“What am I to do in the matter, my husband—you see how quickly I have come to recognize your authority?” she cried, while he glanced at his sister’s invitation.
“My dearest, you had better recognize the duty of a wife in this and other matters, by pleasing yourself,” said he.
“No,” said she. “I will only do what you advise me. That, you should see as a husband—I see it clearly as a wife—will give me a capital chance of throwing the blame on you in case of any disappointment. Oh, yes, you may be certain that if I go anywhere on your recommendation and fail to enjoy myself, all the blame will be laid at your door. That’s the way with wives, is it not?”
“I can’t say,” said he. “I’ve never had one from whom to get any hints that would enable me to form an opinion.”
“Then what did you mean by suggesting to me that it was wife-like to please myself?” said she, with an affectation of shrewdness that was extremely charming.
“I’ve seen other men’s wives now and again,” said he. “It was a great privilege.”
“And they pleased themselves?”
“They did not please me, at any rate. I don’t see why you shouldn’t go down to my sister’s place next week. You should enjoy yourself.”
“You will be there?”
He shook his head.