away with his family." 
 
 I knew that the Rev. Mr. McKatheron had 
 gone abroad. Never stopped to wonder why 
 she had not been made aware of his absence. 
 
 " And then I called on the rector of the As- 
 cension, but he and his wife had gone to visit a 
 parishioner out of town. Oh, dear ! and I was 
 so tired ! Do you believe, I went the rounds of 
 all the clergymen before I came here ? I never 
 dreamed I should find you at home." 
 
 She took a dainty lace kerchief out of her 
 reticule, and a subtle odor was wafted through 
 the room. I am very sensitive in the matter 
 of perfumes, but this fragrance seemed a part 
 of her aristocratic presence. 
 
 " Oh ! I suppose I must tell you my story," 
 she continued. " It is so stupid well, so com-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 1 77 
 
 monplace, to have a story to tell ! but really, I 
 think you will pardon me. I came here, not in- 
 tending to stay more than a few days, and only 
 brought a hundred dollars with me. How I 
 lost the money, whether it was taken out of my 
 pocket, or I left it in the car, I am totally un- 
 able to tell. I think, however, my pocket was 
 picked ; for, when I went to pay the coachman, 
 my purse was gone. It's very humiliating to 
 have to go to a hotel without money ; so I hur- 
 ried to my cousin's house, to find it shut up. I 
 thought if I could borrow fifty dollars, or even 
 twenty, to pay my hotel-bills and my fare back 
 I don't know what I shall do if I can't." 
 
 She crossed her delicately kidded hands on 
 her knees. The firelight brought out the curves 
 and tints of a very beautiful face ; but the small 
 red lips began to tremble, and I saw the tears 
 gather in her eyes. 
 
 " You will have to stay at the hotel to-night, 
 I suppose," I said. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! and I forgot to say that I can leave 
 security," she added, suddenly starting from her 
 pose of deep dejection. " I have my diamond 
 ring with me, the last gift of my dear father. 
 I should insist upon leaving it." 
 
 "No, indeed! If I had the money," I fal- 
 tered, having before me the memory of the score 
 of times I had been made the victim of merce-
 
 1/8 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 nary callers, "you should have it in a moment. 
 But I think " I took a small roll of bills from 
 my pocket. It amounted to just nine dollars 
 and fifty cents. 
 
 " I really don't know," I said, pondering the 
 matter as I held the money in my hands. " I " 
 
 " O sir ! " and the small figure drew up, while 
 a proud gesture and a sad, resigned expression 
 stole over the perfect face. " I see that you 
 doubt me, sir, and I cannot bear that. Keep 
 your money, sir, for what you may consider a 
 worthier object. I do not ask charity : I simply 
 wanted a loan ! Pray excuse me for this intru- 
 sion. I will go elsewhere. I could not allow 
 you to assist me now." 
 
 That settled it. If the reader should happen 
 to be a man, and had been in my place, it would 
 have settled him. If Hester had been there, 
 she would have screwed her courage up, and 
 let her go. 
 
 " I beg you will allow me to loan you this," I 
 said. " I only hesitated as the sum was to be 
 applied to a particular object, but I shall make 
 it up immediately. Pray, miss, oblige me by 
 borrowing this trifling sum. I only wish it were 
 more." 
 
 My beautiful visitor flushed, hesitated, bit 
 her lip, and, after a pretty bit of hesitancy, 
 condescended to retract. She looked at the
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 1 79 
 
 money, and gently drew off her glove. A dia- 
 mond solitaire sparkled on one of her slender 
 fingers. 
 
 " Indeed, I cannot consent to this," I said, as 
 she held it out. 
 
 "And I will not take the money without 
 leaving my pledge," she answered, with her 
 very bright smile. "So there it is." 
 
 Absolutely, I never felt so mean in my 
 life. Here was the daughter of a prominent 
 clergyman, whose death had been so sincerely 
 mourned, leaving his gift with me as if I had 
 been a pawnbroker. But what could I do ? She 
 persisted, until at last I was forced to relent. 
 
 " Oh, you can't realize how good you have 
 been to me ! " she said, with her beaming smile. 
 " Think if I had gone to a hotel, how terrible it 
 would have been to be denied admission ! And, 
 of course, they don't know me ; and cousin 
 John, my only living relative in the city, not 
 here to testify for me. I really do not know 
 how to thank you." 
 
 She bowed herself out of the room with an 
 exquisite air of refinement, leaving the vision 
 of a perfect face in sunshine and in shade, to 
 haunt me. 
 
 " Had I been wise, or foolish ? " 
 
 Hester came home just as I was about to 
 start for her.
 
 ISO TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 "Poor mamma was asleep, so I did not stay," 
 she said. " Now, what of your visitor ? She 
 certainly was pretty, but dreadfully brazen. 
 What did you give her?" 
 
 " I gave her nothing, my dear." 
 
 " Oh ! I am glad you are beginning to find" 
 
 " But I lent her a small sum," and I felt my 
 cheeks burn. " It was ridiculously small for 
 the equivalent she would insist upon my taking. 
 See this ! " 
 
 " Oh ! a diamond ! " exclaimed my wife. 
 
 She took it. I grew in stature and wisdom at 
 once. She carried it under the light turned 
 it round smiled. 
 
 "Well, madam, what do you think now?" I 
 asked triumphantly. 
 
 " I think you are an awful goose ! " said Hes- 
 ter, bursting into a laugh, "a dear, old, soft- 
 hearted goose ! But then, how could you know ? 
 Now, you have often laughed at what you call 
 my instinct. Why, Hal, dear, she wouldn't have 
 dared to give that ring into my fingers. See 
 here : it never cost fifty cents. Diamond ! ha, ha ! 
 it's a miserable piece of glass, though prettily 
 cut. Well, you /lavebzen duped ! You'll never 
 see her again." 
 
 I told her the whole story. 
 
 "If I had been here," she said, "that minx 
 would have gone as empty-handed as she came.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. l8l 
 
 I know my heart isn't as big as yours, but I've 
 got an awful bump of incredulity." 
 
 Later I found that Hester's decision was 
 correct. Out of the twenty clergymen in the 
 city, fifteen or sixteen had been duped by this 
 bogus daughter of a royal line. 
 
 " She enlisted my sympathies at once," said 
 the Rev. Doctor Cutler, a Methodist minister, 
 " by presenting herself as the niece of our late 
 lamented bishop. I lent her twenty dollars ; 
 and she left with me a valuable agate ring, she 
 said, and which, I suppose, is no more an agate 
 than yours is a diamond. She will probably 
 get out of the city in some disguise, and so 
 evade justice. No man should allow himself to 
 be taken by surprise ; but we clergymen, as a 
 rule, are shamefully easy to dupe. But then, 
 what can one do ? Must we steel our hearts to 
 every tale of suffering, or rate our charities ac- 
 cording to the personal charms of the recipients ? 
 I confess I don't know how to solve the prob- 
 lem." 
 
 Neither do I.
 
 1 82 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " And in her eyes was something strange, 
 A look as of another world." 
 
 THE warm June days had come, with glowing 
 sunshine and tender shadow. The peach- 
 trees in the rectory-yard were all abloom with 
 that fresh pink tinge that one sees only in the 
 heart of a living conch shell, and that trembles, 
 now into fainter, now into deeper, beauty, as the 
 outer light encircles it. 
 
 My cares seemed to accumulate as the warm 
 weather approached. The professor's wife, now 
 a helpless invalid, required the presence of Hes- 
 ter so often, that it was useless to think of 
 taking the customary vacation. My special and 
 particular bore, Mrs. Dickory, found it conven- 
 ient to make a great many calls. She had lately 
 become the mother of the eighth, as she proudly 
 called her last achievement in maternity, and 
 was correspondingly communicative and confi- 
 dential as to her family affairs. If the paternal 
 head of the house of Dickory volunteered ad-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 183 
 
 vice after the manner of tyrannical husbands 
 inclined to take a drop too much, she came to 
 me with the grievance. Her utter indifference 
 to my intimations that my time was too valu- 
 able to be taken up with such trivialities, broad- 
 ened the comedy of her confessions, until, when 
 I saw the flaming red or yellow or green of her 
 much ornamented head-gear, I involuntarily took 
 up either a book or my pen, and let her gabble 
 on, if I could not escape in time through the 
 back door. 
 
 " I'm goin' to bring my Dolce for baptiserm 
 nex' sabbath," she said one day : " but she's an 
 awful one to hold, an' she hates water like 
 pizen ; so if you'd please be kerful 'n not let 
 the drops run over her nose, which is her 
 sensitivest part, being as she has had a cold 
 ever sence being born, it will keep her more 
 quieter." 
 
 " What' did you say the name was ? " I asked, 
 forgetting myself, and looking up from my book. 
 
 " Dolce. Dickory called me a heathen : he 
 hain't got no imagination, nor what I call fine 
 feelin's. Fer a man as has lived with me now 
 goin' on fifteen years, well, I were married at 
 fourteen, so I'm not in my thirties yet, I must 
 say he is as destitute of idolatry as if he had 
 been in daily companionship with a woman as 
 thinks scrubbing is her only vocation, and what
 
 184 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 she were born to. You mightn't think it, but 
 I hcv writ poetry ; and, if my fambly was smaller, 
 I should contribute occasionally, I don't doubt." 
 
 " But where did you get the name ? " I asked, 
 much amused. Her husband's idolatry, which 
 she supposed to mean ideality, corresponded so 
 aptly to the terrible name she intended to fasten 
 on her helpless offspring, that it fixed itself in 
 my memory as a standing anecdote. 
 
 " Why, I've seen it in singing-books like this, 
 and in books of stories : " she handed me a slip 
 of paper, on which was written in a coarse hand, 
 " Dolce far niente" 
 
 "It kinder took my fancy," she said, "and I 
 do like originality : " this word she pronounced 
 with the g hard. "Only, I thought I would 
 change it a little, and call her Dolce Fanny Ni- 
 ente : the whole name kinder sounds so foreign- 
 like, and I'm tired of the usual stock." 
 
 " My good woman, that's no name at all," I 
 said : " it is merely suggestive of a person too 
 lazy to keep awake. You wouldn't subject 
 your child to such a burden. Everybody would 
 laugh. Call her Fanny, or Dora, or something 
 understandable, or else I can't baptize your 
 child." 
 
 "Then, I've got to give in to Dickory," she 
 said, looking meditative; "and it's what I've 
 never did yet. But I know how to git over that
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 185 
 
 you shall give it a name, and I'll be honored 
 and evermore obliged." 
 
 " No, no : I would not take the responsibility," 
 I said hastily. " Choose between you " 
 
 "I think you said Fanny or Dora," she re- 
 sponded complacently. " Don't you see you've 
 already done it ? I'll call her Fanny, and much 
 obliged, I'm sure." 
 
 "You may call her Methuselah, for all I 
 care," I said, feeling my long-suffering patience 
 oozing out at my finger's-ends, as I rose. " I've 
 got an appointment, and you must excuse me." 
 
 "Them pants is reely going at the knees: 
 how beautifully Dickory could fit you ! " was 
 the quiet rejoinder, with a good-natured smile. 
 Then she took a hair-pin out of her back hair, 
 and fastened a straggling lock on her forehead, 
 looked in my glass with a perfectly complacent 
 face, while I stood quivering with anger, with 
 my hand* on the back of my chair, adjusted her 
 cotton gloves, looked herself all over admir- 
 ingly, wished me good-morning, and walked out 
 of the study with the air of an empress. 
 
 The woman's vanity was astonishing, nay, it 
 reached the point of sublimity, as she regally 
 turned, came back, and asked for a drink of 
 water, and languishingly drank it, looking at 
 me. Then with a soft sigh, and a tragic shake 
 of the head, as if she were the victim of untold 
 sorrows, she departed.
 
 1 86 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 On such occasions I despised myself heartily 
 for the restraint I was forced to put upon my 
 temper. Clergyman as I was, it would have 
 been an immense satisfaction if I could have 
 taken her by the shoulders, and put her bodily 
 out of the place, with an injunction to her to 
 go, and come no more. But what could I do ? 
 she was a member of my church, in good stand- 
 ing. 
 
