"And I am going to the Philharmonic. I thought you understood that,"
I replied, with equal resolution.

"Oh! very well," said he, not seeming to be at all disturbed. "Then
you can use the carriage at the door. I will walk to the theatre."

Saying this, Mr. Smith turned from me deliberately and walked away.
I heard him tell the driver of the carriage to take me to the
Musical Fund Hall; then I heard the street-door close, and then I
heard my husband's footsteps on the pavement as he left the house.
Without hesitating a moment for reflection, I followed to the door,
entered the carriage, and ordered the man to drive me--where? I had
no ticket for the concert; nor could I go alone!

"To the Musical Fund Hall, I believe, madam," he said, standing with
his fingers touching the rim of his hat.

I tried to think what I should do. To be conquered was hard. And it
was clear that I could not go alone.

"No," I replied, grasping hold of the first suggestion that came to
my mind. "Drive me to No.--Walnut street."

I had directed him to the house of my sister, where I thought I
would stay until after eleven o'clock, and then return home, leaving
my husband to infer that I had been to the concert. But long before
I had reached my sister's house, I felt so miserable that I deemed
it best to call out of the window to the driver, and direct him to
return. On arriving at home, some twenty minutes after I had left
it, I went up to my chamber, and there had a hearty crying spell to