Now I held
him only with a silken fetter, and guided him, without really
intending to do so, in almost any direction.
Several years have passed since that ever-to-be-remembered, happy
visit to Cape May. Not once since have I attempted any management of
my husband, and yet it is a rare thing that my wish is not, as it
used to be before we were married, his law. It is wonderful, too,
how he has improved. I am sure he is not the same man that he was
five years ago. But, perhaps, I see with different eyes. At any
rate, I am not the same woman; or, if the same, very unlike what I
then was.
So much for my efforts to manage a husband. Of the three ways so
faithfully tried, my fair readers will be at no loss to determine
which is best. I make these honest confessions for the good of my
sex. My husband, Mr. John Smith, will be no little surprised if this
history should meet his eye. But I do not believe it will interrupt
the present harmonious relations existing between us, but rather
tend to confirm and strengthen them.
RULING A WIFE.
AS a lover, Henry Lane was the kindest, most devoted,
self-sacrificing person imaginable. He appeared really to have no
will of his own, so entire was his deference to his beautiful
Amanda; yet, for all this, he had no very high opinion of her as an
intelligent being.
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