THE INVALID WIFE.

“MY poor head!  It seems as if it would burst!” murmured Mrs. Bain, as she arose from a stooping position, and clasped her temples with both hands.  She was engaged in dressing a restless, fretful child, some two or three years old.  Two children had been washed and dressed, and this was the last to be made ready for breakfast.

As Mrs. Bain stood, with pale face, closed eyes, and tightly compressed lips, still clasping her throbbing temples, the bell announcing the morning meal was rung.  The sound caused her to start, and she said, in a low and fretful voice—­

“There’s the breakfast bell; and Charley isn’t ready yet; nor have I combed my hair.  How my head does ache!  I am almost blind with the pain.”

Then she resumed her work of dressing Charley, who struggled, cried, and resisted, until she was done.

Mr. Bain was already up and dressed.  He was seated in the parlour, enjoying his morning paper, when the breakfast bell rang.  The moment he heard the sound, he threw down his newspaper, and, leaving the parlour, ascended to the dining-room.  His two oldest children were there, ready to take their places at the table.

“Where’s your mother?” he inquired of one of them.

“She’s dressing Charley,” was answered.

“Never ready in time,” said Mr. Bain, to himself, impatiently.  He spoke in an under tone.

For a few moments he stood with his hands on the back of his chair.  Then he walked twice the length of the dining-room; and then he went to the door and called—­

“Jane!  Jane!  Breakfast is on the table.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” was replied by Mrs. Bain.

“Oh, yes!  I know something about your minutes.”  Mr. Bain said this to himself.  “This never being in time annoys me terribly.  I’m always ready.  I’m always up to time.  But there’s no regard to time in this house.”

Mrs. Bain was still struggling with her cross and troublesome child, when the voice of her impatient husband reached her.  The sound caused a throb of intenser pain to pass through her aching head.

“Jane, make haste!  Breakfast is all getting cold, and I’m in a hurry to go away to business,” was called once more.

“Do have a little patience.  I’ll be there in a moment,” replied Mrs. Bain.”

“A moment!  This is always the way.”

And Mr. Bain once more paced backwards and forwards.

Meantime the wife hurriedly completed her own toilet, and then repaired to the dining-room.  She was just five minutes too late.

One glance at her pale, suffering face should have changed to sympathy and pity the ill-humour of her thoughtless, impatient husband.  But it was not so.  The moment she appeared, he said—­

“This is too bad, Jane!  I’ve told you, over and over, that I don’t like to wait after the bell rings.  My mother was always promptly at her place, and I’d like my wife to imitate so good an example.”