"I mean the kind of beauty which does one good and makes a man wish that he were a man."
"Do you mean an unmarried man?" said his wife with a discordant laugh.
"Probably your own wishes suggested that speech, madam," replied the husband, bitterly.
"And pray, where did you find so much beauty?" said Mrs. Mayhew, ignoring his last remark.
"On a breezy hill-side. It's a kind of beauty, too, that one can enjoy without paying numberless bills for its enhancement. I refer to that of the scenery."
"Oh," remarked Mrs. Mayhew, indifferently; "it would have been more to your credit if you had gone to church instead of tramping around the fields."
"I think the fields have done more for me than church for you."
"Why so?" was the sharp response.
"They have at least kept me from indulging in one bad habit. I am sober."
"They do not keep you from making ill-natured remarks," said Mrs. Mayhew, sailing out of the room fully bedizened for the solemnity of dinner.