“Nay, you are very useful in your way, for you play and sing to him, and that soothes him.”
“Yes, I do it with pleasure, for I can do but little else; but, Araminta, my singing is that of the caged bird. I must sing where they hang my cage. Oh, how I wish I had been a man!”
“I believe that there never was a woman yet who has not, at one time of her life, said the same thing, however mild and quiet she may have been in disposition. But, as we cannot, why—”
“Why, the next thing is to wish to be a man’s wife, Araminta—is it not?”
“It is natural, I suppose, to wish so,” replied Araminta; “but I seldom think about it. I must first see the man I can love before I think about marrying.”
“And now tell me, Araminta, what kind of a man do you think you could fancy?”
“I should like him to be steady, generous, brave, and handsome; of unexceptionable family, with plenty of money; that’s all.”
“Oh, that’s all! I admire your ‘that’s all.’ You are not very likely to meet with your match, I’m afraid. If he’s steady, he is not very likely to be very generous; and if to those two qualifications you tack on birth, wealth, beauty, and bravery, I think your ‘that’s all’ is very misplaced. Now, I have other ideas.”
“Pray let me have them, Melissa.”
“I do not want my husband to be very handsome; but I wish him to be full of fire and energy—a man that—in fact, a man that could keep me in tolerable order. I do not care about his having money, as I have plenty in my own possession to bestow on any man I love; but he must be of good education—very fond of reading—romantic, not a little; and his extraction must be, however poor, respectable,—that is, his parents must not have been tradespeople. You know I prefer riding a spirited horse to a quiet one; and, if I were to marry, I should like a husband who would give me some trouble to manage. I think I would master him.”