“No doubt they are very excellent, worthy people, but it does not appear to me now that I can ever really learn to take any pleasure in their society—yet I hope I shall always treat them with perfect politeness, and kindness too, for they are very warm friends of yours, Rupert.”
“Thank you, Anna—they are indeed good friends of mine, and so will they be, too, of yours, when they know you better; and you also, my dearest, will find that beneath their plain exterior and homely speech they have warm hearts, and minds far above many of those who figure largely in what is termed the best society.”
“I do not doubt it, Rupert,” replied Anna. “Well, I must try to conform myself to their habits, I see, and for your sake I hope they will love me, for it is very plain to me, from some words which one of the good ladies accidentally let fall, that they consider me now a most useless, unprofitable wife—a mere image for a toy-shop, and that I shall prove a perfect stumbling-block in the way of my dear husband’s advancement. Now tell me,” she continued, and tears filled her beautiful eyes, “what can I do to gain their friendship, and convince them that I prize my dear Rupert’s respect and affection too highly not to exert myself to be worthy of them—tell me, Rupert, what I can do?”
“Act yourself, my darling wife,” said Rupert, kissing her, “be as you ever are, kind and lovely. It is true many of my best friends do not approve of my choice, but do not trouble yourself about their approbation—only act in your new sphere as your own good sense and native kindness prompts you, and you will be sure of it. I sometimes think it was cruel in me to woo you away from your home of splendor to this retired, uncongenial spot. I fear you can never be really happy here, and in spite of your love for me, will often sigh for the luxuries you so cheerfully gave up for my sake.”
“O say not so, dear Rupert—I shall be most happy here, indeed I shall—with your love and approbation how can I be otherwise—they will stimulate me to conquer many false notions, inherent from my cradle. I will not deny,” continued Anna, “for I scorn evasion, and will make a clean breast of my follies, that I have already fancied the necessity of many things to render me even comfortable—you smile, Rupert, and there have been moments of ennui, when I have felt almost contempt for things around me—I have even given way to anger at what I at first supposed insolence in Kitty. She is, to be sure, a rough, unmannerly girl, but it is because she has never been taught better; I know she has a kind heart, and that with a little management I shall soon be able to convince her of the impropriety of many things she now does from ignorance—not willfulness.”
“You must be cautious, Anna—Kitty will take umbrage at the slightest hint, and be off without a moment’s warning.”
“No, I think better of her,” said Anna. “We shall see. I have been thinking,” she continued, “how much many mothers are to be blamed for not better preparing their daughters for the duties of domestic life—that sphere where a woman’s usefulness and influence are most felt. There is no denying that almost before little Miss slips her leading-strings, she is taught to regard marriage as the chief aim of her life—she is taught to sing and dance—she has drawing-masters and music-masters, French and Italian—and for what reason? Why is she kept six hours at the piano, and scarcely allowed to speak her mother tongue?—why, that she may get married! That object cared for—the future is left a blank—”
“Yes,” interrupted Rupert, “very much like rigging out a ship with silken sails and tinseled cordage, and then sending her forth on a long voyage without provisions!”
“Exactly, Rupert. To my mind housekeeping in all its branches should be considered as much of an accomplishment in the education of young ladies, as a perfect knowledge of music or any of the fine arts! Had my parents spent one quarter the time and expense upon my acquirements as a wife, which they did to render me fashionable and agreeable in the fastidious eyes of their world, how much better satisfied I should feel—how much more confidence that I have not imposed upon your affection by a total unfitness for the duties of a wife—indeed, my dear Rupert,” said Anna, smiling, “you ran a great risk when you fell in love with me!”
We will not trace the daily walk of our heroine further, but leave it to the reader to fancy from what has already been said, how thickly the thorns mingled with the roses on her path of new married life!