like a child, and made to ask for what is my right as Benjamin's wife-his honored and trusted wife. "You see, Marion, the only thing Benjamin will not leave in my care is

enough money to give me a certain freedom, and the power to spend or to save

without consulting him at every point.

Benjamin defers to my taste in household furnishing; he concedes my prerogative as to the selection of servants and the administration of the domestic economy; he is proud of me as his wife. If we had a child, or children, he would allow me to have entire charge of their training and education. It is in just this one particular that I am a mendicant.

"Yes, of course I buy things and send him the bills. I have accounts at the stores, and my husband audits them, and wonders or smiles, as his mood happens to be, at the sum total of my shopping; for indeed, Marion, I am extravagant and reckless, and order the things for the mere fancy, as you would do, too, if you were treated like a baby or a plaything. And to-day, when the lady called and wanted me to subscribe for St. Mary's Guild, I had to put her off until I could talk it over with my husband; and it will end in my giving nothing, for Benjamin likes to be consulted about charities, but always concludes with the remark that we are doing enough in the line of benevolence already. my child, never marry. You are much better off as you are."

Marion,

Marion blushed, a lovely seashell flush warming her ivory skin, until she looked almost as beautiful as her sister. Marion was the plain one of the family. Plain girls are not without charm, however, and she had her own happy secret— a fiance, whose stock-farm of many acres, and plain, low-ceiled, wide-verandaed house, awaited the coming of a mistress. In Greenbrier the problems which vexed Fidelia's soul and took the sweetness from her life would not annoy Marion; for her home, leagues back from the railroad among the primitive mountains, would be carried on without much actual gold and silver; and as for barter, the butter and eggs and honey would be hers, to do with as she chose. Marion could not imagine herself in the pitiful case of Fidelia.

Being a sensible maiden, and one of those persons whose disposition is not to drift along at the mercy of the wind, but to act with decision, and set matters straight if they are, crooked, the little girl from Greenbrier began to speak in a common-sense manner to her distressed sister.

66

Fidelia, all I have to say is that you are behaving very foolishly. Benjamin, poor fellow, hasn't an idea that you are taking this thing seriously to heart. Until you talk it fully out with him, and persuade him to try another method, you have no right to suffer martyrdom as you do. Let us drop the subject now and go out for a walk and some chocolate creams; I've been wishing for chocolates all day."

"Oh! have you, dear?" sighed Fidelia. "I am sorry, but I can't get them for you, unless I go somewhere and have them sent home, C. O. D., with strict orders to let the delivery be between six and seven in the evening. I might have them charged, it is true, but I would not like to send a bill for a pound or two of chocolate creams to Benjamin's office."

Come, my dear," said Marion; "I'll relieve your difficulty this time." Meanwhile, Benjamin, unaware of the conflict in Fidelia's mind on a subject which to him seemed of very slight importance, was sauntering slowly homeward, intent on bringing his wife, after the fashion of loving husbands everywhere, some agreeable votive offering. Now it was a new book, some charming story about which people were talking; now a photograph; again a bunch of violets or a cluster of roses; occasionally his evening gift took the form of bonbons.

Passing a brilliantly arrayed and ornamented window, it suddenly struck his fancy that women liked sweets, as was proved by the procession of female figures flitting to and fro at this particular corner. Benjamin determined to procure for his wife and her sister a large box or a ribbon-bound basket of choice conserves and confections, sure that" the girls" would be pleased. He entered, stood before a counter, and gave a lavish order, paying for his purchase royally from a large roll of bills.

He was about leaving, when he heard a faint little familiar voice behind him, saying, "Pardon me; we might as well go home together, dear."

It was Fidelia. And Marion was with her, smiling and unembarrassed. Fidelia seemed a trifle disturbed.

"You are driving?" inquired Benjamin.

"Not at all," answered Fidelia. "We are taking a constitutional, and Marion has been treating me to chocolates."

"And pray, dearest," asked Benjamin, "why did not you treat Marion?" "I? How could I? I never have the means to do those spendthrift things. I leave such vagaries to my betters."

Benjamin stared. A man seldom understands the intricacies of the feminine mind. All he did comprehend was that something had happened to put Fidelia out. He hated to see her out of temper. So he hastened to soothe the perturbed spirits of the lady by his side; he never forgot that she was a lady, and to be studied and treated as such, though she was his wife, and therefore privileged to snub him if she chose.

