to be disregardful of my wishes, careless of my comfort, and indifferent to my society.  Still I felt by no means inclined to give him up; was by no means disposed to let him have his own way.  It was clear to my mind that I had rights as well as he had; and I possessed resolution enough to be ready to maintain them.  His self-will and indifference to my wishes roused in me a bitter and contentious spirit; and, in an evil hour, I determined that I would make a struggle for the mastery.  An opportunity was not long delayed.  The Philharmonic Society had announced one of its splendid concerts.  A lady friend, who had frequently attended these concerts, called in to see me, and, by what she said, filled me with a desire to enjoy the fine musical treat that had been announced for that very evening.

When Mr. Smith came home at dinner he said, before I had time to mention the concert—­

“Mary, I’ve taken a fancy to go and see Fanny Ellsler to-night, and, as there will be no chance of getting a good seat this afternoon, I took the precaution to secure tickets as I came home to dinner.  I would have sent the porter with a note to know whether there was any thing to prevent your going to-night, but he has been out all the morning, and I concluded that, even if there should be some slight impediment in the way, you could easily set it aside.”

Now this I thought too much.  To go and buy tickets to see Fanny Ellsler dance, and take it for granted that I would lay every thing aside to go, when I had set my heart on attending the Philharmonic concert!

“You are a strange man, Mr. Smith,” said I. You ought to know that I don’t care a fig about seeing Fanny Ellsler.  I don’t relish such kind of performances.  You at least might have waited until you came home to dinner and asked the question.  I don’t believe a word about the good seats all being taken this morning.  But it’s just like you!  To go and see this dancers toss her feet about was a thing you had made up your mind to do, and I was to go along whether I liked it or not.”

“You talk in rather a strange way, Mrs. Smith,” said my husband, evidently offended.

“I don’t see that I do,” replied I, warming.  “The fact is, Mr. Smith, you seem to take it for granted that I am nobody.  Here I’ve been making all my calculations to go to the Philharmonic to-night, and you come home with tickets for the theatre!  But I can tell you plainly that I am not going to see Fanny Ellsler, and that I am going to the Philharmonic.”

This was taking a stand that I had never taken before.  In most of my efforts to make my husband go my way, he had succeeded in making me go his way.  This always chafed me dreadfully.  I fretted and scolded, and “all that sort of thing,” but it was no use, I could not manage him.  The direct issue of “I won’t” and “I will” had not yet been made, and I was some time in coming to the resolution to have a struggle, fiercer than ever, for the ascendency.  I fondly believed that for peace’ sake he would not stand firm if he saw me resolute.  Under this view of the case, I made the open averment that I would not go to the theatre.  I expected that a scene would follow, but I was mistaken.  Mr. Smith did, indeed, open his eyes a little wider, but he said nothing.