 What could I do with such people as the 
 Eddys, who were starving themselves, and 
 wronging their poor, crippled boy by denying 
 him the education he craved, and the art-sur- 
 roundings, the outside education of the senses 
 coming from things graceful and beautiful to 
 the eye ? so craving them that it was pitiful 
 to see the bare walls, all cracked and crum- 
 bling, ornamented with such pictures as the 
 poor lad could find in odd numbers of papers 
 and magazines, coarse daubs colored by home- 
 made pigments, and now and then a bit of china 
 suggestive of costlier bric-a-brac. They also 
 were members of the church ; and, say what you 
 will, such personal idiosyncrasies are seldom 
 touched by the pulpit. Ay, be plain as you 
 dare be, even to the verge of naming and point- 
 ing out the culprits, and they will meet you 
 with the sweetest, most debonair smiles, and 
 thank you for your "splendid sermon ! "
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. l8/ 
 
 What good did all my preaching do Tom 
 Tracy ? His impertinently beautiful face never 
 moved a muscle. Did he believe I meant him ? 
 God knows. There were two or three other 
 somewhat public targets in the congregation 
 a hundred for all I could tell. Perhaps my 
 shots were meant for them. At all events, the 
 men I did mean them for never flinched. Did 
 I not know, that before me sat, Sunday after 
 Sunday, rich men who rejoiced in their riches, 
 who surrounded themselves with their panoply 
 of wealth, and never gave to the poor, seldom 
 to missions, and only now and then to some 
 popular charity, that their names might be 
 sounded abroad ? Was I not fully conscious, 
 as in the case of Tom Tracy, that gossip told 
 strange stories concerning this and that digni- 
 tary, and that gossip had the truth to fall back 
 upon ? Was it a pleasant fact for me to be well 
 aware that some of my members, conspicuous 
 for active work in the church, owned places so 
 disreputable that it were a sin to name, and 
 gathered in their heavy rents from such foul 
 sources to throw into the Lord's treasury ? Did 
 I tell my wife that I was going to write thus 
 broadly concerning my colleagues? No or 
 this book perhaps had not been written. 
 
 As it is, I have said what I have, to prove 
 how hard it is for the most painstaking, ay, or
 
 1 88 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 the most eloquent, of God's messengers, to cor- 
 rect an error, or convict the human heart of 
 evil. What good may be done eventually, 
 what phase of existence may be reached, in 
 which the sleepy soul may arouse and remem- 
 ber, and perhaps reform, who can tell ? I do 
 not detract from my calling. It is glorious ; 
 and, if the reward comes not till hereafter, it is 
 all we have, or ought to have, a right to expect. 
 
 I seldom saw Miriam, even at the house of 
 my wife's mother. Hester was overflowing 
 with admiration for her : her executive ability, 
 her fitness for the sick-room, her tenderness, of 
 these she was always talking. Marguerite was 
 now almost installed in the rectory. Beautiful 
 as she was, and winning in a high degree, there 
 was something repulsive to me about the child. 
 Her habitual reference to her dead mother an- 
 noyed me. I could not reason her out of the 
 hallucination that she saw her almost constantly, 
 talked with, was advised by her. The delicate 
 dignity with which the child refuted my reason- 
 ing, sometimes awed me ; and the interpretation 
 that she put upon my explanations was often 
 beyond her years, and gave her a weird kind of 
 pre-eminence over other children of her age, by 
 whom I was surrounded. 
 
 I shall never forget one starry night when 
 her prescience was something startling and won-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 189 
 
 derful, but which I attribute to an extraordinary 
 gift of sympathy, with perhaps the aid of a clair- 
 voyant quality of the mind. 
 
 Dolly had gone to a concert with Ravaillac. 
 Hester was lying on the sofa after a visit to her 
 mother, whom she had left much better, every 
 way, than she had been for weeks. 
 
 "Now I'm going to nurse myself a little," 
 she said. " I have a fearful headache. Come, 
 Marguerite; lay your cool little fingers on my 
 forehead : you always help me." 
 
 The child was reading in a collection of 
 stories which I had bought for her the Christ- 
 mas before ; but she left her book at once, and 
 seated herself beside Hester. I remember how 
 uneasy I felt, a trifle jealous perhaps, that of 
 late she seemed to have taken my place ; but 
 Hester brightened at once, and became commu- 
 nicative. 
 
 " I had a letter from Marie Tracy that was," 
 she said, after a few moments; "and I judge 
 she is very happy. She is in Florence, she and 
 her husband, or were when she wrote ; and one 
 would think her an old Florentine, from the way 
 she mentions all the grand old places I remem- 
 ber so well, Ponte Vecchio, San Martino, San 
 Marco, the Porte Romana, and the Trinita. It 
 seems but yesterday that we were there ; and, if 
 you had only been with me, my happiness would
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 have been complete," she adds, looking over at 
 me with beaming eyes. 
 
 I smile ; but my glance is arrested by Margue- 
 rite, who seems looking at the clock, and yet 
 beyond it. What is it that makes the large dark 
 eyes dilate and deepen, and the whole exquisite 
 face, delicate as a star, perfect as a dream of 
 paradise, glow with a rapt, inspired expression ? 
 
 The child turns, and glances at me, and I am 
 chilled to the heart : I cannot tell why. If I 
 could escape from her, I would. I bethink me 
 of some unfinished work in the study ; and, beg- 
 ging Hester to excuse me for a few moments, I 
 retire thither. 
 
 Jenkins confronts me, combing his long hair 
 with his fingers by the fire. I am glad he is 
 there, for the gas is out. 
 
 " I was just going to shut up," he says. Jen- 
 kins always speaks as if my study were a shop. 
 He lights the gas, and goes out. I want him 
 to stay, but am ashamed to say so ; and I sit 
 down to my neglected correspondence, much 
 like a culprit whose sin is ever before him. But 
 I find I cannot write. Something oppresses me 
 something stays cold at my heart. I look 
 round on the old familiar backs of my books. 
 Here is a treatise on philosophy, three centuries 
 old. My father bought it in London at a great 
 book-sale. It is filled with curious plates, some
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. IQI 
 
 of which I seem to see * through the covers. 
 They are not all pleasant pictures, nor graven 
 in the highest style of art. 
 
 Presently there is a knock at the door. I 
 shiver as Marguerite presents herself, a lumi- 
 nous picture, apparently evolved out of the 
 darkness. Before the door is shut, I catch 
 sight of a cluster of stars. 
 
 " I didn't like to tell cousin Hester," the 
 child child or demon ? says, leaning on the 
 wide arm of my chair, and looking into my face, 
 while I shiver at her near proximity. 
 
 " Why, what have you to tell ? " I ask sharply, 
 conscious of my injustice in harboring such 
 feelings. 
 
 "Aunt Harriette is dead!" 
 
 A breath from the unseen seemed touching 
 my cheek as she spoke. 
 
 I started from my chair. 
 
 " What "do you mean ? " I asked sharply, so 
 sharply that she fell back a few paces from me, 
 and looked grieved. 
 
 "But, my dear, you know it must be non- 
 sense," I said, with an attempt at kindness. 
 " Hester was there less than an hour ago, and 
 she brought back the news that Mrs. Vaughan 
 was better than she had been for a long time." 
 
 "I know it; but I saw mamma, and she told 
 me."
 
 I Q2 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 I clinched my hands, the feeling of anger 
 came over me so suddenly. 
 
 " I have told you a thousand times that you 
 were mistaken " 
 
 Some one knocked at the door. I opened it. 
 John, the professor's man-of-all-work, stood 
 there. 
 
 I knew what he would say before he opened his 
 lips, but I fought against the conviction. That 
 steadfast gaze of Marguerite had explained it all, 
 unwilling as I should have been to confess it. 
 
 " Well, what is it, John ? " The great, dusky 
 vault of heaven glittering with its countless 
 stars seemed so near that I might have touched 
 it with my hand. 
 
 " It's bad news, sir. Professor says you must 
 break it to Miss Hester. The madam died 
 sitting up, 'fore they could git her into bed, 
 about half an hour ago. It just fell like a thun- 
 der-clap, it was so onlooked for." 
 
 Marguerite glided back into the house. She 
 had heard all he said, and did not even cast 
 back at me one glance of triumph. 
 
 " What is it ? " cried Hester, as John and I 
 went in together. 
 
 I took her outstretched hands, and kissed her 
 on the forehead. 
 
 " It is bad news, dear. Be strong, Hester 
 I can help you bear it."
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 1 93 
 
 " Is it mother ? " she asked faintly : " is 
 she dying ? " 
 
 No one answered. The silence was appal- 
 ling. Hester sank into her chair, trembling, 
 still holding my hand convulsively. The light 
 and color had all gone out of her face, but she 
 was very calm.
 
 194 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " Oh country sights and country sounds ! 
 Oh childhood's days forever gone, 
 When life was one unbroken joy 1 " 
 
 T TESTER mourned for her mother, and spent 
 JL 1 much of her time with the professor, to 
 whom her presence seemed for some days almost 
 indispensable. There had never been a com- 
 plete sympathy between my wife and Mrs. 
 Vaughan. In fact, the former had somewhat 
 disappointed her mother. Hester was what she 
 called strong-minded, and vigorously asserted 
 the rights of her sex. And, furthermore, Mrs. 
 Vaughan had visited very little at our house, 
 never having quite forgiven Hester for refusing 
 so many brilliant offers, to settle down at last 
 as only the wife of a clergyman who worked 
 for his living in a quiet, humdrum way. 
 
 Hester went into deep mourning, very much 
 against my wishes, for I have an utter abhor- 
 ence of the fashion of crape ; and presently 
 came the changes that we knew would inevita- 
 bly come.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 195 
 
 The professor wished to break up house-keep- 
 ing. He offered his house to rent, admirably 
 furnished as it was, he to keep a suite of rooms 
 including his library, and board with the incom- 
 ing family, a physician, it proved to be, with 
 a large practice and no children. 
 
 " That throws Miriam out," Hester said, as 
 we talked it over. " Papa is willing to provide 
 for her, or to find her a situation ; but Miriam 
 is so delicate, I hate to let her go among stran- 
 gers. Besides, I shall never forget her kind- 
 ness to poor mamma." 
 
 "And Marguerite," I said. 
 
 "Yes, Marguerite," said Hester, after a 
 thoughtful pause. "I don't think papa ever 
 cared much about her: it was a whim of 
 mamma's to take her, and now the child is 
 breaking her heart because it is proposed to 
 send her back to England. Either that or a 
 boarding-school, papa says. I certainly am 
 very much attached to the child, and she is not 
 constitutionally fitted to live among strangers. 
 My dear, I have a plan : if only you will second 
 it ! " she looked up anxiously at me, the color 
 flitting back and forth in her cheeks. I would 
 do any thing for her, and she knew it ; knew 
 that just now she stood on a plane beyond all 
 the ideals of womanhood that I had ever ima- 
 gined ; knew that her will was my law, and
 
 196 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 that, for the sake of the joy to come, I would 
 unhesitatingly have sacrificed my most cher- 
 ished plans, that nothing should interfere with 
 her happiness. 
 
 "Then, why cannot Miriam and Marguerite 
 come right here ? Dolly is away much of her 
 time, or writing in her room ; and I don r t want 
 to be lonesome now. Marguerite is progress- 
 ing delightfully in her studies, and pupil and 
 teacher are very much attached to each other. 
 It can make no difference with you. Then," 
 she added eagerly, "we can leave for our va- 
 cation with the comfortable feeling that there 
 is somebody in the house." 
 
 Had a bomb exploded at my feet, I could not 
 have been more completely taken by surprise. 
 I had supposed that the professor would provide 
 for the future of Miriam, and send the child 
 Marguerite to boarding-school. Both teacher 
 and child were distasteful to me. To have 
 them in the house at all times and seasons, to 
 experience that indefinable something in the 
 presence of Miriam, that was completely antag- 
 onistic to my nature, and yet to feel that she 
 exercised a subtle spell, that was by no means 
 a pleasant one, over my consciousness, made < 
 the proposition for a moment seem too mon- 
 strous to reflect upon with any degree of calm- 
 ness. There was a certain insincerity in Miriam
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 that made me feel painfully that she could not 
 be counted upon in any crisis that for the 
 sake of excusing herself she could accuse an- 
 other. Of course, I did not know exactly how 
 she felt toward me, only there was the convic- 
 tion that she cherished something approaching 
 revenge ; that she would be a constant thorn 
 in my side, and enjoy seeing me miserable. 
 Besides, it was possible that I should be thrown 
 very much in her society as Hester's health 
 became more markedly delicate, and I dreaded 
 that. There was the refuge of the church- 
 study, to be sure ; but I was no monk, and 
 craved sympathy and association. All these 
 thoughts shot through my mind, quickened by 
 the consciousness that I might have made every 
 thing clear if I had only told Hester that little 
 episode, would only tell her now. But time 
 upon that subject had only tied my tongue the 
 tighter. 
 
 " I hope you're not going to object," said 
 Hester. I had noticed that of late she was 
 more easily irritated than in her normal state 
 of perfect health, and I carefully avoided every 
 cause that might subject her to nervous moods 
 or unhappy intervals. 
 
