 | CHAPTER II. "Boarding out" |  |
2. CHAPTER II.
“And so you feel no reluctance, wife, to giving
up this convenient house, with its finely-warmed
apartments; the bathing apparatus;
the library, with its shelves so laden with books
to amuse, to instruct, and divert you; the conveniences
of good closet-room, and those spare
chambers, where your friends are so well accommodated;
the commodious yard, the fine
prospect of the surrounding country, and all
the many advantages which this residence possesses,
and which you were so anxious I should
procure?”
“No,” said Mrs. Barclay, “not any.”
“And it will be a foolish waste of words for
me to urge the advantages we now possess
over a boarding-house; where the house is
another's, where you are circumscribed in
room, where the children are to be kept in
one apartment, and, instead of hospitality, no
uncertainty, dire uncertainty of getting apartments
where a comfortable home and a pleasant
landlady, and agreeable boarders are all
combined. You say, wife, you do not shrink
from this trial, if you can but forego the great
one of housekeeping.”
“If, husband, you only knew what I do of
the little daily vexations of living as we do, I
am sure you would not talk thus. But how
can you know? There you are at your store
from breakfast to dinner, from dinner to supper,
and the hour or two of relaxation you take
at home is undoubtedly pleasant. But what
can you know of my vexations? There I am,
cooped up in the nursery nearly two whole
days every week with the children; for Sally
is so slow with her washing and ironing, and
so talkative with Polly, that all my hurrying
her does no good; and then there are so many
stitches to be taken after all the seamstress
does, and so much fault-finding in the kitchen
because this or that thing is wanting, that I do,
where you say, town or country, if you will
but let me make the trial. If not, my health
will be ruined. I wonder you don't see how
fast I change; all my acquaintances tell me so;
and dear mother used to say, `Oh, Hepsy, your
cares will be the death of you!' Poor woman!
I realize it now you are dead.”
Mr. Barclay bit his lips, but he was a prudent
man, and saw plainly the die was cast.
He knew the temperament of his wife—head-strong,
and not used to much contradiction;
and as he always contended that a woman
ought to rule in her own house, he now plainly
saw that submission was the better part of
valor. Coming home not more than a week
after he saw his fate, he brought in an auctioneer
in a quiet manner, to ask his opinion how
it was best to dispose of his furniture. Mrs.
Barclay came down stairs, and the following
conversation was heard:
“Mrs. Barclay,” said the man of the hammer,
“I think I should dislike to risk some of
which compose an auction; it is against my
interest to advise thus, but I do dislike to
`knock off' to a second-hand dealer the rich
and tasteful articles in a well-selected drawing-room,
library, &c., at less than half the cost.
I was suggesting to Mr. Barclay that perhaps
you had better keep those pictures, and that
suit of damask curtains. If you intend boarding,
be assured you will need many articles to
which you are accustomed; for I do not
believe a more merciless set of people are
found than your `first-rate” boarding-house
landlords. I have had experience in these matters,
and, of course, as I give advice unasked,
it is gratis. But, pray, let me ask your reasons
for surrendering this beautiful establishment?
Your husband is prosperous and rich; no mortgages
or assignee's sale is here.” He paused
for an answer.
“My health, sir, requires the surrender.”
“Oh! ah!” said our kind adviser; “then take
a voyage to Europe, or pass the winter in Cuba
or Savannah.”
“But my children, sir—”
“No, Mr. G—,” said Mr. Barclay, “it is
a freak my wife has taken to board! I opposed
it at first with all my might, but have
now concluded to let her have her way; and
although it will subject me to many trials, in
no better way than experience can I show her
the folly of her course.”
“Well, well,” chuckled the auctioneer, “you
will give me a good job by the means, for which
I give Mrs. Barclay my most profound thanks;”
and, with a graceful bow, he left the house.
| CHAPTER II. "Boarding out" | |