envelope addressed to him.

'If he is not altogether blinded, it will show him how cruelly he
has wronged me,' said she to her sister. She was sitting at the time
with her boy in her lap, telling herself that the child's features
were in all respects the very same as his father's, and that, come
what come might, the child should always be taught by her to love
and respect his father. And then there came a horrible thought.
What if the child should be taken away from her? If this quarrel,
out of which she saw no present mode of escape, were to lead to
a separation between her and her husband, would not the law, and
the judges, and the courts, and all the Lady Milboroughs of their
joint acquaintance into the bargain, say that the child should go
with his father? The judges, and the courts, and the Lady Milboroughs
would, of course, say that she was the sinner. And what could she
do without her boy? Would not any humility, any grovelling in the
dust be better for her than that? 'It is a very poor thing to be
a woman,' she said to her sister.

'It is perhaps better than being a dog,' said Nora; 'but, of course,
we can't compare ourselves to men.'

'It would be better to be a dog. One wouldn't be made to suffer so
much. When a puppy is taken away from its mother, she is bad enough
for a few days, but she gets over it in a week.' There was a pause
then for a few moments. Nora knew well which way ran the current
of her sister's thoughts, and had nothing at the present moment
which she could say on that subject.

'It is very hard for a woman to know what to do,' continued Emily,