 " I want to think of it, dear," I said at last, 
 reluctantly. " Of course, being your wish gives 
 it great weight with me; but are you sure
 
 198 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 you will like Miriam as well, as a constant as- 
 sociate ? In some cases, even where there is 
 a near relationship, distance lends enchantment 
 to the view, and " 
 
 "Why, Hal, dear! how unjust to dear Mir- 
 iam ! " said Hester with some vehemence. 
 "You have no idea what a lovely character 
 hers is nothing mean, sordid, or selfish about 
 her. I shall never forget her devotion, both to 
 my mother and her own. And she is so sweet 
 and companionable, she can take my place in 
 so many things. I am not going to be selfish, 
 and let you pine in loneliness because I can't 
 be always with you. Why, dear, it's more for 
 your sake than my own that I want Miriam ! " 
 
 The dear, unselfish little woman ! How im- 
 measurably superior to all the women I had ever 
 known, did she seem to me then. I clasped her 
 to my bosom, declaring that I would rather share 
 her solitude, even her hours of pain and impris- 
 onment, rather than spend moments in any 
 other companionship. 
 
 "Perhaps Miriam will not care to come," I 
 said. " Have you spoken to her about it ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! and she was only afraid that for- 
 tune held no such good thing in store for her. 
 Now you must be a good boy, and submit. I 
 have arranged for a sort of half nursery, half 
 study, for Marguerite; and the child is so
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 199 
 
 pleased ! She loves us both dearly, Hal, and I 
 couldn't consent to send her among strangers. 
 Dolly is pleased too ; and Dolly will probably 
 soon leave us for good. Has Ravaillac spoken 
 to you yet ? " 
 
 "Not yet," I said, with misgivings. I felt 
 an unaccountable sadness steal over me. My 
 home, which had hitherto been so sacred, a 
 source of joy, pure, ecstatic, and holy, was soon 
 to be a divided place. I felt, by some strange 
 law of the heart, as yet unread by nature, un- 
 known to science, that, the moment Miriam 
 stepped over our threshold, my peace and the 
 peace of my beloved Hester would be threat- 
 ened, if not sacrificed. It was as if I could see 
 that Miriam had been biding her time. 
 
 At length I acquiesced with the best grace I 
 could ; and Miriam came one sunny day, and all 
 her trunks and belongings with her. Hester 
 had given one of the best rooms for her occu- 
 pancy, and seemed quite overjoyed that now her 
 household was completed. 
 
 " I made papa promise that he would come 
 every Sunday to dinner," she said, beaming 
 upon me. " It will make him feel so much less 
 lonesome ! " 
 
 Lonesome! there was but little danger of 
 being lonesome now, in any part of the house. 
 Marguerite took music-lessons, Miriam practised
 
 2OO TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 indefatigably, and I soon began to sigh for the 
 old quiet. Hester had prepared a pretty little 
 apartment, leading out of the nursery, for her 
 own sewing-room ; and there I spent much of 
 my time, though Hester assured me that it was 
 her especial domain, and she should only allow 
 my visits till I got accustomed to the change. 
 
 We spent our vacation with my sisters ; -and, 
 while there, Belle was quietly married. My 
 wife enjoyed the beautiful country-haunts with 
 the enthusiasm of a child. 
 
 " I wonder you were not all poets," she said, 
 as we went from point to point, where as a boy 
 I had studied and fished, and gone berry-pick- 
 ing. " Every view is more beautiful than the 
 last, and I never saw such trees ! " Then the 
 thimbleberry bushes, the great tracts of wild 
 strawberry and blackberry vines, the sun-lighted 
 rivers, the natural arches made by bended 
 branches over the long green forest aisles, the 
 blue thread of a rivulet, the gorgeous sunsets 
 never was there a more delighted recipient of 
 country hospitality. 
 
 Oh, could I have staid there eternally with 
 my wife, amid those rustic sights and sounds ! 
 Could we have wandered from day to day, like 
 two happy children, unhindered by contact with 
 the Dickories ; the rich vulgar, and the poor 
 proud ; the selfish, who deemed themselves pro-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 2OI 
 
 digies of charity ; the stingy generous, and the 
 malevolent urbane ; the pews that paid and were 
 arrogant, the pews that did not pay and were 
 impertinent. But God only lets us live in par- 
 adise a little at a time, in this world ; and that 
 two months of solid enjoyment was all I could 
 have been spared in the dusty record of time. 
 Did I preach ? Not once. My brothers in the 
 ministry courteously invited, my sisters im- 
 plored, and my friends importuned. I wanted 
 to let my other life severely alone, and go back 
 to the old days when the preaching, if not the 
 preacher (who was my own father), was a bore 
 to me. I wonder if that is why I pity the chil- 
 dren so in crowded churches, with their vacuous 
 faces and ill-concealed yawns. 
 
 At last it was over ; at last only the dream 
 was left, to think of once in a while ; and I 
 went back refreshed to my sterner duties. 
 
 Dolly had been with us, and, once a week, 
 Mr. Ravaillac. It was curious to see how, in 
 his presence, the antipathies of my family took 
 wing. I knew why, it was the man's con- 
 summate tact. It amounted to genius. If 
 Dora looked for a chair, there was he with the 
 most comfortable of rockers, and a smile that 
 would have melted the frozen lips of marble 
 into its counterpart. If one of them lost her 
 spectacles, it was always Mr. Ravaillac who re-
 
 2O2 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 stored them, returning them with so courtly a 
 grace, that the recipient found herself longing 
 to lose them again. To spring forward with a 
 shawl, to move a hassock, roll a table, offer a 
 basket, insist upon precedent, and all the time 
 to make it apparent, by little, unobtrusive ser- 
 vices, that Dolly was the light of his eyes, the 
 very pulse of his heart ! Opposition halted, 
 prejudice vanished. He could say, "I came, I 
 saw, I conquered ! " 
 
 " I believe I could live forever in the atmos- 
 phere of Mount Myrtle," Hester would often 
 say, busy over her basket of little things. " We 
 will come here every summer, Hal." 
 
 We found the house on our return much the 
 same as we left it, only the carpets had been 
 shaken, and every thing put straight. 
 
 " Miriam is such a good housekeeper ! " Hes- 
 ter said : "you will not find any difference when 
 I am not down-stairs." 
 
 Did I not ? It would be hard for me to tell 
 how I found it something less than home, but 
 I did. 
 
 Miriam had grown more beautiful, and paid 
 more attention to dress than formerly. Gradu- 
 ally I saw that a change came over her. From 
 demure, sad self-possession, she became bright 
 and attentive. It seemed sometimes as if Hes- 
 ter had delegated her own social duties to her
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 2O3 
 
 cousin. She brought me my dressing-gown, 
 and warmed my slippers. At Hester's earnest 
 entreaty, I took her with me now and then to 
 lectures, to concerts. 
 
 "You must make poor, lonely Miriam as 
 happy as you can," Hester would say. " Some- 
 times it seems to me that you do not like her. 
 She feels it too." 
 
 "Why, what has she ever said ? " I asked in 
 some alarm. 
 
 "Nothing, not a word. I wish some good 
 man would come along whom she could love ; 
 for of course she is dependent now, and she 
 feels it : perhaps that is what I meant when I 
 said she thinks you do not like her. Of course, 
 like all young girls, Miriam would be happier 
 with a lover of her own." 
 
 " Then, why don't she get one ? " I asked 
 bluntly. 
 
 " She is not one of the pushing kind," said 
 Hester simply ; " so you must be very good to 
 her."
 
 2O4 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " And all her words were bitter, 
 And all her glances flame." 
 
 I WAS sitting in my study one evening, ad- 
 miring the effect of some statuettes I had 
 been beguiled by an itinerant Italian into pur- 
 chasing, when Jenkins thrust his long ears in 
 at the door. 
 
 " Sure, it's Mr. Ravaillac as wishes to see 
 you," he said, and stepped aside. 
 
 The Frenchman entered, paused on the 
 threshold, gave me a penetrating look, and 
 then stood like a prince, if princes ever await 
 the pleasure of their hosts. 
 
 "Won't you be seated, sir?" I said, and 
 pointed to a vacant chair. 
 
 He flushed, bowed, and slid with easy grace 
 into the chair indicated, crossed one leg over 
 the other, rested the hand which held his hat 
 on that, and so, his handsome face somewhat 
 troubled, proceeded to tell me his story. It 
 was very modestly told. He had loved Dolly
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 2O5 
 
 from the first moment of seeing her : he loved 
 her and his look grew rapturous as no man 
 ever loves a woman twice. He would ask per- 
 mission to show me some of his papers : he had 
 one from the American consul in Paris, from 
 the French minister in Washington. He had 
 that very day heard good news : his case was 
 gained ; the home of his ancestors restored, 
 though not their rank. That was impossible as 
 yet, while France remained republican. His 
 grand-mtre had cabled the news over her own 
 name, so had his sister. He held out the two 
 messages. Now he was independent : now he 
 could take his bride to his ancient home. He 
 knew he was asking of me a great prize : but 
 he would swear eternal fidelity, his wife should 
 be to him as a princess of the blood royal, while 
 we should be his ever beloved American kin- 
 dred ; and so he went on, while I listened 
 quietly. 
 
 " You ask a great deal, monsieur," I said : 
 "you take my twin sister, my twin soul, some 
 thousands of miles from our home. She has 
 there no friends, no brothers, no sisters, no 
 one but you. It is a serious question : it may 
 involve serious results. What does Dolly her- 
 self say ? " 
 
 "Ah! "his eyes flashed fire; he crossed his 
 arms upon his breast, while another flood of
 
 2O6 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 rapture brightened his face : " she says she will 
 go with me to the ends of the earth." 
 
 " And these are your papers ? " I asked, as 
 I put my hand upon the package he had placed 
 on the desk. " They are all in French, but the 
 one from the American consul. I cannot read 
 French." 
 
 "Ah! but you can easily get it translated.'* 
 I smiled at his quaint pronunciation. " I myself 
 could translate for you." 
 
 " I see," I said, putting my left hand in my 
 waistcoat inner pocket, and suddenly displaying 
 the tablet ; " and what is this ? " 
 
 That the man was not habitually a deceiver 
 was proved by the quick, deathly pallor that 
 overspread his face, and the start so full of 
 astonishment, and equally marked with guilt. 
 He gasped, and bit his lip. For once his court- 
 liness deserted him, for a rolling " Sacre-e ! " 
 issued from his lips. 
 
 "You know these, then? don't attempt to 
 deny it. / have known for a long time." 
 
 He stared at me wildly, threw one hand to 
 his head, and staggered like a drunken man. I 
 thought he would fall. 
 
 "I I am not prepared " 
 
 " Confess that you are an impostor ! " I thun- 
 dered ; " that you have sought my sister's hand 
 under false pretences ; that you have no sister, 
 no grandmother, no standing, no estates I "
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 2O/ 
 
 " Non ! non ! my God, non / " he cried, taken 
 aback by my vehemence. "I have a sister 
 2igrand-mtre a home. I will not be what 
 you call brow-beaten non ! You shall not so 
 address me ! " 
 
 "You have deceived me us all," I said 
 sternly. " I read it in your countenance." 
 
 "Ah ! in a little way perhaps in a small 
 way that is all it seems to us Frenchmen, I 
 swear to you ! " 
 
 "Don't swear to me. I want none of your 
 protestations : I want the truth. You invented 
 your sister made her sick or well at your ca- 
 price : you invented her husband, the colonel 
 of the French army. You see that I have in- 
 formation gained from a private source. You 
 are a liar, sir! and you cannot have my sister." 
 
 For one moment I stood on the defensive, for 
 his straight figure swayed and trembled with 
 sudden anger. I thought he would strike me. 
 But no : he preserved his dignity, simply say- 
 ing, " You are her brother ! I cannot touch 
 you." 
 
 There was sincerity in this, grace, magna- 
 nimity. His voice had the ring of manliness, 
 his eyes the look of truth. A moment more, 
 and Dolly stood in our midst, so purely beau- 
 tiful under the fleecy ornaments on shoulders 
 and head, that she seemed like an angel just 
 come from heaven.
 
 2O8 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " Brother, what is this ? are you angry ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " What has happened ? Your voice came 
 through to the parlor. Ernest," she added, 
 turning to Ravaillac, "what is it?" 
 
 " It is this," I said, fixing Ravaillac with my 
 eyes. " This man who has the audacity to ask 
 for your hand, is a vile impostor. He came to 
 you with lies on his lips, and in your pure pres- 
 ence he dares not deny it." 
 
 " Oh ! he must, he will deny it ! " she said, in 
 a low, passionate voice. 
 
