MEN AT HOME:

OR THE PRETTY MAN-HATER.

———

BY MRS. C. B. MARSTON.

———

What droll scenes hobgoblins and sprites catch a peep at, in their perambulations through this ludicrous world of ours!

Now we, poor mortals, rarely stumble upon any thing funny, because, forsooth, we must ring the bell, or knock at the door, and then people throw themselves into proper positions and put on their company faces, and the farce is at an end. No human being, for instance, could have walked, unannounced, into Miss Ariana Huntingdon’s boudoir, on that morning when Mr. Atherton Burney was kneeling at her feet, but the merry sprites gathered around, and it is a wonder that he did not hear them shout:

“Ha! ha! the wooing o’t.”

Mr. Burney’s courtship was by no means a premeditated affair. Who ever thinks exactlyhowhe shall tell pleasant news? Such, that gentleman thought, would be the intelligence of his most honorable preference. And now that Miss Ariana looked coldly on his suit, he was lost in wonder at the blindness to her own interest which she exhibited. Like most men, he never dreamed that a refusal could arise from personal dislike, and while wounded pride turned his attempt at a pathetic face into a wry one, he desired to know the motives which had induced so uncomplimentary a decision.

Miss Ariana’s face wore the expression of Sir Joshua Reynold’s “Mucipula,” excepting that it said, “I have caught a man!” instead of “a mouse;” but she remembered that a respectable offer must be respectfully treated, and covering the smile lurking around her mouth with one of her plump little hands, she looked as gravely as she could from out her mischievous hazel eyes. It might have been nervousness which kept her tiny foot in motion, but it seemed very like a desire to make a football of her kneeling suitor.

“I have two reasons, sir,” she said, “for declining the honor you intended me. The first is, I have determined not to marry at all, and the second, that you are by no means the person likely to make me change this resolution.”

Had Mr. Burney been practicing that exercise in gymnastics, by which one rises at a single jerk from a horizontal to an upright position, he could not more suddenly have changed his suppliant attitude to the most rigid of perpendiculars.

“Madam,” he replied, in that husky voice which men in a passion assume when trying to appear cool. “Madam, the first reason is so singular for a person in your situation, that the second excites no surprise.”

Ariana was an orphan and dependent upon her brothers-in-law. Herpiquanteface exhibited no irritation at this insulting remark; although the motion of her pugnacious little foot was somewhat quickened, a merry laugh was the only rejoinder.

Mr. Atherton Burney was prepared for a burst of indignant scorn, but he found no words to express his surprise and indignation at this ill-timed mirth; he wheeled round as if on drill, “right about face,” and made a “forward march,” which did not terminate till he found himself, hat in hand, upon the pavement of Washington Square. His head and his temper being by this time a little cooled, his few scattering brains were again packed in their narrow-brimmed receptacle, and none who met Mr. Atherton Burney that day on the pavé, suspected that behind his elegant moustache a refusal was sticking in his throat.

——

No two persons are more dissimilar than a gentleman dining-out, and the same individual quietly taking a family dinner at home. The smiling guest has a keen relish for every article placed before him, and should the rules of etiquette not allow him to express his gratification in words, he manifests in every possible way his entire approbation of the cuisine of his host.

Mr. Andrew Dormer was a favorite guest at the tables of his wealthy fellow-citizens. His perfect suavity of manner, his keen appreciation of gastronomic art, and his skillful carving, won greater favor than would the possession of the richest treasures of learning or the highest intellectual endowments. “A clever fellow,” was Andrew Dormer when dining out. But, whereas the rules of society require that a guest should be pleased with every thing, the modern social economy demands that the master of a family should, at home, be pleased with nothing. The forementioned sprites of the air who attended at the family dinners of the Dormers, were beginning to look a little glum; the only bright things to be seen on these occasions were the polished knives and Miss Ariana’s eyes.

The door had scarcely closed after the exit of Mr. Atherton Burney, when the shuffling and stamping were heard by which the lord of the mansion was wont to announce his arrival. Before the meek Mrs. Dormer obtained a view of that redoubtable personage, a scolding soliloquy fell upon her trembling ear.

“Nothing ever in order in this house! A mat I bought only a month ago, all torn to rags! Smell of dinner coming all the way to the front door! Over-done! Knew it by the first snuff! Bad servants! All this comes of a careless mistress. Harriet! Harriet, I say!”

“What is it, Andrew?” inquired the soft voice of Mrs. Dormer, as she put her head timidly out of the dining-room door.

“Nothing in this house but rack and ruin,” exclaimedMr. Dormer, dashing more vinegar into his tone and manner than either the occasion or his own feelings required. “What’s the use of buying any thing, I say, if this is the way it is to be treated?” And he pointed at the mat, which his own outrageous stamping had torn to tatters.

Ariana had the same instinctive knowledge of a family feud as the war-horse has of a battle, and rushed to the charge in her sister’s defense.

“What!” she exclaimed, “all that hemp left of the mat you have tried so faithfully to annihilate! When I heard your last furious attack, I did not think there would be a single shred remaining in the shape of a mat.”

Such a beseeching look as Mrs. Dormer gave Ariana as she herself stood trembling in her shoes!

