low the
level of any self-respecting cat. Even if outward and visible disgrace
comes to the family of her husband, she is unworthy if she does not
hold her head high and let the world see her loyalty.

Marriage gives her no right to criticise any member of her husband's
family; their faults are out of her reach except by the force of
tactful example. Her concern is with herself and him, not his family,
and a wise girl, at the beginning of her married life, will draw a
sharp line between her affairs and those of others, and will stay on
her own side of the line.

When a man falls in love with a thoughtless butterfly, his womenfolk
may be pardoned if they stand aghast a moment before they regain their
self-command. In a way it is like a guest who is given the freedom of
the house, and who, when her visit is over, tells her friends that the
parlour carpet was turned, and the stairs left undusted.

Another household is intimately opened to the woman whom the son has
married, and the members of it can make no defence. She can betray
them if she chooses; there is nothing to shield them except her love
for her husband, and too often that is insufficient.

A girl seldom stops to think what she owes to her husband's mother.
Twenty-five or thirty years ago, the man she loves was born. Since
then there has been no time, sleeping or waking, when he has not been
in the thoughts of the mother who has sought to do her best by him.
She gave her life wholly to the demands of her child, without a
moment's hesitation.

She has sacrificed herself in countless ways, all through those years,
in order that he might have his education, his pleasures, and his
strong body. With every day he has grown nearer and dearer to her;
every day his loss would have been that much harder to bear.

In quiet talks in the twilight, she teaches him to be gentle and
considerate, to be courteous to every woman because a woman gave him
life; to be brave, noble, and tender; to be strong and fine; to choose
honour with a crust, rather than shame with plenty.

Then comes the pretty butterfly, with whom her son is in love. Is it
strange that the heart of the mother tightens with sudden pain?

With never a thought, the girl takes it all as her due. She would
write a gracious note of thanks to the friend who sent her a pretty
handkerchief, but for the woman who is the means of satisfying her
heart's desire she has not even toleration. All the sweetness and
be