 Another moment he was on his knees at her 
 feet, his head buried in her garments. Then 
 he looked up. Death seemed to be stamped in 
 his face. She was gazing down at him like a 
 pitying spirit. He was shaking from head to 
 foot. 
 
 "It was a sudden temptation and I was 
 overcome but I will tell you I will tell you " 
 and a terrible sob shook him from head to 
 foot. 
 
 " I will not have you kneel, Ernest. Get up," 
 said Dolly, with sudden sternness. All the 
 color had left her face. She gathered her gar- 
 ments, and held them back as if fearing con- 
 tamination from his touch. He saw the gesture, 
 quickly caught at them again, and kissed the 
 hem of her dress with passionate earnestness.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 2CX) 
 
 Then, as she drew back again, he let them fall, 
 rose to his feet, half turned away, and leaned 
 over the back of his chair. 
 
 For a few seconds there was utter silence. 
 Then she went towards him, very grave, offered 
 her little white hand, and as he took it, with a 
 renewal of hope kindling all over his face, and 
 glowing in his eyes, she said, 
 
 "If you have deceived me, Ernest, if you 
 have lied, as my brother says, my dear, good 
 brother, who has -loved me all my life, good- 
 by. Some other time I may listen to you as a 
 friend; but now I can't stay here," she added; 
 and with a cry that went to my heart, she hur- 
 ried out as she had come in, looking like to 
 faint. 
 
 " My God ! and I was so happy ! " he said. 
 " I will n6t live longer ! I want not life, nor 
 fortune, nor love without her." 
 
 " If you can tell me the truth," I said 
 
 He knelt humbly at my side, nor would he 
 listen to my commands that he should rise. 
 He talked rapidly : every sentence seemed to 
 burn with truth. 
 
 "I am not noble that is all. My father 
 was a soldier. My grandfather was with Napo- 
 leon at Austerlitz. He won a medal for bravery. 
 My father died, my mother died : they were 
 poor, but I was adopted by a merchant and his
 
 2IO TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 wife. My sister was taken by another family. 
 I was the same as son to the good people. 
 They cared for my grand-mere because her hus- 
 band had distinguished himself. These good 
 people lost all in the war : they were made poor, 
 but not before they had educated me. I was 
 all they had : they loved me, and I adored them. 
 Yes, yes, I have a sister mon ange petite 
 Elise. I swear to you she is no myth, but flesh 
 of my flesh, bone of my bone. She is also mar- 
 ried, and has a little son ; but her husband is 
 only a plain man, no officer of the French army. 
 That is only where I sinned yes, I own it 
 with shame, with very much shame ! I wanted 
 to seem better than I am. For her sake I 
 wanted to be a noble, unfortunate through in- 
 justice. Now you have the truth. God has 
 helped you more than men have helped me. 
 But I will tell you, and you shall believe ! 
 those to whom I belong are honest, .honorable 
 people ; and I could curse myself that I was 
 ashamed of their humble position they who 
 did so much for me. It was unmanly : I see it 
 now. I am unworthy to take the hand of a 
 good man ; and, alas ! I have lost the esteem of 
 the woman I worship. Here are my letters. 
 Take them where you will : the truth shall be 
 proved. Here is the paper that gives evidence 
 that my kind foster-parents have returned to
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 211 
 
 them the wealth they earned in business, that 
 was taken from them during the war. I de- 
 spise myself that I was ashamed of them. I 
 kneel here at your feet, and ask, implore, your 
 forgiveness. Do not condemn me for my weak- 
 ness. Have a little patience with me. I can- 
 not live and endure your contempt. Tell me 
 that you do not think me wholly unworthy." 
 
 What could I do ? his qualifications socially 
 were simply immense. I found that in my 
 heart I loved the fellow, and also found my 
 sympathy taking the shape of pity for his mis- 
 fortunes rather than his sin. And yet I could 
 say to him, 
 
 "Sir, I despise a liar." 
 
 "Yes," he said humbly, rising from his knees : 
 " I confess I have forfeited the good opinion of 
 honest men and women. Good-by, sir : you 
 shall no more see me." 
 
 There was a look in his large dark eyes that 
 moved me more than any word he had spoken. 
 
 " And what of Dolly ? " I said sternly. 
 
 He shook his head : his lip trembled. With 
 a gesture indescribable, he said, 
 
 " It was paradise and I have lost it. But 
 what can I say more ? Of what good is it to 
 me ? I care not for life : it is over, it is done 
 for me." His hand was on the door-knob. 
 
 " We will not part in anger," I said after a
 
 212 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 pause ; and I stood up, my heart aching for my 
 sister. " What Dolly may do in the future, I 
 can't say. She, too, shares in my hatred for a 
 for deception," I added hastily. " But it is 
 my duty as a minister of God to comfort and 
 forgive. You are penitent God help you and 
 console you." 
 
 I held out my hand. He took it with a 
 heavy, suppressed sob, in both his, carried it to 
 his lips, then went out into the dark. I looked 
 at my hand half reverently, standing there 
 alone : a large tear had plashed down upon it. 
 I took my handkerchief, and wiped it softly out. 
 
 As I expected, Dolly was not to be seen on 
 my return. Miriam sat by the centre-table by 
 herself. She looked up, smiling. 
 
 " Where's Hester ? " I asked. 
 
 " Hester went up-stairs early, with a bad 
 headache. Dolly came in a few minutes ago, 
 and she, too, rushed up-stairs. Marguerite fell 
 asleep so you see I have had a sociable even- 
 ing of it. Mr. Ravaillac promised to come back, 
 and play backgammon with me, but he didn't ; 
 and I wanted a game so much ! See, the table 
 is set : won't you play with me ? " 
 
 I was not in the mood for games of any kind : 
 my mind vtas occupied with the exciting scene 
 that had so recently occurred. Miriam had the 
 penetration to discover that something unpleas-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 213 
 
 ant had jarred upon my feelings. In another 
 moment my great, comfortable arm-chair was 
 drawn forward, the lamp-shade turned, so that 
 the light should not strike my eyes, and the 
 backgammon-table moved aside. Of course, I 
 acknowledged the courtesy by seating myself in 
 the cosey, softly illuminated room ; and not long 
 after that we two were playing backgammon. 
 I can recall the scene, the shadowy sides of 
 the room ; an ornament here, half in shadow ; a 
 book-case there ; a bit of gilding ; a touch of 
 color ; and Miriam, her soul in her face, watch- 
 ing my moves intently. 
 
 We had had three games, two of which were 
 won by her, and were nearly through the third, 
 when I observed her hand trembled. I looked 
 up : her eyes were swimming in moisture, and 
 singularly lustrous. Before I could speak, she 
 had burst into a violent passion of tears, sob- 
 bing and weeping as if her heart would break. 
 
 Startled, astonished, and at last a little angry, 
 I sat back in my chair, and looked' at the girl. 
 
 " Miriam, what does this mean ? " at last I 
 forced myself to say, trying to speak with stern- 
 ness, but I fear failing. 
 
 " Oh ! don't speak to me ! don't look at me ! " 
 she cried, drawing in her breath like one in pain. 
 "There are so so many things to make 
 one miserable. I am so unhappy ! so wretched."
 
 214 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 My impulse was to leave the room at once ; 
 but a touch of human nature, perhaps of curios- 
 ity, held me passive. 
 
 " I am sure Hester thought she was doing 
 her best by you," I said. 
 
 I think she set her teeth hard together. 
 
 " Hester ! " she said, and the tone made me 
 pitiless. "It was always Hester! Hester 
 always came between me and happiness." 
 
 " Then, if the trouble is with you and Hes- 
 ter, you must fight it out between yourselves," 
 I said, as I rose from my chair. 
 
 " Do you think I would say any thing to Hes- 
 ter ? " exclaimed the girl, also rising, and dash- 
 ing the tears away. And then she burst into a 
 torrent of reproaches that fairly stunned me. 
 To whom was she indebted for a life of isola- 
 tion, a heart starved and broken, but to me? 
 Yes, I could stand there at the sacred desk, and 
 preach to people about their sins, and look and 
 move among my congregation without reproach, 
 while my own record was that of a hypocrite 
 and a deceiver. She held my letters to prove as 
 much she held me ! She could fill my home 
 with hatred if she chose, could make Hester 
 despise me ! and there she stood, launching 
 out her thunderbolts with the passion of a Fury, 
 looking, as she did so, like a beautiful fiend. 
 
 At last the day of retribution had come.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 215 
 
 And I what could I do ? There was no 
 possibility of inflicting punishment : she was a 
 woman, and I had furnished her the weapons 
 with which to strike at my happiness. I stood 
 for a while stunned and helpless. 
 
 "After this," I said, when there was a lull in 
 the tempest of words, " it will be no longer pos- 
 sible for you to remain here, Miss Hope." 
 
 " And who will put me out ? Not you. Hes- 
 ter has my ear, and I have hers. I can wind 
 her round my finger, especially now. Oh ! I 
 said to myself, I would make you surfer such 
 torment as I have felt ; and I will. For a time, 
 / shall be mistress here ! " 
 
 The woman's audacity overpowered me. The 
 grievance was singular, subtle, and sudden. 
 For a few moments, I had that sort of helpless 
 feeling that the bird, perhaps, feels when the 
 eye of the charmer is fastened upon it. How 
 to make Hester aware of the hostile force in our 
 little household ? She had perfect faith in Mir- 
 iam. Towards her the girl was a pattern of all 
 the virtues, a mystic compound of the woman 
 and the angel. She relieved her of care. Her 
 manipulations often banished the headaches that 
 were now so frequent ; and the buoyancy of her 
 temperament bridged over those lapses of de- 
 spondency in which Hester was no longer my 
 sweet and smiling priestess, but foreboded ter- 
 rible things, and was sure she was going to die.
 
 2l6 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 She had spoken of letters. What letters had 
 she in her possession that could possibly com- 
 promise me ? I knew I had now and then writ- 
 ten her little notes ; but I knew, also, that they 
 all ended, " Yours respectfully." That last let- 
 ter, perhaps, in the excess of my pity, my self- 
 torment, in that I might have said something, 
 which, wrenched out of meaning, might be used 
 for my torture. 
 
 It was an unpleasant fact to face, that Miriam 
 cherished even now a fierce passion that touched 
 the borders of hate ; and I shrank from it as one 
 shrinks from a deadly danger, and yet knows not 
 how to escape. It was to be my thorn in the 
 flesh, unseen by any other than the eye of God, 
 to go with me wherever I -went, to lie down and 
 rise up with me, unless in some way I could rid 
 my home of the incubus that shadowed it, and 
 threatened my domestic happiness. I could not 
 condescend to bandy words with a woman : it 
 would have been a relief could I have put her 
 bodily out of the house, and have done with her. 
 
 But her presence was due to the express wishes 
 of my wife ; and if any thing could be done, which 
 I doubted then, it must be done through her. 
 At all events, one thing I could do. I would 
 let her severely alone. 
 
 How little I reckoned on a woman's strategy!
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 2 1/ 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 "Shall the fight be never ended? 
 
 Shall the conquest ne'er be gained ? " 
 
 I THINK even Dolly did not miss Ravaillac 
 more than I did. He was one of those bless- 
 ings one can better appreciate by its absence. 
 At his entrance, care seemed to vanish ; and 
 the Graces, in all sorts of amiable and beautiful 
 forms, took up their abode wherever he chose 
 to stay. 
 
 The morning after that stormy interview with 
 Miriam, I purposely delayed going below stairs 
 till the breakfast-bell rang. Even then my 
 heart sank within me, and my apprehensions 
 almost made a farce of my devotions. 
 
 I went in really leaning on Hester's strength ; 
 for she was unusually well and bright, conse- 
 quently in good spirits. 
 
 To my utter astonishment, there was not a 
 trace of the storm, the passion, of the preced- 
 ing evening. Quivering mouth and trembling 
 hands were firm enough, and equal to all the
 
 2l8 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 demands made upon them. One would never 
 have thought, to look at Miriam, freshly attired, 
 undisturbed and beautiful, that a breeze of an- 
 noyance had ever ruffled her calm uniformity of 
 demeanor. Towards me she was all smiles and 
 sunshine, while I sat in dumb amaze. Could 
 that strange episode ever have occurred ? Was 
 it not a dream of the night, a picture of my 
 excited fancy ? 
 
 Dolly came from an early walk just as we 
 were sitting down to breakfast, her cheeks scar- 
 let. It pained me to see how soon the rich glow, 
 born of exercise, faded, and the cheeks looked 
 haggard, the eyes restless and hollow. Plainly 
 she had not slept all night. She talked in her 
 old way, but both manner and matter were ex- 
 aggerated. I knew Dolly so well ! 
 
