as in my single days. I have never
considered the point very closely; but now I come to think of it, I
would certainly have an understanding with my husband on the
wedding-day. "My dear Clive," I would say to him--Clive is a favourite
name of mine; I hope I shall marry a Clive--"you must understand once
for all that, though I intend to treat you with wifely confidence, I
shall only tell my own secrets--not other people's." And he will reply,
"Audrey, you are the most honourable of women. I respected you before; I
venerate you now."'

'Audrey, how you talk!' But Mrs. Harcourt could not help laughing.
Audrey was looking very nice this evening; white always suited her. To
be sure, her hair might have been smoother. 'There is some sort of charm
about her that is better than beauty,' she thought, with sisterly
admiration; and then she asked her mother if she did not think Percival
looked a little pale.

'He works too hard,' she continued; 'and he will not break himself of
his old bachelor habit of sitting up late.'

'Men like their own way; you must not be too anxious,' retorted Mrs.
Ross tranquilly. 'When I first married, I worried myself dreadfully
about your father; but I soon found it was no use. And look at him now;
late hours have not hurt him in the least. No one has better health than
your father.'

But the young wife was only half comforted.

'My father's constitution is different,' she returned. 'Percival is
strong; but his nerves are irritable; his organisation is more
sensitive. It is burning both ends of the candle. I tell him he uses
himself up too lavishly.'

'I used to say much the same things to your father, but he soon cured
me. He asked me once why I was so bent on bringing him round to my
opinions. "I do not try to alter yours," I remember he said once, in his
half-joking way. "I do not ask you to sit up with me; though, no doubt,
that is part of your wifely duty. I allow you to go to bed when you are
sleepy, in the most unselfish way. So, my dear, you must allow me the
same liberty of action." And, would you believe it, I never dared say
another word to him on the subject.'

'You are a model wife, are you not, mother?' observed Audrey
caressingly.

'No, dear; I never deserved your father,' returned Mrs. Ross, with much
feeling, and the tears started to her eyes. 'If only my girls could have
as happy a life! I am sure dear Geraldine has done well for
herself--Percival makes her an excellent hus