Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/370

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THE MOTHER

woman marries she must give up self. Yet I would regret nothing if once he would take me into his arms and say: "I understand; for me you have left your dreams, the name you thought to make in the world, preferring a dearer name in one man's heart The long hours that your art demanded from you, you have spent doing the monotonous duties of my household; but I appreciate and understand." Or if he would not speak at all, but hold me to him, knowing my heart and comforting it without words. But why dream of impossibilities when, after a day of labour, he tells me I do nothing, that women but sit at home and amuse themselves while men toil to support them? What amusement is it to me to plan meals each day without the hope of an approving word? to turn and re-turn old gowns, or oversee servants? My friends I left far away when I came to him, and with his I have little in sympathy; yet I am glad to see them come to our house, since for a time, at least, they dispel the gloom of our domestic life; for a time the skeleton is put into its cupboard, our small cellar is robbed of its best wine, our wits are called upon to produce our most brilliant