no for an
answer. Want to have a long talk with you about old times."

"Thank you, Mr. Smith," replied Jones. "But, as I don't happen to
know your good lady, I hardly feel free to accept your invitation."

"Don't hesitate for that. She'll be delighted to see you. Always
glad to meet any of my old friends. So come along. I've a dozen
things to say to you."

"I'm really afraid of intruding on your wife," said Mr. Jones, still
holding back from the invitation.

"Nonsense!" answered my husband. "My friends are hers. She will be
delighted to see you. I've talked of you to her a hundred times."

At this Mr. Jones yielded.

"I can't promise you any thing extra," said Mr. Smith, as they
walked along. "Nothing more than a good, plain family dinner, and a
warm welcome."

"All I could ask or desire," returned Mr. Jones.

It was a few minutes to two o'clock. The bell had rung for dinner;
and I was just rising to go to the dining room, when I heard the
street door open, and the sound of my husband's voice in the
passage. There was a man in company with him, for I distinctly heard
the tread of a pair of feet. What could this mean? I remained
seated, listening with attention.

My husband entered the parlor with his companion, talking in a
cheerful, animated strain; and I heard him pull up the blinds and
throw open the shutters. Presently he came tripping lightly up the
stairs to my sitting room.

"I've brought a friend home to dinner, Jane," said he, as coolly and
as confidently as if it were not washing day; and as if he had not
told me on going out, that he would dine at an eating house.

This was a little too much for my patience and forbearance.

"Are you beside yourself, Mr. Smith?" I replied, my face instantly
becoming flushed, and my eyes glancing out upon him the sudden
indignation I felt at such treatment.

"Why, Jane! Jane! This is not kind in you," said my husband, with
regret and displeasure in his voice. "It is rather hard if a man
can't ask an old friend home to dine with him once in five years,
without asking the special permission of his wife."

"Mr. Smith! Are you not aware that this is washing day?"

There was an instant change in my husband's countenance. He seemed
bewildered for a few moments.

"And, moreover," I continued, "are you not aware that I was to have
a picked-up dinner at home, and that you were to dine at an eating
house?"

"I declare!" Mr. Smith struck his hands together, and tu