dance and make herself pretty for all the world to see; not to keep
house for a quiet man like me. Idleness wasn't good for her, it bred
discontent; then some of her old friends, who'd left her in her
trouble, found her out when better times came round, and tried to
get her back again. I was away all day, I didn't know how things
were going, and she wasn't open with me, afraid, she said; I was so
grave, and hated theatres so. She got courage, finally, to tell me
that she wasn't happy; that she wanted to dance again, and asked me
if she mightn't. I'd rather have had her ask me to put her in a
fire, for I _did_ hate theatres, and was bred to; others think
they're no harm. I do; and knew it was a bad life for a girl like
mine. It pampers vanity, and vanity is the Devil's help with such;
so I said No, kindly at first, sharp and stern when she kept on
teasing. That roused her spirit. 'I will go!' she said, one day.
'Not while you're my wife,' I answered back; and neither said any
more, but she gave me a look I didn't think she could, and I
resolved to take her away from temptation before worse came of it.

"I didn't tell her my plan; but I resigned my place, spent a week or
more finding and fixing a little home for her out in the wholesome
country, where she'd be safe from theatres and disreputable friends,
and maybe learn to love me better when she saw how much she was to
me. It was coming summer, and I made things look as home-like and as
pretty as I could. She liked flowers, and I fixed a garden for her;
she was fond of pets, and I got her a bird, a kitten, and a dog to
play with her; she fancied gay colors and tasty little matters, so I
filled her rooms with all the handsome things I could afford, and
when it was done, I was as pleased as any boy, thinking what happy
times we'd have together and how pleased she'd be. Boys, when I went
to tell her and to take her to her little home, she was gone."