University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.

“What ails you, my dear?” inquired Robert
Barclay of his wife, as she sat thoughtfully,
twirling her tea-cup. “You seem, of late, very
uninterested in my conversation. Has any
thing gone wrong with you to-day?”

“No, nothing in particular to-day!” she replied,
with an emphasis. “I have been thinking
the same thing over and over again for
some weeks; and is not that about as long as
you have noticed my abstracted manner?”

“Well, well, do let us know what the secret
is,” said the half-irritated husband; “for this
playing upon words, and inquiries about this
and that state of mind, is poor business for man
and wife; and, for mercy's sake, do let us
abandon it now and forever. So tell me, Hepsy,
at once, what you are brooding over.”

“Well, then, if you would know all (and you
may as well, I suppose),” said the troubled wife
and mother, “it was about a month ago I
was dreadfully vexed with my cook and chamber-maid.
You know when Polly and Sally
had that `flare up'—you remember Miss Jones
was staying with us; and, as we sat descanting
upon the trials of housekeeping, she said to
me that `she wondered I had half the patience
I have; and were I in your cap,' said she, `I
never would suffer such annoyances; for half
what it costs you now you might board out,
and rid yourself of such troublesome scenes as
those you have been over to-day. I know ladies,'
she said, `who never pretend to rule their
husbands—only in this matter of housekeeping,
and there they protest they will reign; and
as we live but one life,' said Miss Jones, `I am
for making people as comfortable as I can
while we stay here.' Now, husband, I confess
this did put a new wrinkle in my head, as old
grand-mother Lawrence used to say when a
new idea struck her. I have thought the

matter over and over since then, as I just remarked,
and I must say I am much disposed to
try the experiment. What say you? Come,
speak just as you think, for I have been frank
with you, husband.”

“Oh dear!” sighed out Mr. Barclay, “I am
sorry such a whim has got in your head, for I
see the result of it from beginning to end.
Now, I suppose, not a thing will take a crooked
direction in kitchen, parlor, or nursery, but
boarding out will be the panacea. Why, just
look at things as they are, wife, and I think I
can convince you that I am as good a reasoner
as Fanny Jones, your adviser.”

“Don't reflect on her, husband; she would
die if she thought you supposed a silly whim
was put in my head by her; besides, she is not
the only person of that mind. Do see Mrs.
Bond, with her four children, at board: there
she sits, with every attention; nothing to do unless
she chooses, never troubled about servants,
and always in full dress to see any one who
calls, while I am a mere drudge. If I ring a

bell, ten chances to one the girl is on the shed,
or cleaning the knives in the cellar; and yet
there are the wages, amounting to three dollars
a week, exclusive of board. Were I to urge
nothing but motives of economy, Mr. Barclay,
it seems to me the change must meet your
wishes.”

“Economy!” retorted Mr. Barclay; “that
is a good word, but it must be applied to good
uses, wife. You talk very foolishly, let me tell
you. When one boards, who takes care of the
children? who pays for the little attentions you
receive? who does the washing, and ironing,
and cooking?”

“Why, the landlord or landlady sees to getting
it done, to be sure; I have no care if I
board,” still reasoned Mrs. Barclay.

“But I pay the bills, my dear. How much
do you suppose the Mr. Bond you just quoted
pays for himself, wife, four children, and nursery-woman?”

“Why, really, husband, I don't know; perhaps—it
may be something like—fifteen dollars
a week.”

“Just double that sum, Mrs. Barclay, and
you have it. He was speaking to me of his
expenses last spring, and remarked, that, could
he find an eligible house, he should return to
housekeeping, for the very reason you assign
for surrendering it, viz., economy!”

Mrs. Barclay resumed her sewing, Mr. Barclay
read the evening paper, a friend came in
to pass the evening, and thus ended the first
dialogue of this worthy pair.

But once get a notion thoroughly in a woman's
head, and she will cling to it like ivy to the
oak! You may think you have reasoned it
away, that she will calmly sit down and do as
you desire; but if she is not fully convinced,
the idea will revive, and gain double weight at
every fresh glancing she gives it, especially if
her personal ease is concerned. As I would preface,
however, all women are not so; but the
majority, who have been vexed, will avail
themselves of a loophole to get out of the
trouble.

Mr. Barclay thought for some days he had

silenced his other half; not a word was said
about “help,” or “children,” or “disorder.”
The in-door arrangement worked finely; but
there used to be an old adage, “After a calm
there comes a storm,” and vice versâ. Mrs.
Barclay had been out much of late; she urged
the plea that she had many friends to whom
she was indebted for calls, and resolved to remain
their debtor no longer. Among these,
foremost on the list stood those who boarded.
Not one of these did she neglect; and in no
case did she have to reproach herself that she
had not inquired their opinions and preferences
between boarding and housekeeping; and although
sometimes the recital was not altogether
favorable to her wishes, she adroitly
managed so to forget and remember, that the
balance was always struck in favor of boarding.