 When she fell on my neck afterwards, and, 
 sobbing, told me how much she had loved Ra- 
 vaillac, and how drearily she missed him, the 
 pain from her heart reached to mine. 
 
 "Surely no girl had brighter prospects," she 
 said. We were in the study, and she was sit- 
 ting on a hassock at my feet. " I often felt 
 that the rich feast spread before me was more 
 than I had a right to expect. Only think ! we 
 were going to travel for a year, one whole 
 year ! Now it is all over, and I cannot even 
 respect the man I loved so dearly. That is
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 2 19 
 
 the hardest of all. If he had only died ! " And 
 she bowed her heavy eyes, from which the tears 
 rained, on my knees again. 
 
 It was the first time I had had an opportunity 
 to relate to her the story he told in his own vin- 
 dication. She listened passively, her head on 
 my knee, her face turned from me. 
 
 "And in spite of all," I said, "he took my 
 sympathy, my forgiveness, away with him. If 
 he wished it, would you see him again ? " 
 
 "Never! " she said firmly. 
 
 "He is none the worse, you know, for not 
 being nobly born." 
 
 "Oh ! I didn't mean that I didn't think of 
 that ! What did I, as an American, value in the 
 historic greatness of a title? No : it is his des- 
 picable pride in ignoring his humble people, 
 that I cannot forgive. It shows there is some- 
 thing inherently selfish and mean in his charac- 
 ter. He wouldn't be safe to trust. I'm afraid 
 of him." 
 
 There seemed both common sense and truth 
 in what she said, and yet I found myself in the 
 mood to plead for him. 
 
 "I certainly do miss him," I said: "he made 
 our evenings so pleasant ! " 
 
 " So he did ; " and she smiled brightly. " And 
 I noticed, that however wearied I was with the 
 day's labors, or however much I had on my mind,
 
 22O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 all care fell off in his presence. He certainly 
 had a lovely temperament." 
 
 " It would never do for him to come as a friend, 
 then," I ventured. 
 
 "No, no: don't think of it not for him! 
 not for me ! No " and she smiled a little 
 drearily " we must make the most of Miriam 
 and Madge." At that the life had gone out 
 of her voice. 
 
 "But Miriam and Madge are not home," I 
 said, somewhat wide of the mark, though the 
 meaning was conveyed. 
 
 " No, indeed ! " said Dolly sadly. " I never 
 shall feel towards her, as I do for Hester. 
 There is a sense of something hidden about 
 Miriam, I can't describe it exactly, only feel 
 it. It seems as if she were watching one 
 getting at one's motives, suspecting one. Well, 
 I really ought not to say this but we are so sel- 
 dom quite alone now, you and I." Then she 
 looked up at me with wet eyes. 
 
 " Hal, had I ought to stay ? " 
 
 " Dolly ! what do you mean ? " I asked, in 
 real terror. Hester sick, Miriam mistress 
 self-constituted of the rectory, I could not 
 let her go. 
 
 " Since she is here, I feel as if in the way, 
 dear : I do really, and yet I can't say that she 
 ever implies it by word or deed. But I can't
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 221 
 
 help it : I feel so. You know there is the dear 
 old home and yet " 
 
 " It would kill you, Dolly, to go there and 
 brood, and brood. No : my house is your home. 
 And listen : just now it would not be home 
 without you. For my sake, if you can fight 
 this battle with your heart, here, stay. Lean 
 on me on a stronger than me, of course ; but 
 I will give you my poor help you know it." 
 
 " Yes, I know it." She got up from the has- 
 sock, and threw her arms about my neck, kiss- 
 ing me many times, as she had when I was a 
 child ; and, while she was thus kissing me, the 
 door opened and shut gently. Somebody looked 
 in. I could not say who, for the face dis- 
 appeared so instantaneously. I went to the 
 door nobody was in sight; and I dismissed 
 the matter from my mind, after we had both 
 wondered over it a little. 
 
 Then came a time appalling in the annals of 
 that city, disease that took the form of a 
 plague, and filled many homes with mourning. 
 Of this Hester was kept as much in ignorance 
 as possible, but my continued absences annoyed 
 her. Nervous depression added to her trials a 
 new danger. 
 
 She was sure I was not kind to Miriam : not 
 that Miriam complained, but she felt it. I 
 must take Miriam out oftener : her cousin was
 
 222 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 t 
 
 exhausted by the demands made upon her time 
 and strength. I did not appreciate Miriam's 
 beautiful character. I was sent down-stairs 
 when I would gladly have remained with Hester ; 
 and, if I sought relief in my church-study, Hester 
 was unhappy. How did I know that by many 
 a hint ; by chance words, carelessly spoken, 
 seemingly ; by affecting gayety, while the ready 
 tears were in her eyes, for this woman could 
 weep at will, Miriam so wrought on my wife's 
 sensitive mind, that Hester was becoming mor- 
 bidly anxious on her cousin's account? 
 
 There are devilish natures in this world, de- 
 cided types of the worst forces of our humanity, 
 seeming to lack nothing of the evil side of life, 
 while at the same time they pass for their op- 
 posites, the saints. Miriam was one of these, 
 working inch by inch, moving step by step, 
 toward the accomplishment of her purpose. 
 In this case she had fully decided to be re- 
 venged on me, for what she supposed was an 
 intentional slight. She had, of course, been 
 vain enough to think she could supplant Hester 
 in my affections, and, failing, chose to believe 
 I had trifled with her. In her soul I think she 
 must have known better. 
 
 Meantime I submitted, for Hester's sake, 
 and barely tolerated her cousin. She always 
 managed, however, to go into church when I
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 223 
 
 did, and to wait till I returned, on the pretext of 
 talking to some friend. She sat in the rector's 
 pew ; and as she was of a more social tempera- 
 ment than Hester, who was too much given to 
 studying people while talking with them, she 
 made a great many more acquaintances, with 
 whom she conversed wholly about me. The old, 
 foolish gossip was renewed. People looked at 
 each other significantly, and involuntarily smiled 
 whenever I spoke with her. 
 
 Unwittingly I overheard something of this 
 on one occasion. I had gone into the large re- 
 cess, curtained off from my study, to take off 
 my surplice, one day, after a baptismal cere- 
 mony. While there, I happened to come across 
 an old book I had long searched for among my 
 collection, but had missed; and, opening it 
 after I had hung up my robe, I stood near the 
 window, reading sentence after sentence on a 
 subject of absorbing interest. 
 
 "He's not here," said one of the two ladies 
 who came into the study a moment after. 
 "We'll wait a moment; and, if he don't come, 
 we will go." 
 
 Now, it happened that I had special reasons 
 for not wishing to see these people, who were 
 of the same stamp as Mrs. Dickory, only they 
 had been polished or varnished in a some- 
 what higher style. I thought to myself, as I
 
 224 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 had most entertaining reading, that I would re- 
 main quiet, hoping that they would go. 
 
 "Queer about that Miss Hope, isn't it?" 
 one of the women questioned, in a low voice. 
 
 "Yes: it's often the way when " and then 
 followed whispering which I could not hear. 
 
 " They say it's an old flame of his," said the 
 other. 
 
 " Oh, no ! it was while the engagement was 
 on with Miss Vaughan. People talked a good 
 deal. I have been told that he gave her a ring, 
 and courted her in right down earnest. People 
 who know her very well, tell me so. It was a 
 blow to her when 'he married her cousin : I 
 know that. And now it's plain to be seen 
 which he likes best. Why, he who runs may 
 read." 
 
 I opened the curtain. 
 
 "Ladies," I said, "you may say what you 
 will about me, but my wife shall not be in- 
 sulted." I would have said more; but, with a 
 double cry of dismay, the women fled. 
 
 I followed this up on the next Sunday with a 
 sermon on slander, in which I lashed the gos- 
 sips right and left ; but my jighteous indigna- 
 tion was probably lost upon those for whom I 
 intended it. Certainly I never had more com- 
 pliments than for this "most masterly sermon !" 
 I could have taken to my bed in sheer disgust.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 225 
 
 " The proper study of mankind is man," the 
 poet says. God help the students, in the pulpit 
 and out ! 
 
 And yet, there were men and women in that 
 congregation from whose beaming faces I often 
 borrowed my inspiration. They were not of 
 the rich, seldom of the learned. Some of them 
 occupied the seats that were nearest the door, 
 and some of them sat in the free seats. I knew 
 what the grasp of their hands meant : their 
 words outweighed gold to me. I saw upon 
 their careworn brows the imprint of the Father, 
 the peace of the Son. By their humble firesides 
 I tasted ambrosia, and their homely words were 
 as the steps of shining ladders that led up into 
 the light of the glory of the Unseen. They 
 had been "acquainted with grief," like their 
 Master ; and the discipline of sorrow had made 
 them saints. 
 
 How to be rid of this terrible shadow which 
 darkened my home and threatened my peace ? 
 It was a penance for me now to sit in my par- 
 lor, to meet Miriam at the table or in Hester's 
 room. She saw with her keen woman's eye 
 that I avoided her, even to- rudeness ; but she 
 pursued the same policy. My dressing-gown 
 was always ready ; she followed after me to see 
 if I needed any friendly office ; she took it upon 
 herself to represent me to strangers; she in-
 
 226 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 censed me at times almost to madness. And 
 yet for Hester's sake I must endure. I knew 
 what that smooth smile portended, with the 
 malice lying underneath. But I waited for the 
 time when the touch of baby fingers would 
 make my poor Hester forgetful of all else : 
 then, I resolved, I would tell her every thing, 
 and send Miriam away. 
 
 Dolly was my good angel through this trying 
 period. Her sisterly kiss strengthened and 
 heartened me, though I could see that she was 
 very unhappy. 
 
 Twice she had met Ravaillac, once in a 
 cathedral, from which she came to me. 
 
 " He looked so wan and white ! " she half 
 sobbed. " It was a hot afternoon ; and I had 
 just come from the art school, feeling very 
 tired, and almost ill. The heat overcame me, 
 and I thought I should fall, when suddenly I 
 saw the cool, dark interior of the old cathedral. 
 Knowing that it was always open, I went in, 
 walked up the wide, shadowed aisle checkered 
 with dim blocks of color from the stained win- 
 dows, and presently I went into a stately kind 
 of pew, and there knelt down. When I looked 
 up, somebody was kneeling beside me. I knew 
 him in a moment, and my heart almost stood 
 still. He turned, and looked at me. O Hal ! I 
 shall never forget that look ! " she half sobbed, 
 as she hid her tears on my shoulder.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 22/ 
 
 " He didn't speak : he only looked. And 
 presently he got up, moved reluctantly away, 
 and went out of the cathedral, t too m 
 much of a gen gentleman to speak, unless 
 I gave permission," she sobbed. From 
 which I gathered that she would not have been 
 very angry if he had spoken. 
 
 I met him myself not long after that ; and 
 the pallor of his face, the unnatural brilliancy 
 of his eyes, shocked me. 
 
 " I really am very sorry for this thing, Ra- 
 vaillac," I said. " If I could mend matters, I 
 certainly would." 
 
 " It is of my own fault," he made reply, sadly ; 
 "but, my God ! I cannot live without her. It 
 is killing me ! " 
 
 Not long after that, an item of painful inter- 
 est was chronicled. Ravaillac was accidentally 
 shot, so the newspaper report said, but the 
 wound proved to be not dangerous. All these 
 days Dolly moved round the rectory like a 
 ghost, slowly, with pained eyes and parted lips. 
 Only now and then she came and sat down be- 
 side me when I was reading, and I knew how 
 she longed for comfort and companionship. 
 Yet, when I essayed the former, she shrank 
 from me ; and so I found that silence suited 
 her best. One day she came to me smiling, 
 with the tears in her eyes.
 
 228 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " See, he has written to me," she said, " and 
 you may read it." 
 
 She sat down, leaning her head on my shoul- 
 der while I read. My eye lighted on this par- 
 agraph. 
 
 "It was no chance shot : I deliberately tried to end 
 my life. You, and you alone, shall know the truth. 
 Since then, I am ashamed. God gave me the life which 
 should be spent in his service. I have decided* to go to 
 my beloved country, alone to live alone, and in works 
 of mercy and charity try to forget. Forget ! mon Dieu, 
 never ! But I will at least be a man ! " 
 
 " There is more in Ravaillac than I thought," 
 I said. "Don't you see it is the best thing he 
 could do?" 
 
 " Oh ! I suppose it is he seems to think it 
 best," she said in a very faint voice. " Yes, it 
 is best, on the whole for I suppose" the 
 increasing weight of her head upon my shoul- 
 der alarmed me. I looked round at Dolly. She 
 had fainted.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 22Q 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 " A word fitly spoken, 
 How good it is 1 " 
 
 THE next few months seemed marked with 
 disaster. One of my wardens, a jolly, 
 worldly fellow, for we do not choose those 
 officers because of ecclesiastical fitness, came 
 to me one day, wearing an absent expression so 
 markedly foreign to his ordinary appearance, 
 that I was anxious at once to know with what 
 errand he had been charged, or had charged 
 himself. 
 
