him better; indeed, the clothes were new. Mrs. Dale no longer remarked
that the buttons were off the wristbands, which was a great satisfaction
to her. But the sage still remained faithful to the pipe, the cloak, and
the red silk umbrella. Mrs. Riccabocca had (to her credit be it spoken)
used all becoming and wife-like arts against these three remnants of the
old bachelor, Adam, but in vain. "/Anima mia/," [Soul of mine]--said the
doctor, tenderly, "I hold the cloak, the umbrella, and the pipe as the
sole relics that remain to me of my native country. Respect and spare
them."

Mrs. Riccabocca was touched, and had the good sense to perceive that man,
let him be ever so much married, retains certain signs of his ancient
independence,--certain tokens of his old identity, which a wife, the most
despotic, will do well to concede. She conceded the cloak, she submitted
to the umbrella, she overcame her abhorrence of the pipe. After all,
considering the natural villany of our sex, she confessed to herself that
she might have been worse off. But through all the calm and cheerfulness
of Riccabocca, a nervous perturbation was sufficiently perceptible; it
commenced after the second week of marriage; it went on increasing, till
one bright sunny afternoon, as he was standing on his terrace, gazing
down upon the road, at which Jackeymo was placed, lo, a stage-coach
stopped! The doctor made a bound, and put both hands to his heart as if
he had been shot; he then leaped over the balustrade, and his wife from
her window beheld him flying down the hill, with his long hair streaming
in the wind, till the trees hid him from her sight.

"Ah," thought she, with a natural pang of conjugal jealousy, "henceforth
I am only second in his home. He has gone to welcome his child!" And at
that reflection Mrs. Riccabocca shed tears.