What was the reason, that instead of becoming indignant at the impertinence of his sister-in-law, Mr. Dormer tried to look amiable? It might have been that he read that mischievous glance, which said, “Ignoble ambition to be a triton among ‘minnows.’ ”

If Ariana had not been dependent she would have been less saucy, but so fearful was she of becoming cringing from interested motives, that she went to the other extreme, and dared

“To beard the lion in his den.”

The brother-in-law could no more dispense with her racy society, than with pungent sauces for his piscatory favorites. Instead of becoming angry when Ariana declared that she had seen too much of men at home ever to marry, he was heartily glad of a determination which insured the continuance under his roof of his merry antagonist.

Never was married woman so wretched herself that she discouraged matrimony among her young relatives and friends. Scarcely were the Dormers seated at dinner, and the first outbreak of invectives against cook, waiter and market-woman at an end, than the meek Harriet remarked, with an attempt at the playfulness for which she was distinguished before broken to the hymenial yoke: “Ariana, you had better have the ham placed before you, that you may learn to carve, as I suspect from the visit which you received this morning that you will soon be at the head of your own table.”

Mr. Dormer checked the grimace by which he was expressing disgust at the over-done mutton before him, and stared, but ventured not a question.

“Never more mistaken in your life, sister. Mr. Dormer cannot spare me,” was Ariana’s laughing reply; “he would burst a blood-vessel in one of his fury-fits, if I were not here to soothe him.”

“Am I such a tyrant then?” asked Mr. Dormer, in nearly as humble a tone as his wife would have used.

“A very despot; but not worse at heart than most men. There is scarcely one who does not revenge himself for the rude world’s buffetings, by inflicting all sorts of petty annoyances upon those at home,” was the calm reply.

“You will certainly be an old maid, Ariana,” remarked Mrs. Dormer, as she cast a furtive glance at the engrossing object of all her thoughts.

“A consummation devoutly to be wished,” said Ariana, smiling at the fearful tone in which the remark was made. “I had rather be caged in a menagerie, than obliged from morning to night to listen to the growling of a human tiger.”

“Mr. Atherton Burney is very mild, and only needs a gentle shepherdess to make him perfectly lamb-like,” said Mr. Dormer, with an attempt at sportiveness which reminded his sister of the fabled donkey emulating the lap-dog’s playfulness.

“I never liked pastorals,” she began, but the time for joking was at an end.

The servant, in handing Mr. Dormer a glass of water, spilled part of the contents upon his plate, and stood trembling at the angry rebuke which his carelessness had called forth.

“Misnamed lords of creation,” thought Ariana for the hundredth time, as she saw what a trifle had disturbed her brother’s equanimity.

There was a dead silence for a few moments, only broken by the clatter of knives and forks, and then Mr. Dormer, casting very much such a glance at his sister-in-law as a naughty boy would at his offended mamma, muttered—“the steamer is in to-day and the banks are breaking faster than ever.”

Mrs. Dormer looked sympathetic at this intelligence, and Ariana remarked kindly—“Business troubles you then! It must be very tormenting,” and a suspicion flashed across her mind that men, after all, might sometimes have an excuse for their ill-humor.

“Well, if we are to lose our money, let us keep our temper,” she added, as she rose to leave the table. Then turning to her sister she said—“Don’t sit up for me, Harriet. If I am not at home before nine, I shall stay all night at sister Jane’s—she sent for me to spend the evening with her, and—and you know it is always quite uncertain whether Mr. Daley will be in a humor to escort me home.”

——

“If I were only sure that fishes did not feel, I should not mind hooking them,” said a lad of tender heart.

Miss Ariana Huntingdon was convinced that men did not feel, and therefore had not theslightest scruple in taking captive as many as came within range of her fascinations.

Had the misanthropical little coquette been old, or ugly, the stronger sex would have risen in a body to expel her from the city, but being very young and very pretty, they seemed to love her all the better for her alledged heresy as to man’s supremacy.

“That is one of the most beautiful apparitions that I ever met,” said a young gentleman who caught a glimpse of our heroine upon a fashionable promenade, crowded with insipid faces, whose fair unmeaningness was made more conspicuous from being contrasted with the gayest of colors.

“Ashes of roses” would have been the only appropriate hue for some of thesepassédamsels, of whose bloom certainly but the cinders were remaining, on which the marks of their former beauty were faintly traced in flittering characters.

There was a peculiar freshness and individuality in Ariana’s appearance, arising from her clear, originalintellect, which made her always noticed, even by those who did not admire the piquant style of her beauty. Then her dress, without trespassing upon the mode of the season, bore some tasteful addition, so unique, that it was at once surmised that she must be verydistinguéto be allowed such independence.

“Madame Bonheurie has not a hat trimmed in that manner,” said a characterless parvenu, who could not have afforded even a ribbon without a pedigree.

The article of dress, thus criticised, was a hat of delicate rose-color, but, alas! instead of wearing the stiff top-knots of ribbon which were then in vogue, Ariana had arranged the trimming so as to drop upon one side, without hiding the swan-like throat of itspetitewearer. Her mantle, too, though unexceptionable in the richness and color of the velvet, was but slightly trimmed, and its graceful sleeves were quite unlike the stiff armlets through which some fair ladies’ hands were peeping in unnatural constraint.