 " To tell you the truth," he said in his brusque 
 way, " I expect you will tell me to mind my own 
 business, or perhaps pitch me out of the study. 
 But I couldn't hear of these things, you know, 
 and not go in. Why, I've had no end of rows 
 on your account ; and I'll be blamed if I don't 
 knock down the next infernal rascal who dares 
 to wag his tongue about you ! " 
 
 My experience had prepared me to divine his 
 meaning. 
 
 " I see," I said : " some of my parishioners
 
 23O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 have been making a too free use of my name. 
 I could tell you exactly what has been said. If 
 they had come to me in the first place, I could 
 easily have enlightened them ; but they chose 
 to stab me in the dark." 
 
 " I know it ; and, after all, it's only a few of 
 the mischief-makers, with Mrs. Stanley at the 
 head, and Mrs. Dickory at the bottom." 
 
 " Ah ! that woman, Mrs. Stanley, has never 
 forgiven me." 
 
 " She never will, particularly as she has failed 
 of her long-cherished purpose," was the rejoin- 
 der. " Tom Tracy has cut her dead, as the 
 saying is. He has gone to the Epiphany, to 
 sing ; and she has no one to put on her shawl, 
 or to tie her shoe-lacings if she wears 'em. I 
 don't really, upon my soul, think Tom ever 
 meant any harm. He's a queer fellow, is 
 Tom ; and, once suspected, his pride made it 
 difficult, if not impossible, to give in : and my 
 wife thinks, that if he had been a little less 
 cold-natured, and had frankly admitted to his 
 wife, that, as the people had been talking about 
 him, he'd give 'em something to talk about, and 
 let her see the curious and perhaps mixed mo- 
 tives that influenced him, she would not have 
 died as she did. But Tom's a queer genius. 
 Just speak of Tilly, and the tears will come in 
 his eyes. Upon my soul, I believe the fellow
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 23! 
 
 thinks he was more sinned against than sin- 
 ning. Lord ! my wife knows, if I go down 
 street for a pound of shingle-nails, what I'm 
 going for. You see, I found out at first that it 
 wouldn't do to have a divided household rea- 
 soned it out on this plane. Man and wife are 
 one, consequently I have no right to keep even 
 matters of business from Liza. Tell you what, 
 she has tided me over some mighty tough places, 
 just because she knew when business went 
 wrong. A fellow needn't put the full weight of 
 his miseries and mistakes upon her ; but it's 
 best to go on the principle that a firm is bound 
 to hold by each other, to retrench when neces- 
 sary, to keep the balance-sheet correctly, and to 
 have no secrets. That's what I call fair and 
 square, and a man ain't half a man that don't 
 do it." 
 
 I winced under the rude eloquence of my 
 junior warden, though the humor of telling 
 " Liza " made me smile. His wife was a little 
 round woman, with the roses of sixteen and the 
 smile of a baby ; and she had never seemed to 
 me like a woman who had a care in the world, 
 or who could manage a household : while Hester 
 was my ideal of a noble woman nobly planned, 
 and yet I had shrunk from making her a confi- 
 dante in so many cases where she could have 
 aided me. I trembled when I thought of one,
 
 232 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 the most important business mistake I had ever 
 made, and that threatened me in the near future 
 with a serious loss. I had gone security for a 
 man of whom, nearly a year before, Hester had 
 expressed herself as distrustful, though anxious 
 that I should aid him in his task of self-reform. 
 
 " Do what you can for him, but don't give 
 him money," she had said. " He is bound to 
 live on his friends." 
 
 Of course I had not told Hester ; and I ex- 
 pected to find myself in that unfortunate posi- 
 tion, where, my salary all taken to pay the debts 
 of a dishonest man, as I found him to be, I must 
 humiliate myself to make known my weakness 
 in the character of a supplicant to my wife. 
 How much better if I had asked, and acted 
 upon, her advice ! 
 
 "And they have gone so far as to say that 
 somebody opened the door upon you in your 
 study one day, and well, I might as well out 
 with it found you with her arms about your 
 neck." 
 
 I started from my chair. 
 
 " This is infernal ! " I remembered the inci- 
 dent and Dolly's innocent caresses. Dear little 
 Dolly ! who only staid at the rectory for my sake ; 
 who was as much incensed against Miriam, for 
 taking advantage of poor Hester's weakness 
 and nervousness, as I could be, and who felt the
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 233 
 
 gradual estrangement that seemed coming over 
 Hester, almost as keenly as myself. 
 
 I told him the whole story, and threatened to 
 resign. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, don't think of such a 
 thing ! " said my friend. " This matter will 
 right itself : leave it with me. I'm glad I know 
 how it all came about, and I'll frighten Dickory 
 and Company nearly out of their wits. Just 
 leave it to me. Think no more about it ; don't 
 preach as if you noticed it ; just go right on with 
 your duties, and we'll have it all straightened out 
 in a twinkling. You stick to the pulpit, and I'll 
 stick to the preacher. There's only one of the 
 vestry has lent an ear to this thing, and he 
 would die if he didn't have a chance to suspect 
 somebody. He made most of the trouble about 
 Tom Tracy though I don't defend Tom. 
 Tom did wrong ; and I think he sees it now, 
 and would own it like a man. There's good in 
 Tom, and I'm half sorry he was driven away ; 
 but there must be a storm now and then, I sup- 
 pose, to clear the atmosphere : and ministers 
 ain't no more exempt than other men, if they 
 do live on a little higher plane than we folks in 
 the pews. You see, they're expected to be such 
 a super-angelic sort of persons, especially by 
 the women-folks, that the least hint of a smudge 
 leaves a black mark. Now, just don't you 
 trouble yourself about it."
 
 234 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 Indeed, I had neither the time nor the incli- 
 nation to pursue the matter, and gladly left 
 myself in the hands of my friends. Hester's in- 
 creasing weakness alarmed me. She was so 
 changed, that though I looked for a difference, 
 even perhaps in mentality, I was not prepared 
 to find my presence forbidden, with the knowl- 
 edge conveyed to me by Miriam that my com- 
 pany was not at all times agreeable. 
 
 It was on one of these occasions that all the 
 savage in me came to the surface ; and, with a 
 glance at the disturbing element that for the 
 first time cowed her, I passed her, and went 
 resolutely into the sitting-room of my wife. 
 
 She was very pale, but a delicate tinge of red 
 touched her cheeks as she looked up from the 
 depths of the great lounging-chair, which I had 
 placed there with my own hands for her com- 
 fort. In her grasp was a daintily bound book, 
 just from the press, Dolly's first literary venture 
 of the kind ; and her sewing lay by her side on 
 a low table. 
 
 I kissed her : she did not return the kiss. 
 
 " Miriam said you were not so well, my dar- 
 ling," was my first remark, adding playfully, 
 "that you didn't even wish to see me." 
 
 " Miriam was right," said Hester coldly ; and 
 my heart sank. 
 
 "What have I done, dear? " I ventured to ask.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 235 
 
 "Oh ! nothing except that you treat dear 
 Miriam very unkindly and I owe every 
 thing to her ! " 
 
 " Owe every thing to Miriam ! Miriam seems 
 to be the motive-power in this household. I 
 beg you to remember, Hester, that I have some- 
 thing to say in the matter, although I brought 
 you nothing, and you brought me all. I am 
 your husband, Hester ! " 
 
 Her lips trembled, and her pallor increased. 
 
 " I am sorry you dislike my cousin so much : 
 there was a time when" she struggled 
 violently to master her emotion. As in a light- 
 ning-flash, I saw it all revealed the cruelty and 
 perfidy of Miriam. What had she not told her ? 
 Hester had grown deadly pale. I put my arms 
 out to infold her; but with a terrible cry she 
 motioned me away, and then lay like one dead. 
 
 Then came the trial time, a darkened house, 
 stealthy footsteps, whispering voices, and finally 
 the anguish of bending over a little image of my 
 Hester, cold and white, beautiful as an angel, 
 yet never to answer to love-words of mine, or of 
 my poor, unconscious wife. For weeks Hester's 
 life was despaired of : for months she was a 
 helpless invalid, cared for by Miriam always 
 by Miriam. 
 
 I buried myself among my books. Dolly 
 came in the study, and wrote beside me, night
 
 236 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 after night. We two were now, more than 
 ever, all the world to each other. Miriam's 
 beauty seemed sometimes almost unearthly in 
 its demon-like quality. The blaze of gratified 
 vengeance shone in her eyes. She took the 
 reins in her own hands, and was virtually mis- 
 tress of the house. Dolly and I talked it over, 
 but we could come to no satisfactory conclusion. 
 Even when Hester was pronounced out of dan- 
 ger, she received me with a stolid calm that 
 shocked and shook me. 
 
 " Better to have followed her to the grave," 
 I said to Dolly after one of these interviews. 
 " My child is buried out of sight, and my wife 
 is dead to me. What can be done ? " 
 
 " It is all through Miriam," said Dolly. " Oh ! 
 how I hate falseness ! " She shuddered. Poor 
 little Dolly ! she, too, was fighting her heart's 
 battles, and finding her foes hard to conquer. 
 " There is only one way," she said, after a little 
 pause. 
 
 " And what is that ? " 
 
 " Dismiss Miriam at once. I would not have 
 counselled that before, but Hester is getting 
 stronger. She will never be quite well, I think, 
 till Miriam is gone." 
 
 " But how to do it ? She will fly to Hester, 
 disturb her peace, work upon her sympathy : in 
 what way can I dismiss her ? Hester is com-
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 pletely dominated, in her weak state, by Mir- 
 iam's powerful will." 
 
 " You must not allow her to see Hester." 
 
 " She will. I can't lay hands on a woman, as 
 I could if my opponent were a man, and put her 
 out of the house." 
 
 " I think you can manage it," Dolly persisted. 
 "I would." 
 
 "What plan have you thought of?" I que- 
 ried, quite willing to be guided by a woman's 
 judgment. 
 
 " I would lock the door the first evening she 
 goes out, muffle or remove the door-bell, put her 
 trunks outside, and have a carriage waiting at 
 the gate, just as if she had arranged a journey. 
 Her pride will not let her stay waiting long." 
 
 " But her belongings ? " 
 
 " She keeps every thing in trunks. She is 
 very much afraid of the servants ; and all her 
 things, with the exception of a few articles, are 
 locked up. That is fortunate." 
 
 "But how will it sound abroad that I turned 
 my wife's cousin out of the house ? " 
 
 " It will never be lisped. I know Miriam 
 well enough for that. You have got to use 
 harsh measures. Once she sees herself mas- 
 tered and helpless, there is an end to it. The 
 treacherous are seldom brave. She will not even 
 seem to bear you malice, take my word for it."
 
 238 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " But where will she go ? " 
 
 "What do you care where she goes? She 
 has friends : let her use them. I have not a 
 particle of pity for her. To think how she has 
 abused your confidence, murdered your child " 
 
 "Hush, Dolly!" 
 
 " It is simple truth," said Dolly. " You will 
 have to win Hester all over again but you can 
 do it ; " and she made a little triumphal flourish 
 with her pen. " If Hester had been herself, 
 this never would have happened, poor child ! 
 Now she only remembers the near past, and 
 Miriam is a part of it. I really think, to save 
 Hester's life, Miriam must go. Let us keep 
 it all hidden in our hearts, and leave that wo- 
 man to God. No one need ever know what she 
 has been to us, or why she goes." 
 
 " Dolly, I believe you are a wise little coun- 
 sellor," I said. " Hester may suffer less than 
 we fear." The plan began to shape itself to my 
 mind, and I took great delight in dwelling upon 
 it. And this woman, who had plotted against 
 my happiness, took holy communion from my 
 hands, and drank the wine consecrated to be- 
 lievers ! 
 
 I have often blessed God for the fact, strange 
 as it may seem, that, among the twelve whose 
 office was the regeneration of the world, a Judas 
 was allowed to mingle his unholy ministrations.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 239 
 
 It has kept my faith when I have seen the of- 
 fices of our holy religion made subservient to 
 greed and lust and hypocrisy. There be saints 
 and saints ; and if you will give me a hearty, 
 whole-souled sinner reputedly in the place 
 of some of these latter, I shall preach the gos- 
 pel to better acceptance.
 
 24O TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " At last the peace of perfect love, 
 No doubt our rest disturbing." 
 
