“Josy,” said he, somewhat humbly, for he could not blame her, “you surely do not intend to carry out this farce any longer, do you? This is making me too ridiculous!”
“And what have you been doing, then, my dearest husband?” replied she, cheerfully. “I cannot content you—you will take my place and find fault with either ‘too much’ or ‘not enough,’ and I begin to feel housekeeping two ways a little fatiguing. Not only must I arrange matters to please myself, but on your return I must begin anew to satisfy your exigéance.”
“Well, well, Josy,” said Edwin, “say that you are not serious, in giving me so absurd an office, and I will promise not to interfere again. Will that do?”
“I will try you for one week then; if within that time, beginning from this hour, you trespass again by interfering once only in my housekeeping, I give back the management of all into your hands.”
“Done! done!” cried he, delighted, and sealing the bond with a kiss, “you shall not hear a word of complaint from my lips, Isabel and Ellen to witness. Given under my hand, etc.;” and he ran off, with one bound was in his buggy, and drove rapidly away.
“He is certainly very amiable and good-natured,” said Isabel, looking after him affectionately, for he deserved the eulogium. Feeling the justice of his wife’s complaint, he did not, as many, oh, how many! would have done in his place, fly into a rage, and exert that tyranny of marital power which every day some lord of the creation delights to show. Refuse, in virtue of that very power, to acknowledge my wrong, and turn a “heaven into a hell” of domestic discord. “He is certainly very amiable,” continued Isabel, “and divested of this unpleasant mania, will make the best husband in the world.”
“He will, indeed,” said his wife, looking much gratified. “I have never seen any one with a more lovely disposition than Edwin. He is never cross, even in the midst of his housekeeping,” and she laughed. So did I, and I could not but wish that Edwin’s week of probation were well over. Meddling with pantries, cellars and kitchens, was his second nature, and we took our seats around the well-supplied dinner-table, awaiting with some curiosity the results of the morning compact. Soup being served, Martin proceeded to remove the plates and bring in the second course. Alas! alas!
“How is this Martin? What a waste of vegetables! Josy, my dear—” He stopped, and we all burst into a laugh, in which he had to join.
“The bond is broken,” said Josephine at length. “I did hope and pray for your triumph, my dear Edwin. Take back the keys.”
“Will no one intercede for me?” said he, with a woful look. “May I not have one more trial, ladies—only one more?” He was really mortified and distressed.