Ariana, while smiling sweetly on her acquaintances, so moderated her tokens of favor upon this particular day, that no one stepped to her side to offer their escort, for she was deep in meditation,

“Am I really anxious to be an old maid?” was the question she was revolving in her own mind, and every antiquated maiden whom she met seemed to weigh against the affirmative that an hour since she would have been ready to pronounce.

“Yes,” however, sprung to her lips as she entered the parlor of Professor Daley, or rather study, as it might more appropriately be named. All signs offeminine refinement were neutralised in this uncomfortable apartment by huge piles of books, placed where most convenient for that gentleman.

If Mrs. Daley flew into a passion on the subject, and declared that she had seldom a place where a guest could be seated, he took up another volume, and perhaps, laid the one he had been reading upon the only vacant chair.

“You are the rudest man in the world, Madison,” was Ariana’s involuntary exclamation, as her learned connection gave her a kind ofchin bowwhen she entered the apartment, without appearing to favor her with a single glance.

“That is what I always tell him,” rejoined Jane, who seemed, as is the case with some one in most families, to have absorbed all the spirit intended amply to endow the whole; “read, read, from morning till night. I might as well have no husband.”

Like the boy under stoical tuition, if Mr. Daley had learned nothing else from philosophy, it had enabled him to meet reproach with perfect calmness. It is questionable, however, if that mode of meeting reproach is a virtue, which instead of turning away wrath, infuriates it beyond all bounds. Mr. Daley’s perfect indifference to the happiness of every living thing, was the alkali to the acid of Mrs. Daley’s character, and produced violent fermentation. How cold those blue eyes of his looked through the green spectacles worn to repair the effect of constant study by lamp-light! It would have been well if the carpet could have been defended from the effects of these nocturnal vigils, as many a spot was visible in spite of the constant wear which had reduced the once elastic Brussels to a floor-cloth consistency.

Home, to the man of science, was only a place where the torch of mind was to be re-lighted; his wife, a being who fed it with oil, and her house the mere laboratory used for those supplies of a physical nature which made the ethereal flame burn purer and brighter.

What a pity it is that all who are destined to play the part of cyphers have not a taste for nonentity! Mrs. Daley, as she often told her husband, who, however, had not once seemed to hear the remark, “never dreamed before her marriage that it would come to this.” To be sure he had been a different man as a lover, but it is one of the standing wonders of the world how the wise and great ever condescended to the foolishness of courting; yet philosophers in love are always lamentably absent, and being quite out of their element, flounder away more boisterously than any other kind of fish, but marriage puts them again at ease, and then their cold blood creeps on uninterrupted in its sluggish course.

“Old maid or not old maid,” again passed through Ariana’s mind as her eyes rested on Mr. Daley’s boots, which, in their turn, rested upon the marble mantelpiece.

“Literary men are I presume all just such bears, and men of business like Andrew.” Single-blessedness would have carried the day had not the most finical of her maiden acquaintance arisen to efface the images of the brothers-in-law.

“Do these old books make you happy, Madison Daley?” she asked, when her sister was quite exhausted with the relation of her grievances. The Professor had been caught looking up at the cessation of the sound of his wife’s tongue, which he seemed to have imagined was to be perpetual.

One cannot pretend to deafness as easily when they meet the eye of a questioner, and a cold “Yes,” fell from the thin lips of the philosopher. He instantly resumed reading a “Treatise upon the promotion of individual happiness, as the only certain way of enhancing national prosperity.”

It was a lucky thing for Ariana, that with her quick perception of character she had so strong a love for the ludicrous, for what otherwise might have aroused her indignation now only excited her mirth. The incongruity between Professor Daley’s philanthropic studies and his habitual selfishness, struck her as so droll that she burst into a merry peal of laughter. The astonished glance of the Professor at this sudden merriment said quite plainly, “Is the girl demented?” and Jane’s querulous voice, still more audibly,

“It is easy enough to laugh at other people’s misfortunes! I only wish that I may live to see you married, and yet as much alone and as dependent on your own exertions, as if you had no natural protector.”

Ariana knew by long experience that her sister considered Mr. Daley’s faults as her exclusive property, and wished others to speak of him always as if he were a model of a man. When she spoke in society herself of her learned husband, no one would have dreamed that she had discovered the feet of her idol to be ofclay, but intête-à-têtesshe even insinuated to him that they were slightly cloven.

Ariana had a good share of mother wit, and knew very well the wisdom of exciting a counteracting passion when she had subjected herself to reproof by her open disrespect toward her learned brother-in-law.

“You told me, sister,” she said soothingly, “that you expected company, and my aid would be needed in preparing for their reception.”

All Mrs. Daley’s motions were sudden, and at this remark she started up, exclaiming, “There! I have not given half my orders in the kitchen, and I dare say that the children have put the dining-room all out of order while I have been talking here. Do go and see to them, while I tell Betty what linen to put on the bed in the spare room.”

One would have thought that the dining-room might have been sacred to eating and drinking, but the Professor had insisted on piling the surplus of his library in one corner of this cold, parlor-looking apartment. People have various ideas of comfort, but to Ariana’s eyes the disorder which her pretty little niece and nephew had caused was rather an improvement.