 DOLLY and I held our peace like the couple 
 of conspirators we were, only now and then 
 Dolly begged me to try and seem more natural. 
 " One would think you were plotting terrible 
 things," she said, " while in reality you are only 
 saving your family peace by using a little strat- 
 
 egy." 
 
 " I cannot appear at my ease where Miriam 
 is," was my answer. " I shall never draw a 
 happy breath till she is clean gone. But she 
 never goes out." 
 
 "Oh! the time will come," said Dolly; "be 
 patient. I know she will go out some evening 
 this week, when her cousin is asleep, and 'must 
 not be disturbed.' I can hear her say it. She 
 would not leave her alone while awake, for the 
 world." 
 
 The time did come. There was to be a ser- 
 vice ; but, luckily, Dolly did not attend church
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 24! 
 
 that evening : and equally lucky was it, that a 
 young ministerial brother visited me in my 
 study, and consented to take my place. Dolly 
 came to the study-door with the glad news just 
 as the bell was tolling ; and I excused myself to 
 my friend, and hurried into the house. In less 
 than an hour Miriam's trunks were set out in 
 the yard, the service was over, the church and 
 rectory locked, and a coachman standing at the 
 gate-entrance, to be paid by the hour, even if 
 he staid there all night. 
 
 Dolly and I remained in the front parlor till 
 the veiled figure of Miriam came up the walk, 
 and paused at the strange sight that met her 
 gaze. Then she mounted the steps, and rang 
 the door-bell. No sound. The bell was care- 
 fully muffled, as it had been many and many a 
 day of her evil ministration, when her victim 
 lay unconscious, and apparently dying. 
 
 At last she seemed to comprehend that she 
 was out-generalled. She stood irresolute for a 
 moment, ran down the steps, mounted them 
 again, made a gesture of superb disdain, and, 
 as Dolly had conjectured she would, submitted 
 to the inevitable with the best grace she could ; 
 and presently the carriage rolled away, and a 
 great load of care rolled off my heart. Once 
 more home was home ! Oh, how happy I felt 
 moving through the pleasant rooms with Dolly
 
 242 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 by my side ! Never should that woman step 
 over the threshold of my door again. All the 
 evil of our human nature seemed to me person- 
 ified in that evil, beautiful figure and face. The 
 very recollection of her gifts and graces kin- 
 dled me to wrath. Hester was no longer to be 
 divided in her affection, her care, her duties ; 
 she was all mine : and the old love came up in 
 my heart, like a flame newly kindled, as I crept 
 up-stairs, only to look upon Hester's thin white 
 face as she slept. 
 
 Poor child ! she was but the shadow of her 
 former self. Her hand, resting on the white 
 cover ; her cheek, rivalling the pillow in white- 
 ness ; the long, thick lashes casting a heavy 
 shadow on the pallor beneath them ; her pretty, 
 childlike lips parted, and her teeth glistening in 
 the dim light how my heart ached as I thought 
 of all she had suffered ! 
 
 She stirred a little as I stood there, I hoped 
 she would wake, and from her lips came a 
 moan; but it sounded like "Miriam," and 'I 
 turned away. 
 
 What a sense of triumph was mine as the 
 memories of the past crowded thickly upon my 
 brain ! I was master now, alike of my home 
 and my wife, master, I mean, in the sense of 
 possession only. 
 
 I moved a step farther, and the hot tears
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 243 
 
 rushed to my eyes as they fell on the beautiful 
 little cradle that I had purchased after days of 
 search for something fitting for such a treasure. 
 There it stood, pure white, its canopy edged 
 with costly lace, its silken cover pitifully smooth 
 and straight. And there beside it was the 
 dainty baby-basket, all the work of Hester's 
 fingers, but every thing as polished, as perfect, 
 as intact, as the day she finished her pretty 
 work "for baby." 
 
 It was with real heart-ache I turned away, 
 and sought my own room, that looked no longer 
 cheerless and deserted, but filled with a dream- 
 like presence. 
 
 In the morning the delightful consciousness 
 flowed in upon me with the first sense of day- 
 light and sunshine, that the hated incubus was 
 gone. Heretofore I had dawdled over every 
 duty : now my fingers flew. I longed to get 
 down-stairs, and throw all the house open. 
 Dolly met me. She had been up in Hester's 
 room, and looked a little grave. 
 
 " Of course there were many things to do," 
 she said, " and Miriam was a good nurse. 
 Hester was astonished, and asked for her as 
 soon as I came in. I told her Miriam had gone 
 the night before, and had not yet returned. 
 Would I do? She used to like to have me 
 comb her hair. No, she would wait for Miriam.
 
 244 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 Meantime I knew what was always prepared for 
 her breakfast ; and, when the time came, I car- 
 ried it up-stairs. Hester was nervous, and a 
 little irritable ; couldn't imagine what had come 
 over Miriam. But she took her chocolate and 
 oatmeal, and ate a little. Then she allowed me 
 to arrange her hair, but seemed very thoughtful. 
 All at once she threw her hands up, saying, 
 
 " ' I see it ! I see it all ! you have sent Mir- 
 iam away. You were meanly jealous of the 
 poor child, and I shall never see her again.' 
 
 "With that she just fell over on the pillow, 
 and began to cry, and beg Miriam to come back, 
 till I was frightened. I left her that way. 
 What is to be done now ? I have been asking 
 myself whether you had better go up and try 
 to soothe her. We shall have her ill again." 
 
 What would be the end of this complication 
 of affairs, it was difficult to foresee. Hester 
 was so changed and so weak from her long ill- 
 ness, that it was perhaps as much as her life 
 was worth to cross her now ; and I hardly knew 
 what to do. It is a curious situation for a man 
 to be in, when he dares not venture into the 
 presence of his own wife, or goes there with fear 
 and trembling, as I did. 
 
 Opening the door, I saw that Hester was 
 still prostrate with grief, and lay there softly 
 sobbing.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 245 
 
 " Hester ! " I said. 
 
 She did not move, only buried her face 
 deeper in the pillow. 
 
 "My dear little wife!" 
 
 I took her fingers, but she threw my grasp 
 aside ; and for some time I sat there in silence, 
 anxious and perplexed. 
 
 " Can this be the dear girl that I married ? " 
 I asked softly. 
 
 She lifted herself, her eyes ablaze, the crim- 
 son of fever in her cheeks. 
 
 "Yes, yes! you married me but you loved 
 Miriam Hope ! O Hal ! how could you be so 
 cruel ? How dared you ? " 
 
 For the moment I was utterly incapable of 
 reply. My heart beat heavily, and I could feel 
 its pulsations all over my body. Such an ex- 
 traordinary assertion ! so utterly false ! and 
 from Hester's lips ! What damning evidence had 
 Miriam given to justify such language and such 
 defiance ? What had not my wife suffered ? my 
 poor darling ! With all my anger, I pitied her. 
 
 "What has that woman been telling you, 
 Hester ? " I asked, after a pause, as calmly as I 
 could. 
 
 "All your falseness, your duplicity your 
 cruelty and you a minister of Christ ! " 
 
 Her words went straight to my heart. 
 
 " If / had only told you all ! " I groaned.
 
 246 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 " What ! there is worse ? " she cried with a 
 look of horror. 
 
 " No, Hester : there is no crime on my soul, 
 unless it be that of having loved my wife too 
 well," I made reply. And then, made eloquent 
 by the exigency of the circumstances, I poured 
 out my whole heart. I told her every thing, 
 of my weakness, not infidelity; of my want of 
 true manhood, my vanity; of Miriam's dupli- 
 city, her confessions, her recriminations, till 
 the tables were 'turned, and I had proved it was 
 I who suffered, who had been wronged. When 
 Hester saw all, and she did, I had won my 
 wife back. When she saw all, she saw treason 
 and treachery of the blackest. She saw that 
 her life had been poisoned at the very fountain- 
 head by her cousin's baseness, and her little 
 babe paid with its life the penalty of her own 
 rash credence. Not for worlds would she have 
 had Miriam back. 
 
 " Oh, it has been such a night of horrors ! " 
 she said, her dear head resting in its olden 
 place upon my bosom. " But you will forgive 
 me we shall be happy again ? " 
 
 " Yes," I made reply, " now that our home is 
 purified, and my wife has come back to me." 
 
 " O Hal ! and I tried to think I hated you," 
 she sobbed. 
 
 It seemed as if that were a day of wonders.
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE. 247 
 
 Dolly brought me a letter written in the quaint- 
 est English, which proved to be from the old 
 grandmother of Mr. Ravaillac. It besought 
 Dolly to have pity on her grandson, the dear 
 child of her old age, who was, ah ! so unhappy, 
 so wretched, so penitent, and who had confessed 
 all to her. She spoke in terms most eloquent 
 of his goodness to her, his virtues, his tender- 
 ness, and ended by an allusion to their family 
 name, which was old, and had been famous, 
 though they had no escutcheon of nobility. 
 
 "Shall you answer it, dear?" I asked. 
 
 "I think I will," she said, smiling. " You 
 see, I have been in correspondence with him 
 since he went to France just friendly let- 
 ters and well, he is coming back to Amer- 
 ica." 
 
 I kissed Dolly, for I was very glad. 
 
 I am still at old St. John's. My people love 
 me. I have buried their dead, married their 
 children, visited their poor, sick, and dying, for 
 the last ten years. Many of the old people 
 have passed to their long home. Many of the 
 younger have moved to other places. Of those 
 who remain, Mrs. Dickory still files into church 
 with her train of children, in all eight or nine, 
 and -performs the most unaccountable antics all 
 through service and sermon. But I have only 
 to raise my eyes to see two golden heads, my
 
 248 TELL YOUR WIFE. 
 
 own blue-eyed darlings, Hester seven, Dolly 
 five, who sit so demurely, hiding all their little 
 rogues'-tricks under the prim bonnets and 
 pretty Sunday garments, and I forget Mrs. 
 Dickory and the Dickory brood. 
 
 Tom Tracy has come back, repentant, into 
 the fold of the church ; and he sings as delight- 
 fully as when in the old days he vexed the souls 
 of the righteous, even as he drew their hearts 
 out with his marvellously sweet voice. 
 
 Marguerite is away at school, and never hints 
 now of her visions or fantasies, if such they 
 were. For myself, I am not prepared to decide. 
 
 Miriam married a very good man, but there is 
 a rumor in the air that she is not happy ; and we 
 have lately learned that there was insanity in 
 the Hope family, which accounts in a measure 
 for her wayward fancies and strange moods. 
 We seldom meet. 
 
 Ravaillac is on his way to Paris for the third 
 time since his marriage. Dolly goes with him 
 every voyage, and comes back to us radiant. 
 She is a happy little woman ; and, if there is 
 any moral in my story, it is summed up in the 
 title of this little book, 
 
 / 
 
 TELL YOUR WIFE.
 
 MARY A. DENISON'S NOVELS. 
 
 UNIFORM EDITION. CLOTH, $1; PAPEB, 50 CENTS. 
 
 HIS TRIUMPH. 
 
 " A sprightly Btory is ' His Triumph,' in spite of the fact that it opens 
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 aways, of lovers' letters, of a haunted house, a debutante, and all of the 
 romance and reality that pertain to a well-conceived and well-told story. 
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 triumph." Philadelphia Keystone. 
 
 LIKE A GENTLEMAN. 
 
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 The incidents are thrilling, the plot interesting, the story well told." 
 
 ROTHMELL. 
 
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 Chicago Inter -Ocean. 
 
 THAT WIFE OF MINE. 
 
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 THAT HUSBAND OF MINE. 
 
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 Full of good humor, with a great deal of patience. It teaches you how 
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 . . . There are passages of pathos, of moralizing, of pointed ridicule and 
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 Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, and sent by mail, postpaid, 
 on receipt of price. 
 
 l.i:ii AM) SHEPAJID, Publishers, Boston.
 
 THE DOUGLAS NOVELS. 
 
 BY Miss AMANDA M. DOUGLAS. 
 
 Uniform Volumes. Price $1.50 each. 
 
 A WOMAN'S INHERITANCE. 
 
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 WHOM KATHIE MARRIED. 
 
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 LOST IN A GREAT CITY. 
 
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 HOPE MILLS ; or, Between Friend, and Sweetheart. 
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 COUPON BONDS, and other Stories. 
 
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 NEIGHBORS' WIVES. 
 
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 and naturally enough. The story is ingenious and graphic, and kept the 
 writer of this notice up far into the small hours of yesterday morning." 
 Washington Chronicle. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, and sent by mail, postpaid, 
 on receipt of price. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston.
 
 SOPHIE MAY'S "GROWN-UP" BOOKS. 
 
 Uniform, Binding. All Handsomely Illustrated. $1.60. 
 
 JANET, A POOR HEIRESS. 
 
