wife were in positions of direct antagonism. Lane could not give up
his love of controlling every thing around him, and his wife, fairly
roused to opposition, followed the promptings of her own will, in
matters where right was clearly on her side, with a quiet
perseverance that always succeeded. Of course, they were often made
unhappy; yet enough forbearance existed on both sides to prevent an
open rupture--at least, for a time. That, however, came at last, and
was the more violent from the long accumulation of reactive forces.

The particulars of this rupture we need not give; it arose in a
dispute about the child when she was two years old. As usual, Lane
had attempted to set aside the judgment of his wife in something
pertaining to the child, as inferior to his own, and she had not
submitted. Warm words ensued, in which he said a good deal about a
wife's knowing her place and keeping it.

"I am not your slave!" said Amanda, indignantly; the cutting words
of her husband throwing her off her guard.

"You are my wife," he calmly and half contemptuously replied; "and,
as such, are bound to submit yourself to your husband."

"To my husband's intelligence, not to his mere will," answered
Amanda, less warmly, but more resolutely than at first.

"Yes, to his will!" said Lane, growing blind from anger.

"That I have done long enough," returned the wife. "But the time is
past now. By your intelligence, when I see in it superior light to
what exists in my own, I will be guided, but, by your will--never!"