Archie had built a very respectable house out of the Encyclopedias, and a large stone inkstand, which luckily was corked, served very well, when turned upside down, for a parlor centre-table. A smaller one and an accompanying sand-box, from his mother’s escritoir, answered for ottomans, and upon them two table-napkins, with strings round their waists, to improve their figures, were sitting up, quite like ladies and gentlemen.

The bright faces of Archie and Etta wore a troubled expression, at the opening of the door, but it turned to one of unfeigned delight as they both scampered toward Ariana, exclaiming—“Oh, aunty, come and see our pretty baby-house. We have found out such a nice way of using pa’s tiresome old books.”

Like the cat transformed to a lady, who always showed her feline origin at the sight of a mouse, Ariana seemed always to return to childhood when in company with Archie and Etta. Mrs. Daley might as well have set a monkey to keep them out of mischief, for down dropped the moderator on the floor beside the baby-house, and commenced twisting the napkins into most ludicrous imitations of humanity. Etta finding that while her aunty was thus employed, she could get a nice chance at playing with her hair, slily drew out the comb and fell to “turling it” over her little fingers, while Archie clapped his hands and danced about in wild delight at the beauty of the napkin ladies and gentlemen—Hark! there was a footstep in the hall—no! two. The door opened and the Professor, with scarcely a glance at the occupants of the room, thrust into it a tall, fine-looking stranger, and merely saying, “My sister-in-law, Cousin Arthur,” retreated.

Ariana was so much amused at this strange introduction of the visiter, that she scarcely thought of her own disordered appearance.

“So, brother Madison has ejected you, sir, from his study at once,” she said smiling. “His way of making people completely at home is by turning them out of his own door. Do take a seat with us children, and my sister will be here presently.”

Arthur Grayson had a great respect for his cousin, the Professor, having never seen him in domestic life, and only knowing his high reputation among the scientific men of the day. He was ignorant of the reason why Ariana spoke in so disrespectful a tone of so near a connection, and it seemed a want of politeness.

“No beauty can atone for such rudeness,” he thought to himself, but replied courteously, “My cousin probably knew what society I should find most entertaining, and I am glad that he did not allow me to trespass upon his time.”

Before Ariana could answer this remark, Jane emerged from a staircase leading to the kitchen, with a bowl in her hand, exclaiming, “Do, Ariana, stir up this cake.”

In her surprise at the sight of the stranger, the bowl slipped from her hand and fell on the floor, scattering its yet fluid contents in every direction. Our pretty man-hater turned mischievously toward Arthur Grayson, to observe how he bore the bespattering of the very elegant suit of broadcloth in which his unexceptionable form was enveloped, but instead of betraying any marks of irritation, he said with perfect self-command and good-humor, “I presume that the dispenser of such good things can only be that Lady Bountiful, my Cousin Jane, of whose open-handed hospitality I have often heard.”

It could never have been said of Mrs. Daly that she was

“Mistress of herself though china fall.”

And to have lost china and cake both together was quite too severe a trial of her patience.

Ariana immediately came to her relief, by saying to the guest very politely, “Will you walk into the study with me, sir? I assure you that Madison does not care how many people are there, so he is saved from the task of entertaining them.”

“It is all the fault of that selfish animal,” she added mentally. “What is the use of all the learning in the world if unmixed with a particle of common sense?”

——

A week after Arthur Grayson’s arrival in the city, the following letter was received at his father’s delightful residence on the banks of the Susquehanna:

“My dearest Mother,—Were it not for the domestic happiness I have witnessed at home, I should begin to believe that no literary man ought ever to marry. When I remember your anecdotes of the mischievous pranks of little Madison Daley, and then look at his immovable face, I can scarcely believe that he is the same individual. His soul, during the last seven years, must have as completely changed as the elements of that stiff-knit frame, which day and night is bent over some ponderous volume, for not an atom of playfulness or bonhommie now enters into his composition. Perhaps a ‘silent loving woman’ might have retarded this metamorphosis, but Cousin Jane is of quite a different class. Out of respect to you, dear mother, I try always to think that women are free from blame, and sincerely commiserate the philosopher’swife, who makes me thoroughly uncomfortable, by trying to make me comfortable, and her children wretched, in endeavoring to bring them up properly. Her promised visit to Castleton, will, I am sure, be a green spot in her existence, and the mummy husband makes no opposition to the excursion. Will you have the kindness to include in your invitation, Miss Ariana Huntingdon, a sister of Madison’s wife, whom I should like you to know as a peculiar specimen of womanhood? She has wit and beauty enough to fascinate any man, were it not for her having conceived so thorough and unfeminine a contempt for mankind, that she is often guilty of such rudeness that my heart resists all her attractions. Andrew Dormer and Madison Daley are not, it is true, such men as would give any person of discernment a high respect for our sex, yet it is a mark of a little mind to condemn whole classes for the faults of individuals. Then Miss Ariana is an arrant little coquette, insisting that it is of service to a man to break his heart, as it will have a little softness ever afterward, whereas it otherwise would continue all stone. We have many pleasant tilts on these subjects, and when pushed for a reason, she always maintains her cause by such cunning sarcasms, that I am obliged to own myself defeated. ‘Men at home!’ is her frequent exclamation, in a tone of perfect contempt, at any new proof of the selfishness of her brothers-in-law. I wonder if she would dare to utter this sneer at the lords of creation, after seeing my honored father under his own hospitable roof. Please say to him that I have almost completed the business entrusted to my care, and shall return home in two weeks from to-morrow. Till then, I remain as ever,“Your devoted son,“Arthur Grayson.”