 " The heroine of this story is a true girl. An imperious, fault-finding, 
 onappreciative father alienates her love, and nearly ruins her temper. 
 The mother knows the father is at fault, but does not dare to say so. 
 Then comes a discovery, that she is only an adopted daughter; a for- 
 saking of the old home; a life of strange vicissitudes; a return; a mar- 
 riage under difficulties; and a discovery, that, after all, she is an heiress. 
 The story is certainly a very attractive one." Chicago Interior. 
 
 THE DOCTOR'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 " Sophie May, author of the renowned Prudy and Dotty books, has 
 achieved another triumph in the new book with this title just issued, 
 She has taken ' a new departure ' this time, and written a new story for 
 grown-up folks. If we are not much mistaken, the young folks will 
 want to read it, as much as the old folks want to read the books written 
 for the young ones. It is a splendid story for all ages." Lynn Semi- 
 Weekly Recorder. 
 
 THE ASBURY TWINS. 
 
 " The announcement of another work by this charming and popular 
 writer will be heartily welcomed by the public. And in this sensible, 
 fascinating story of the twin-sisters, 'Vic' aud ' Van,' they have before 
 them a genuine treat. Vic writes her story in one chapter, and Van in 
 the next, and so on through the book. Van is frank, honest, and practi- 
 cal; Vic wild, venturesome, and witty; aud both of them natural and 
 winning. At home or abroad, they are true lo their individuality, and 
 gee things with their own eyes. It is a fresh, delightful volume, well 
 worthy of its gifted author." Boston Contributor. 
 
 OUR HELEN. 
 
 " ' Our Helen ' is Sophie May's latest creation ; and she IB a bright, 
 brave girl, that the young people will all like. We are pleased to meet 
 with some old friends in the book. It is a good companion-book for the 
 ' Doctor's Daughter,' and the two should go together. Queer old Mrs. 
 O'Xeil still lives, to indulge in the reminiscences of the young men of 
 Machias ; and other Quiunebasset people with familiar names occasionally 
 appear, along with new ones who are worth knowing. ' Our Helen ' Is a 
 noble and unselfish girl, but with a mind and will of her own; and the 
 contrast between her and pretty, fascinating, selfish little Sharley, IB very 
 finely drawn. Lee & Shepard publish it." Ilolyoke Transcript. 
 
 QUINNEBASSET GIRLS. 
 
 " The story is a very attractive one, as free from the sensational and 
 impossible as could be desired, and at the same time full of interest, and 
 pervaded by the same bright, cheery sunshine that we find in the author's 
 earlier books. She is to be congratulated on the success of her essay in 
 a new field of literature, to which she will be warmly welcomed by those 
 who know and admire her ' Prudy Books.' " 
 
 Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, and sent by mail, postpaid, 
 on receipt of price. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston.
 
 LEE AND SHEPAED'S BOOKS OF TRAVEL. 
 
 GERMANY SEEN WITHOUT SPECTACLES; or, Ran- 
 dom Sketches of Various Subjects, Penned from 
 Different Stand-points in the Empire. By HENRY 
 KUGGLES, late U. S. Consul at the Island of Malta, aud at Barce- 
 lona, Spain. $1.50. 
 
 " Mr. RuggicR writes briskly : he chats and gossips, slashing right and 
 left with stout American prejudices, aud has made withal a most enter- 
 taining book." Ifeio - York Tribune. 
 
 TRAVELS AND OBSERVATIONS IN THE ORIENT, 
 
 with a Hasty Flight in the Countries of Europe. 
 
 By WALTER HARRIMAN (ex-Governor of New Hampshire). $1.50. 
 
 " The author, in his graphic description of these sacred localities, refers 
 
 with great aptness to scenes and personages which history has made 
 
 famous. It is a chatty narrative of travel, tinged throughout with a vary 
 
 natural and pleasant color of personality." Concord Monitor. 
 
 FORE AND AFT. A Story of Actual Sea-Life. By ROBERT B. 
 
 DIXON, M.I). $1.25. 
 
 Travels in Mexico, with vivid descriptions of manners and customs, 
 form a large pan of this striking narrative of a fourteeu-mouths' voyage. 
 
 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. A Geographical Jour- 
 ney of Twenty-five Hundred Miles from Quebec to the Gulf of 
 Mexico. By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. With numerous illustra- 
 tions aud maps specially prepared for this work. Crown 8vo. 
 $1.50. 
 " Mr. Bishop did a very bold thing, and has described it with a happy 
 
 mixture of spirit, keen observation, aud bonhomie." London Graphic. 
 
 FOUR MONTHS IN A SNEAK-BOX. A Boat- Voyage of 
 
 Twenty-six Hundred Miles down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, 
 
 and along the Gulf of Mexico. By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. 
 
 With numerous maps aud illustrations. $1.50. 
 
 " His glowing pen-pictures of ' shanty-boat ' life on the great rivers are 
 
 true to life. His descriptions of persons and places are graphic." 
 
 Zion's Herald. 
 
 A THOUSAND MILES' WALK ACROSS SOUTH 
 AMERICA, Over the Pampas and the Andes. By 
 NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. Crown Svo. New Edition. Illustrated. 
 $1.50. 
 
 " Mr. Bishop made this journey when a boy of sixteen, has never for- 
 gotten it, and tells it in such a way that the reader will always remember 
 it, and wish there had been more." 
 
 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. Being the Adventures of a 
 Naturalist Bird-Hunting in the West-India Islands. By FRED A. 
 OBER. Crown Svo. With maps and illustrations. $2.50. 
 During two years he visited mountains, forests, aud people that few, 
 
 if any, tourists had ever reached before. He carried his camera with 
 
 him, and photographed from nature the scenes by which the book ia 
 
 illustrated." Louisville Courier-Journal. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, and Kent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price* 
 
 LEE & SHEPARO, Publishers, Boston.
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD'S BOOKS OF TRAVEL. 
 
 LIFE AT PUGET SOUND. With sketches of travel in Wash- 
 iugtou Territory, British Columbia, Oregon, and California. By 
 CAROLINE C. LEIGHTON. 16mo. Cloth. $1.50. 
 " Your chapters ou Puget Sound have charmed me. Full of life, deeply 
 
 interesting, and with just that class ot tacts, and suggestions of truth, 
 
 thai cannot fail to help the Indian and the Chinese." WENDELL 
 
 PHILLIPS. 
 
 EUROPEAN BREEZES. By MARGERY DEANE. Cloth. Gilt 
 top. $1.50. Being chapters of travel through Germany, Austria, 
 Hungary, and Switzerland, covering places not usually visited by 
 Americans in making " The Grand Tour of the Continent," by the 
 accomplished writer of " Newport Breezes." 
 " A very bright, fresh, and amusing account, which tells us about a host 
 
 of things we never heard of before, and is worth two ordinary books on 
 
 Kuropean travel." Woman'* Journal. 
 
 AN AMERICAN GIRL ABROA1). By Miss ADELINE TRAF- 
 TON, author of " His Inheritance," " Katherine Earle," etc. ICmo. 
 Illustrated. $1.50. 
 " A sparkling account of a European trip by a wide-awake, intelligent, 
 
 and irrepressible American girl. Pictured with a freshness and vivacity 
 
 that is delightful. " I'tica Obxerrer. 
 
 BEATEN PATHS; or, A Woman's Vacation in Europe. 
 
 By ELLA W. THOMPSON. 16mo. Cloth. $1.50. 
 
 A lively and chatty book of travel, with pen-pictures humorous and 
 graphic, that are decidedly out of the " beaten paths " of description. 
 
 A SUMMER IN THE AZORES, with a Glimpse of Ma- 
 deira. By Miss C. ALICE BAKER. Little Classic style. Cloth. 
 Gilt edges. $1.25. 
 
 "Miss Baker gives usa breezy, entertaining description of these pic- 
 turesque islands. She is an observing traveller, and makes a graphic 
 picture of the quaint people and customs." Chicago Advance. 
 
 ENGLAND FROM A BACK WINDOW ; With Views 
 of Scotland and Ireland. By J. M. BAILEY, the '"Dan- 
 bury News' Man." 12mo. $1.50. 
 
 " The peculiar humor of this writer is well known. The British Tslea 
 have never before been looked at in just the same way, at least, not by 
 any one who has notified us of the fact. Mr. Bailey's travels possess, 
 accordingly, a value of their own for the reader, no matter how many 
 previous records of journeys in the mother country he may have read." 
 Rochester Erprexx. 
 
 OVER THE OCEAN; or, Sights and Scenes in Foreign 
 Lands. By CURTIS GUILD, editor of "The Boston Commer- 
 cial Bulletin." Crown 8vo. Cloth, $2.50. 
 
 "The utmost that any European tourist can hope to do is to tell the 
 old story in a somewhat fresh way, and Mr. Guild has succeeded in 
 every part of his book in doing this." Philadelphia Bulletin. 
 
 ABROAD AGAIN; or, Fresh Forays in Foreign Fields. 
 Uniform with "Over the Ocean." By the same author. Crown 
 8vo. Cloth, $2.50. 
 
 " He has given us a life-picture. Europe is done in a style that must 
 serve as an invaluable guide to those who go ' over the ocean,' as well aa 
 an interesting companion." Halifax Citizen. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, and sent by mail, pontpaid, on receipt of price. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD. Publishers, Boston.
 
 TROPHIES OF TRAVEL. 
 
 DRIFTING BOUND THE WORLD ; A Boy's Adven- 
 tures by Sea and Land. By CAPT. CHARLES W. HALL, 
 author of " Adrift iu the Ice-Fields," "The Great Bonanza," etc. 
 With numerous full-page and letter-press illustrations. Royal Svo. 
 Handsome cover. $1.75. Cloth. Gilt. $2.50. 
 " Out of the beaten track " in its course of travel, record of adventures, 
 
 and descriptions of life in Greenland, Labrador, Ireland, Scotland, Eng. 
 
 land, France, Holland, Russia, Asia, Siberia, and Alaska. Its hero is 
 
 young, bold, and adventurous; and the book is in every way interesting 
 
 and attractive. 
 
 EDWARD GREEY'S JAPANESE SERIES. 
 
 YOUNG AMERICANS IN JAPAN ; or, The Adventures 
 of the Jewett Family and their Friend Oto Nambo. 
 With 170 full-page and letter-press illustrations. Royal Svo, 7 x9j 
 inches. Handsomely illuminated cover. $1.75. Cloth, black and 
 gold, $2.50. 
 
 This story, though essentially a work of fiction, is filled with interest- 
 ing and truthful descriptions of the curious ways of living of the good 
 people of the land of the rising sun. 
 
 THE WONDERFUL CITY OF TOKIO ; or, The Fur- 
 ther Adventures of the Jewett Family and their 
 Friend Oto Nambo. With 169 illustrations. Royal Svo, 
 7x9J iuches. With cover in gold and colors, designed by the 
 author. $1.75. Cloth, black and gold, $2.50. 
 
 "A book full of delightful information. The author has the happy 
 gift of permitting the reader to view things as he saw them. The illus- 
 trations are mostly drawn by a Japanese artist, and are very unique. " 
 Chicago Herald. 
 
 THE BEAR WORSHIPPERS OF YEZO AND THE 
 ISLAND OF KARAFUTO ; being the further Ad- 
 ventures of the Jewett Family and their Friend 
 Oto Nambo. ISO illustrations. Boards. $1.75. Cloth, $2.50. 
 Graphic pen and pencil pictures of the remarkable bearded people who 
 
 live in the north of Japan. The illustrations are by native Japanese 
 
 artists, and give queer pictures of a queer people, who have been seldom 
 
 visited. 
 
 HARRY W. FRENCH'S BOOKS. 
 
 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. The wanderings of two young Americans 
 in Hindustan, with their exciting adventures on the sacred rivers 
 and wild mountains. With 145 illustrations. Royal Svo, 7 x 9J 
 inches. Bound iu emblematic covers of Oriental design, $1.75. 
 Cloth, black and gold, $2.50. 
 While it has all the exciting interest of a romance, it is remarkably 
 
 vivid in its pictures of manners and customs in the land of the Hindu. 
 
 The illustrations are many and excellent. 
 
 OUR BOYS IN CHINA. The adventures of two young Ameri- 
 cans, wrecked in the China Sea on their return from India, with 
 their strange wanderings through the Chinese Empire. 1S8 illus- 
 trations. Boards, ornamental covers in colors and gold. $1.75. 
 Cloth, $2.50. 
 This gives the further adventures of " Our Boys" of India fame in the 
 
 Imnd of Teas and Queues. 
 
 Bold by all booksellers, and tent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price. 
 
 LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston.
 
 DC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 000 040 098 6