With what a rebuking force did these words fall upon the ears of Mr. Bain! He saw himself in a new light. He was the domestic tyrant, and not the kind and thoughtful husband.
A few days, and Mrs. Bain was moving about her house and among her children once more, pale as a shadow, and with lines of pain upon her fore-head. How differently was she now treated by her husband! With what considerate tenderness he regarded her! But, alas! he saw his error too late! The gentle, loving creature, who had come to his side ten years before, was not much longer to remain with him. A few brief summers came and went, and then her frail body was laid amid the clods of the valley.
Alas! how many, like Mrs. Bain, have thus passed away, who, if truly loved and cared for, would have been the light of now darkened hearths, and the blessing and joy of now motherless children and bereaved husbands!
THE FIRST AND LAST QUARREL.
"IF I am his wife, I am not his slave!" said young Mrs. Huntley, indignantly. "It was more than he dared do a month ago."
"If you love me, Esther, don't talk in this way," said Mrs. Carlisle.
"Am I his slave aunt?" and the young bride drew herself up, while her eyes flashed.
"No, Esther, you are his wife."
"To be loved, and not commanded! That is the difference, and he has got to learn it."