husband of you, a fashionable woman. I am simply resolved to have no
more such tomfoolery in my house."

"Dear Mr. P.," said I, "you'll feel much better when you have
slept. Besides, why do you say such things? Mustn't we see our
friends, I should like to know; and if we do, are you going to let
your wife receive them in a manner inferior to old Mrs. Podge or
Mrs. Croesus? People will accuse you of meanness, and of treating me
ill; and if some persons hear that you have reduced your style of
living, they will begin to suspect the state of your affairs. Don't
make any rash vows, Mr. P.," said I, "but go to sleep."

(Do you know that speech was just what Mrs. Croesus told me she had
said to her husband under similar circumstances?)

Mr. P. fairly groaned, and I heard that short, strong little word that
sometimes inadvertently drops out of the best regulated mouths, as
young Gooseberry Downe says when he swears before his mother. Do you
know Mrs. Settum Downe? Charming woman, but satirical.

Mr. P. groaned, and said some more ill-natured things, until the clock
struck nine, and he was obliged to get up. I should be sorry to say to
anybody but you, dearest, that I was rather glad of it; for I could
then fall asleep at my ease; and these little connubial felicities (I
think they call them) are so tiresome. But everybody agreed it was a
beautiful ball; and I had the great gratification of hearing young
Lord Mount Ague (you know you danced with him, love) say that it was
quite the same thing as a ball at Buckingham Palace, except, of
course, in size, and the number of persons, and dresses, and jewels,
and the plate, and glass, and supper, and wines, and furnishing of the