"Now," said she, "I am in equal need of a good stove in my sitting room, and I would like the pipes of both stoves to lead into dumb stoves above, and thus heat two or three rooms upstairs for my children to play in, as they have no place except the sitting room, where they must be always with me; but I suppose it is not best to do too much at one time." "On the contrary," I replied, "as your husband is wealthy, you had better get all you really need now.

Mr.S.will probably be no more surprised with two stoves than with one, and, as you expect a hot scene over the matter, the more you get out of it the better." So the stoves and pipes were ordered, holes cut through the ceiling, and all were in working order next day.

The cook was delighted over her splendid stove and shining tins, copper-bottomed tea kettle and boiler, and warm sleeping room upstairs; the children were delighted with their large playrooms, and madam jubilant with her added comforts and that newborn feeling of independence one has in assuming responsibility.
She was expecting Mr.S.home in the holidays, and occasionally weakened at the prospect of what she feared might be a disagreeable encounter.

At such times she came to consult with me, as to what she would say and do when the crisis arrived.

Having studied the _genus homo_ alike on the divine heights of exaltation and in the valleys of humiliation, I was able to make some valuable suggestions.
"Now," said I, "when your husband explodes, as you think he will, neither say nor do anything; sit and gaze out of the window with that far-away, sad look women know so well how to affect.