ange; the leopard
might as well be expected to change his spots. Ephraim is joined to his
idols; let him alone. Let him go to his church, and you to yours. It is
not pleasant, but must be accepted as one of the conditions of your
marriage. Neither let it create trouble between you. Avoid religious
subjects. But as he will undoubtedly cling to his Church, so must you to
yours. Do not be prevailed upon to go with him; remain upon that point
firm as himself."

Thereafter Juliet concluded she had better make the best of it, and
by-and-bye it had ceased to become the "skeleton in the house," as at
first.

Had Juliet been less exacting and less demonstrative in her affection,
she would have made her husband a happier man. Coming home one day he
found her crying, as if her heart would break. To his eager inquiries as
to the cause, she replied, hysterically:

"You don't love me, John, and I am the most unhappy woman in the
world."

"Don't love you! What has put such a notion as that in your head?"

"You know you don't, John; that is enough."

"But if I tell you I do?"

"That is just what you never do tell me; that is what makes me so
miserable."

"Am I unkind to you? What have I done that you complain of?"

"You don't tell me every day that you love me."

"Bless me! You are not expecting me to repeat that over every day? Is
not once enough for all? Did I not prove it beyond all words by marrying
you?"

"I never expected our honeymoon to wane. If you calculated to settle
down at once into sober old married people, I did not, nor will I. I
wish we had never got married, and always stayed lovers; that was ever
so much nicer. Don't you say your _Ave Maria_ every day?"

"I do," answered John, "or rather I used to," failing to perceive what
connection this question could have with the subject.

"Well, then, why do you do that? Why don't you say it once for all and
have done with it, as you say of your love for me? But no, all your
devotion must be given to a woman that lived thousands of years ago! You
think more of her picture than of your own wife! This is what one gets
by marrying a Catholic!"

Juliet's temper was fast overcoming her grief.

John Temple was agitated by a variety of emotions. He looked at his
wife, who had re-buried her face in the sofa cushions, and thus
addressed her, inaudibly:

"You foolish, little simpleton! you ignorant little heretic!--destitute
both of religion and common sense. Good H