temper. "Let us hear. Perhaps I can
suggest a remedy."

"If you will get me a washerwoman, you will exceedingly oblige me,"
said I.

"Where is Harriet?" he asked.

"She is sick, or pretends to be, I don't know which."

"Perhaps she will be well enough to do your washing to-morrow,"
suggested my husband.

"Perhaps is a poor dependence."

I said this with a tartness that ill repaid my husband's effort to
comfort me. I saw that he felt the unkindness of my manner, in the
slight shade that passed over his face.

"Can't you get some one else to do your washing this week?"

I made no reply. The question was easily asked. After that, my husband
was silent,--silent in that peculiar way that I understood, too well,
as the effect of my words, or tones, or state of mind. Here was another
cause for unhappiness, in the reflection that I had disturbed my
husband's peace.

I am sure that I did not much look like a loving wife and mother as I
presided at the dinner table that day. The children never seemed so
restless and hard to manage; and I could not help speaking to them,
every now and then, "as if I would take their heads off;" but to little
good effect.

After my husband went away on finishing his dinner, I went to bed, and
cried for more than half the afternoon. Oh! how wretched I felt! Life
seemed an almost intolerable burden.

Then my mind grew more composed, and I tried to think about what was to
be done. The necessity for having the clothes washed was absolute; and
this roused me, at length, as the most pressing domestic duty, into
thinking so earnestly, that I presently rang the bell for Netty, who
came in her own good time.

"Tell Agnes that I want to see her," said I, not in a very good-natured
way.

The effect was that Netty left the chamber without replying, and
slammed the door hard after her, which mark of disrespect set my blood
to boiling. In a little while my cook made her appearance.

"Agnes," said I, "do you know of any one that can get to do the washing
this week?"

Agnes thought for a few moments, and then replied--

"There's a poor woman who lives near my mother's. I think she goes out
to wash sometimes."

"I wish you would step round and see if she can't come here to-morrow."

Agnes said that she would do so.

"Tell her she must come," said I.

"Very well, ma'am."

And Agnes withdrew.

In an hour she tame back, and said that she had seen the woman, who
promised to come.

"Wh