“Your devoted son,

“Arthur Grayson.”

“This old study is not such a disagreeable room after all,” said Ariana, as she was ensconced in the low window-seat, with Arthur Grayson beside her. They were hidden from the view of her brother-in-law by his long overcoat, which no remonstrances could induce him to have hung elsewhere. “Madison has probably discovered that the parlors of Herculaneum were thus ornamented,” she continued, pointing to a pair of boots which were standing in the midst of the apartment.

“It is a very pleasant room to me,” he replied, “and I shall long remember the hours spent here.”

A glance of joy shot from Ariana’s eyes, but it passed away as she thought, “I dare say both of my brothers-in-law used to say just such agreeable things before they were married.”

“If I ever meet with a man who tries to be disagreeable, I shall believe that he is sincere,” she replied, somewhat pettishly.

“Why do you suspect me of hypocrisy?” said Arthur, coldly. “I remarked that our pleasant chats had cheated me of many weary hours; you cannot doubt that this is the case. I neither said nor intended more.”

Ariana had always applauded sincerity, but this frank avowal did not meet her approbation. Thetête-à-têtewas becoming awkward, and was luckily interrupted at this juncture by the ring of the postman. A letter was handed to Mr. Grayson; it contained a note which he gave to Miss Huntingdon. She blushed at seeing that it bore the signature of Isabella Grayson, and was penned in a feminine hand, of remarkable delicacy and beauty. The flush on her cheek grew absolutely crimson, as she read the polite invitation to accompany her sister on a visit to Castleton the ensuing month. At that moment Arthur Grayson was wishing that he had not induced his mother to extend her hospitality, as Ariana had of late openly announced her predilections for single blessedness, and had at the same time been so bewitchingly agreeable, that he began to feel that her society was dangerous to his peace.

“I fear I must decline this invitation,” said she, after a pause of some minutes.

“For what reason?” he asked, while his dark eyes were fixed in close scrutiny upon her varying countenance.

Ariana blushed still deeper, and then attempted to smile, but a tear stole to her eye as she replied with great frankness, “We have spent so many delightful hours together that your memory will be very pleasant, but I am afraid that the charm would be broken if I were to see you at home.”

This confession almost drew from Arthur one of still deeper import, but a remembrance flashed upon him of all he had heard of Ariana’s coquetry, and he merely replied, “If that is all, I will remain away from Castleton, rather than deprive my mother and Mrs. Daley of the pleasure of your society.”

This proposition, however, was by no means agreeable.

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed, “I have no idea of exiling you on my account, only promise to try and not be very disagreeable.”

This pledge was easily given. Soon after a messenger arrived to say that Mr. Dormer was quite unwell, and begged that Mrs. Daley would spare Ariana.

If there be any where in the world a striking instance of the fallen pride of humanity, a sick man affords the example.

When Ariana returned, Mr. Dormer was lying on the sofa, in the parlor, in his gay dressing-gown, having absolutely refused to go to his chamber and be regularly treated as a patient. Harriet stood by him with a wine-glass of medicine in one hand, and a saucer of sweetmeats in the other, trying to coax the invalid to swallow the dose she had so carefully prepared for him. The naughtiest of boys never made up such rueful faces, or protested more willfully against the disagreeable injunction.

“There’s no use,” he said at last, angrily; “I’d rather die than swallow such stuff.”

“But, dear Andrew, what could I do without you?” said the affectionate Mrs. Dormer, now almost in tears.

A sudden and violent pain made her husband inclined to change his resolution, and snatching the glass, he said, “There, give me thesweetmeats, quick.” With much writhing and choking, he swallowed a dose which one of his children would have taken without a murmur.

“What is the matter, Andrew?” asked Ariana, kindly, as she stepped to his side.

“Matter enough,” he replied, “my stomach isentirely ruined by the horrid messes on which I have been fed for the last month. A horse could not have stood the cooking to which I have been forced to submit.”

Mr. Dormer, after smoking his digestive organs out of order, in spite of the remonstrances of his friends, now actually believed that he was an injured man, victimised by a bad cook and a careless wife.

Such a miserable week as followed this scene had rarely fallen to Ariana’s lot, but she was really grateful to Mr. Dormer for his disinterested kindness to her, and relieved her sister of much trouble and care. Every day that detained the peevish patient from his business made him still more unreasonable and exacting. He would have been well much sooner if any one could have induced him to obey the orders of the physician. After a dose of calomel, he would insist on a hearty dinner of beef-steak, and when purposely kept in a low state to prevent the danger of fever, called loudly for wine or brandy, declaring that his wife would like nothing better than to see his strength so reduced that there could be no hope of his recovery.

The servants were so exhausted with his caprices that the chambermaid took French leave, and then Mrs. Dormer, who had double duty to perform, was taxed with inattention to his wants.

