To Katherine Carr, on the occasion of her approaching bridal,
from her affectionate teacher,

MarianneNipson.

1 Timothy, ii. 11.

Clover at once ran to fetch her Testament that she might verify the quotation, and announced with a shriek of laughter that it was:  “Let the women learn in silence with all subjection;” while Katy, much diverted, read extracts casually selected from the work, such as:  “A wife should receive her husband’s decree without cavil or question, remembering that the husband is the head of the wife, and that in all matters of dispute his opinion naturally and scripturally outweighs her own.”

Or:  “‘A soft answer turneth away wrath.’  If your husband comes home fretted and impatient, do not answer him sharply, but soothe him with gentle words and caresses.  Strict attention to the minor details of domestic management will often avail to secure peace.”

And again:  “Keep in mind the epitaph raised in honor of an exemplary wife of the last century,—­’She never banged the door.’  Qualify yourself for a similar testimonial.”

“Tanta never does bang doors,” remarked Amy, who had come in as this last “elegant extract” was being read.

“No, that’s true; she doesn’t,” said Clover.  “Her prevailing vice is to leave them open.  I like that truth about a good dinner ‘availing’ to secure peace, and the advice to ‘caress’ your bear when he is at his crossest.  Ned never does issue ‘decrees,’ though, I fancy; and on the whole, Katy, I don’t believe Mrs. Nipson’s present is going to be any particular comfort in your future trials.  Do read something else to take the taste out of our mouths.  We will listen in ‘all subjection.’”

Katy was already deep in a long epistle from Rose.

“This is too delicious,” she said; “do listen.”  And she began again at the beginning:—­

My sweetest of all old Sweets,—­Come to your wedding!  Of course I shall.  It would never seem to me to have any legal sanction whatever if I were not there to add my blessing.  Only let me know which day “early in June” it is to be, that I may make ready.  Deniston will fetch us on, and by a special piece of good luck, a man in Chicago—­whose name I shall always bless if only I can remember what it is—­has been instigated by our mutual good angel to want him on business just about that time; so that he would have to go West anyway, and would rather have me along than not, and is perfectly resigned to his fate.  I mean to come three days before, and stay three days after the wedding, if I may, and altogether it is going to be a lark of larks.  Little Rose can talk quite fluently now, and almost read; that is, she knows six letters of her picture alphabet.  She composes poems also.  The other day she suddenly announced,—­

“Mamma, I have made up a sort of a im.  May I say it to you?”