"Well, Fidelia, I've just bought five pounds of bonbons apiece for you, and you may play the Lady Bountiful with yours if you like."

This remark did not appeal to Fidelia. She received it coldly. The trio walked briskly through the crisp evening air, and in silence arrived at the house, which, lighted and cheery, sent out its cordial welcome to them as they went in. A perfect dinner was prepared, and after it, what with a glowing open fire, softfooted servants, and the peace which falls tranquilly on a civilized household when it has dined, Benjamin was partly conquered beforehand, when Marion suddenly took him to task, playfully at first, but presently with great seriousness of purpose and manner.

66

Brother, do you know that I have discovered a skeleton in Fidelia's closet?" "You don't tell me! Pray, when? And what can it be? Fidelia is the most absolutely contented woman in New York."

"You think so, but it is a mistake. Fidelia is extremely discontented, and has a very legitimate grievance."

Benjamin looked grave. He laid down his newspaper and flicked away the ashes from his cigar. What do you mean, Marion? Do not speak in riddles.” Fidelia wishes a private purse, and you do not allow her to have one." "Excuse me, Marion," said Benjamin, stiffly, "but surely Fidelia and I can arrange our finances to suit ourselves."

"Certainly, if only you will do so," answered Marion, going to the musicroom, and playing, softly and dreamily, waltz, sonata, measure after measure of silvery melody; marches with long thrilling chords; cradle tunes, such as children love while by the fire, beyond her hearing, the married pair carried on a lowtoned conversation.

"Fidelia, you know that all I have in the world belongs to you and is altogether at your service. We can have no separate interests. I do not like the idea of dividing our united life by the entering-wedge of an apportionment to you of any stated sum. You have my purse always, and may command what you will."

"In other words, Benjamin, I am a licensed beggar."

"Why put it in that way? One cannot beg for what is her own by right. What practical basis can you suggest which would meet your views and make you altogether satisfied?"

Fidelia did not hesitate the fraction of a second.

"Give me a stated sum every month for my personal use, entirely apart from housekeeping or other expenses connected with our home; let this be deposited in my name in some convenient bank, let me have my own check-book, and you will never hear another complaint from my lips. I ask only a small sun, dear; but I wish the knowledge that there are funds which I may control-the pleasure of my own private purse."

"In short, you prefer an allowance-an allowance-to the unrestricted use of your husband's income?"

"I do certainly; for the latter phrase, though beautiful, has no practical significance. If the allowance is to cover all my needful expenses of dress, traveling and other incidentals, it will have to be larger than the one I am pleading forwhich is simply money enough to come and go on, without feeling always like a mendicant who has no hope of brightening her fortunes."

"We'll try it for a year, Fidelia," was Benjamin's conclusion, and Fidelia stooped and kissed him. She was standing by his chair, and she swept her

fingers caressingly through his hair, and looked as pretty and animated as she used to do at Greenbrier in their courting days.

"It never entered my Why, it might easily have

"Women are enigmas," said Benjamin, musingly. brain that you cared so much about so small a thing. been arranged in this way from the beginning.'

"I wish I had dared to speak sooner," said Fidelia. never would really listen, and lately I've felt desperate. situation, dear, if the cases were reversed."

"I own that I might not.

only an experiment."

"I have tried, but you You wouldn't like the

You may prefer the old way, my love. This is

"An experiment worth trying," cried Fidelia, gaily, while Marion's music surged up into a triumphant march.

And "Women are queer," thought Benjamin, applying himself again to the evening paper.

The Sin of Omission.

It isn't the thing you do, Dear,
It's the thing you leave undone
That gives you a bit of a heartache
At the setting of the sun.
The tender word forgotten;

The letter you did not write;

The flower you did not send, Dear,
Are your haunting ghosts at night.

The stone you might have lifted

Out of a brother's way;

The bit of heartsome counsel

You were hurried too much to say;

The loving touch of the hand, Dear,
The gentle, winning tone

Which you had no time nor thought for
With troubles enough of your own.

Those little acts of kindness

So easily out of mind,

Those chances to be angels

Which we poor mortals find;