“I wonder if Arthur Grayson has a strong constitution?” was the question which passed through Ariana’s mind, as she witnessed the daily martyrdom of her meek sister. Now the dressing was all torn from the blisters of the impatient invalid, then the covering thrown off, and a moment after a complaint made that some outer door had been left open on purpose to freeze him to death. Every dose of medicine was taken with a struggle, every word of advice regarded as an infringement on his rights.

Where was that clever fellow, Andrew Dormer? What would the merchants on ’change have said to the transformation? Nothing, we presume, for like himself, they were few of them clever fellows to their own wives and servants.

——

It is quite an objection to rail-roads and steamboats that they present so few inconveniences as to give one but little opportunity of discovering the temper and good-breeding of their fellow passengers. Nobody is crowded within, nobody has to sit without, no one is sick on the back seat, or lacks support on the middle one, as used to be the case in those dear old stage-coaches, where persons were shaken out of all ceremony, and jostled into a pleasant acquaintance.

A private carriage, however, if well filled, has still its points of trial; and the Grayson equipage, when packed with the Daley family, promises to exercise the patience of its inmates.

Of course, the ladies were too modern to be troubled with bandboxes; but Mrs. Daley’s beautiful traveling-bag, which had been worked by her sister, needed as much tending as a baby; and the bouquet of flowers, which Ariana was carrying from a city green-house to Mrs. Grayson, in a tin case, wanted great care, being sprinkled every time that the horses were watered.

Arthur Grayson had been early schooled to consider annoyance at petty evils as totally unworthy of a man of sense, and there was no affectation in his indifference to his own ease while making the ladies as comfortable as lay within his power. He even succeeded in beguiling Etty from Ariana’s arm to his own, and Jane’s brow grew smoother at every mile, from finding the children so easily amused. Archie Daley had a quick inquiring mind, and drank in eagerly all the information which his friend gave with regard to the objects that they passed on the road. At length, wearied with pleasure, he fell asleep, leaning his whole weight on Arthur’s, while Etta slumbered on his breast, as much at home as if in her nurse’s arms.

Ariana had been unusually silent during the journey. The peculiar gentleness of her companion, his delicate attentions to Jane and herself, with his sweet consideration for the children, and carelessness of his own comfort, made her wish that the journey might be long, and suggested the thought how happy any one would be, who should enjoy such protection through life.

These reflections gave an unusual softness to her generally vivacious manners, which was peculiarly attractive; and Arthur, as he glanced at the little sleeper on his bosom, and then at the sweet smile on Ariana’s face, had his own dreams also of domestic bliss.

These gentle thoughts had not faded from the hearts of our travelers, nor the light of the setting sun from the evening sky, when they entered the open gates of Castleton. An elderly gentleman, of noble appearance, stood on the porch of his fine mansion, to welcome the strangers. His dignified yet kindly manners impressed Ariana with instant respect, but she felt a still deeper emotion in receiving the cordial greetings of Mrs. Grayson. Arthur’s mother was still a beautiful woman, though her hair was slightly silvered with age, for her dark eye was intellectually bright, while a smile of uncommon sweetness played around her pleasant mouth. The heart of the orphan was touched by the motherly kindness of tone with which she was welcomed; and as she heard the joyful greeting which Arthur received from both his parents, and the tender respect with which it was returned, she felt that there was a happiness in domestic life of which she had scarcely dreamed.

“We must not forget your health, Mary, in our pleasure at seeing our friends,” said Judge Grayson, to his wife, as he gently placed her arm in his, and led the way to the cheerful parlor.

How much expression there is in the interior of any dwelling! That tastefully ornamented room, provided with every comfort for the elder members of the family, and filled with materials of amusements for all persons of cultivated minds, breathed nothing but peace and joy.

Arthur placed a footstool at his mother’s feet, and then rang for a servant, to show the ladies to their apartment, while Judge Grayson was helping them to disencumber themselves from some of their numerous wrappings. Archie had loitered to take a ride on the porch, where he had spied a rocking-horse, which had been brought down from the garret with a view to hisamusement, while Etty had caught up a kitten which seemed used to nothing but kindness.

“What an excellent housekeeper Mrs. Grayson appears to be!” was Jane’s exclamation, the moment that they reached their apartment. “They say that the judge is a learned man, but I do not see any thing that looks like it.”

A disorderly dwelling, and a cold, disagreeable man at its head, were to Mrs. Daley, alas! the usual indications of the abode of literature. She had not noticed that one little cabinet of books in the parlor, contained some very profound works, and that the large room opposite, was a well furnished library.

The beautiful art of making others happy had been so completely studied by Mrs. Grayson, that before the evening passed away, Mrs. Daley and her sister scarcely remembered that they were guests. As Ariana began to feel perfectly at home, her natural vivacity arose, and the judge smiled pleasantly at her lively rejoinders to the playful remarks of his son.

Now and then Mrs. Grayson looked up a little seriously, from her conversation on family affairs with Jane, as if afraid that Arthur might be tempted to some slight rudeness, in replying to the gay sallies of his companion.

——

When Ariana awoke the next morning, she feared that her last night’s enjoyment had been all a dream; but a glance around her chamber convinced her that at least she was not in the habitation of either of her sisters.

The sound of a loud, manly voice below, fully restored her to consciousness, and with it came the tormenting thought that it must be Judge Grayson. I am afraid that after all he is like other men at Home, was her mental ejaculation.

