Mrs. Eldred was not entirely ignorant of the duties expected from a
minister's wife, but she had resolved, as far as she was concerned,
to ignore them. Because she had married a minister was no sign that
she was to be subject to the whims of a whole parish; she could
consider herself bound by no rules that did not apply equally as well
to every other member of the church. Her mother had forewarned her,
and advised her to this course:

"A minister's wife, my dear," said the worldly-wise mother, "is
usually a slave. So just put your foot down in the beginning, and
don't wear yourself out. Enjoy yourself all you can. Poor child! it
is a dismal life at best that you have chosen for yourself, I fear."

Mrs. Eldred did not state her peculiar views to her husband, by any
means; she should just quietly carry out her plans, and he would
learn to submit in time. Mother said that was the way to manage a
husband.

It was Thursday night. The first bell for prayer-meeting was ringing
when Mr. Eldred came down from his study. His young wife sat under
the drop-light cosily established in a large easy-chair, absorbed in
the last number of Scribner. She was robed in a white flannel
wrapper, and her long, fair hair was unbound, lying in bright waves
about her shoulders. Mr. Eldred contemplated the pretty picture a
moment, then he said:

"You look comfortable, my dear: but do you know that is the first
bell for prayer meeting?"

"Oh, I am not going to meeting. I am perfectly delighted to have an