made up your mind to do, and I was to go along whether I liked it or
not."

"You talk in rather a strange way, Mrs. Smith," said my husband,
evidently offended.

"I don't see that I do," replied I, warming. "The fact is, Mr.
Smith, you seem to take it for granted that I am nobody. Here I've
been making all my calculations to go to the Philharmonic to-night,
and you come home with tickets for the theatre! But I can tell you
plainly that I am _not_ going to see Fanny Ellsler, and that I _am_
going to the Philharmonic."

This was taking a stand that I had never taken before. In most of my
efforts to make my husband go my way, he had succeeded in making me
go his way. This always chafed me dreadfully. I fretted and scolded,
and "all that sort of thing," but it was no use, I could not manage
him. The direct issue of "I won't" and "I will" had not yet been
made, and I was some time in coming to the resolution to have a
struggle, fiercer than ever, for the ascendency. I fondly believed
that for peace' sake he would not stand firm if he saw me resolute.
Under this view of the case, I made the open averment that I would
not go to the theatre. I expected that a scene would follow, but I
was mistaken. Mr. Smith did, indeed, open his eyes a little wider,
but he said nothing.

Just then the bell announced that dinner was on the table. Mr. Smith
arose and led the way to the dinner-room with a firm step. Before we
were married he wouldn't have dreamed of thus preceding me! I was
fretted at this little act. It indicated too plainly what was in the