The voice came nearer, but its tones were not harsh, and Ariana now distinctly heard the words, “Up, up, Arthur! Your mother wishes a letter sent to the village, and we ride there on horseback before breakfast. Hurry, my boy!”

“Here I am, sir, booted and spurred,” was distinctly audible, in a gay, yet respectful tone. And then the cheerful voices of father and son, as they mounted their horses and rode away.

“Take another muffin, Miss Ariana,” said the judge, as they sat at breakfast. “It may be vanity, but I think my wife always manages to have nicer muffins than are found any where else in the whole country. I know Arthur is of the same opinion, for he gives us the best possible proof of it.”

The son gave a smiling assent, and Ariana thought of Andrew Dormer and his habit of finding fault with every thing that was placed before him.

It is not much the fashion at the present day for young men to consult their parents with regard to their love affairs, but Arthur Grayson walked closely in the footsteps of his father, and he was a gentleman of the old school. Were this mode more prevalent, there would not be so many unhappy mothers-in-law and such miserable wives.

The visiters from the city had spent two days at Castleton before Arthur could ask his mother’s advice about the subject which lay nearest his heart. The moment, however, that he found an opportunity of speaking to her alone, he said, eagerly, “What do you think of Ariana?”

“A question that I am not yet qualified to answer, my son,” was her reply, while she looked earnestly into his troubled face, as if seeking to discover how deeply he was interested in the inquiry, which he had just made.

“You do not like her, I see plainly,” he hastily remarked, in a tone of bitter disappointment.

“You are much mistaken in that supposition, my dear Arthur. On the contrary, her frankness and talents interest me exceedingly, and even her faults make me anxious for a more intimate acquaintance, for I think that I might be of service in aiding her to overcome them. I am not sure, however, that she would be a suitable companion for life for my darling son, if that is what you wish to know.”

“Then I must not stay here any longer,” he exclaimed, impetuously. “I have too much confidence in your judgment to believe that I could ever be happy with any one, of whose character you disapproved. I feared that it would be so.”

“You are too hasty, Arthur. Why does the opinion I have expressed make it necessary for you to leave home?”

“Because I have discovered that I love her too well to trust myself longer in her society,” he answered, with agitation.

“Then you are right in your resolution. Why do you not make your long promised visit to Carysford Lee? If I find on further acquaintance that Ariana is worthy of your affection, you shall not long remain in ignorance of the conclusion.”

“Thank you,” Arthur replied, and then sorrow of heart prevented him from adding more, but kissing affectionately his mother’s pale cheek, he hastily left the apartment.

Ariana’s face was radiant with smiles when she descended to the dining-room. Her gayety, however, quickly disappeared when Arthur, who sat next to her at the table, asked abruptly, “Have you any commands for my friend, Lee? I am going this afternoon to Allendale, to remain with him for a few weeks.”

Luckily for Ariana, Jane immediately exclaimed, “What, going to run away from us so soon. How will the children get along without you?”

“Please don’t go, sir!” said Archie, mournfully. “I cannot finish my new bow without your help.”

“I will show you about it,” said the judge, kindly, “and take you to ride on horseback behind me, just as Arthur has done.”

By this time Ariana had recovered her composure, and said, with an attempt at gayety, “What a delightful time we ladies shall have with none to molest or make us afraid. The only fear will be, that I shall quite forget my saucy ways if I have no one to practice them upon.”

“Suppose you should make me a target for your wit,” said the judge, playfully.

“My weapons would only rebound upon myself, with so invulnerable a mark,” she replied, in a respectful tone.

A conversation, in which evident constraint was visible, followed, and every one glad when the meal was at last over. An hour afterward Arthur’s horse was brought round to the door, and with an air of extreme embarrassment, he bade Mrs. Daley and Ariana a hasty farewell. The assumed indifference of the latter was so well counterfeited, that her lover rode away with the full conviction that his absence was considered as a relief.

——

The next morning, Judge Grayson was obliged to leave Castleton to attend a court at a neighboring village, and the ladies were left in sole possession of the mansion.

“How dull it is here to-day,” said Ariana, to her sister, as they weretête-à-tête, while Mrs. Grayson was occupied with domestic affairs. “I just saw a pair of boots at the door of the opposite chamber, and it wasactually a delightful sight. I really think that everlasting overcoat of Madison’s would be a pleasant addition to our prospect in this dearth of mankind.”

Jane was delighted at a chance to revenge herself for all Ariana’s attacks upon the odd ways of the professor. “What ails you,” she said, “to make such strange remarks? They come very unexpectedly from such a professed man-hater. Why I have heard you say, that Eden could not be a Paradise to you, if men were allowed to enter it.”

“Let by-gones be by-gones, Jenny. We grow wiser every day,” said Ariana, playfully. “Do you need me here this morning?”

“No, I shall be busy in copying these receipts for cake, but if you will have an eye to the children who are down stairs, I shall be obliged to you.”

Ariana took up her basket containing a pair of slippers, which she was working for Andrew Dormer, and went into the parlor, where she hoped to find Mrs. Grayson.

That lady was, however, not there, but soon came in, and setting down her work, commenced one of those easy, confidential chats, which make two people better acquainted than years of intercourse in general society.

“I am going to ask a question, which you will think very strange,” said Ariana, at length, “but it would make me so much happier if I was certain about it.”

“What is it, dear?” asked the kind lady, with a benevolent smile, which encouraged curiosity.

“Will you then tell me,” said Ariana, hesitatingly, “if Judge Grayson is always as kind and agreeable at home as he appears to us?”

The tears rose to Mrs. Grayson’s eyes as she answered, “He has never been otherwise. I could not with propriety have replied to your question if I had not testimony to bear to his never failing love and kindness.”

“Oh! how glad I am!” exclaimed Ariana, with a fervency that startled her companion. “All the men I know are so disagreeable in their own homes, and so neglectful of the comfort of their wives, that I thought the rest of the world were like them.”

“It is too true, my child,” said Mrs. Grayson, kindly, “that there are those who sacrifice their private peace to their public duties, orexhibit at home the vexation consequent upon lives of constant toil and anxiety. Even where this is the case, however, it is a woman’s duty to give her home all the cheerfulness in her power; and if her husband is not in private life what she could wish, the secret should be confined to her own bosom.”

Mrs. Grayson was one of the few persons who can give advice so discreetly as not to wound the feelings of the person whom they are trying to benefit. Her last remark made Ariana feel the impropriety of having allowed the faults of her brothers-in-law, who were generous, indeed, though their manners were often so disagreeable. Her confession in this respect was so frankly made, that it won upon Mrs. Grayson’s affection, and their conversation continued in a still more confidential tone.

Day after day Ariana would glide down into the parlor, to enjoy atête-à-têtewith her new friend, while Jane was occupied with her receipts, and the children busy at play. Her laughing philosophy was only the armor of pride, and her warm, generous feelings gushed forth unrestrained, in conversing with Mrs. Grayson. The sportive bursts of humor, which were so perfectly natural to her lively disposition, awoke in the elder lady some of the vivacity of her early years, and Jane would be startled from her monotonous employment, by the sound of their merry laughter. Insensibly the bright, impulsive girl was winding around the heart of her friend, in trying to win whose approbation her own character was rapidly improving.

There was only one subject on which there was not perfect confidence between Mrs. Grayson and Ariana. Arthur’s name was never mentioned by either of them. Ariana could not with delicacy, tell his mother how bitterly she was grieved at his departure, but her languid eyes, and frequently wandering thoughts, revealed the truth.

Sometimes, when at evening Judge Grayson returned from court, she saw the affectionate meeting with his dear wife, she would sigh deeply, as if looking on happiness that could never be her own.

The six weeks which Mrs. Daley intended to spend at Castleton, had passed rapidly away. On the morrow the family were to return to the city, and all regretted the necessity for their separation.

As Ariana sat listening to the regrets of Mrs. Grayson and her sister that their intercourse was so soon to be terminated, she was unable to command her spirits, and under pretence of breathing the fresh air, walked out upon the piazza. She stood looking toward the stars in melancholy abstraction, when a gentleman came suddenly around the corner of the house, and stood at her side. “Mr. Grayson!” she exclaimed, with such unaffected joy, that a smile of delight beamed on his face as he eagerly seized her proffered hand.

“Did you not then know that I was to return this evening?” he asked. “Could you think that I would allow you to depart without saying farewell?”

“You left us so abruptly, that I did not know what to expect,” she replied, blushing deeply.

“Did you not object to coming here lest my presence should mar your enjoyment?” he inquired, mischievously.

“But you know,” she replied, with warmth, “what was the reason for that silly remark.”

“Why silly? If seeing me at home might destroy your respect, it was quite wise to send me into banishment,” he remarked, playfully.

“But I could not have done so, I am sure, now,” she replied, earnestly.

“Have you really sufficient faith in any man to believe him free from the faults which I have so often heard you impute to the whole sex?”

The question was put in a jesting tone, but Arthur listened eagerly for her reply.

“Your father’s constant politeness has overcome all those foolish prejudices. I do believe that his son may resemble him.”

“Would you dare to trust your happiness to the keeping of that son?” he asked, with tender earnestness.

“I should,” she replied with characteristic promptness, while a tear glistened in her eye.

“Then why may not this place henceforth be your home. My mother already loves you dearly, and my father’s approbation sanctions my suit.”

Ariana’s consent was easily won to this proposition, and then Arthur went to announce his own arrival to the family circle, while she stole to her apartment to compose her agitated heart.

Mrs. Daley insisted that Ariana should remain with her a month previous to her marriage, and then Mrs. Dormer pleaded for a visit of equal length. Andrew would have been quite out of humor at her loss, were it not for the pleasure of hearing that she had given up her rebellious thoughts as to man’s supremacy. The professor was so much ameliorated by Jane’s more prudent conduct, that he presented the bride elect with a set of very dry books, in token of regard for her choice. Mr. Dormer made her many valuable gifts, though his manner of bestowing favors almost neutralized the pleasure which he otherwise would have conferred.

Ariana Huntingdon has been for many years a happy wife. Arthur Grayson has found that well regulated wit and cheerful independence, heighten domestic life; and Ariana asserts that men deserve the title of Lords of Creation, and that her Arthur, to be fully appreciated, must be seen “at Home.”

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