he doing of that thing became a
habit and a passion, any interference with which provoked him to an
unreasoning bull-like wrath wherein both wives and crockery were
equally shattered; and, therefore, a woman had only to observe the
personal habits of her beloved and fashion her restrictions according
to that standard. This meant that men made the laws and women
administered them--a wise allocation of prerogatives, for she
conceived that the executive female function was every whit as
important as the creative faculty which brought these laws into being.
She was quite prepared to leave the creative powers in male hands if
they would equally abstain from interference with the subsequent
working details, for she was of opinion that in the pursuit of comfort
(not entirely to their credit was it said) men were far more anxiously
concerned than were women, and they flew to their bourne with an
instinct for short cuts wherewith women were totally unacquainted.

But in the young man who had come to lodge with her Mrs. Cafferty
discerned a being in whom virtue had concentrated to a degree that
almost amounted to a congestion. He had instantly played with the
children on their being presented to him: this was the sign of a good
nature. Before he was acquainted with her ten minutes he had made
four jokes: this was the sign of a pleasant nature; and he sang loudly
and unceasingly when he awoke in the morning, which was the unfailing
index to a happy nature. Moreover, he ate the meals provided for him
without any of that particular, tedious examination which is so
insulting, and had complimented Mrs. Cafferty on an ability to put a
taste on food which she was pleased to obtain recognition of.

Both Mary and her mother remarked on these details with an admiration
which was as much as either politeness or friendship could expect.
Mrs. Makebelieve's solitary method of life had removed her so
distantly from youth that information about a young man was almost
tonic to her. She had never wished for a second husband, but had often
fancied that a son would have been a wonderful joy to her. She
considered that a house which had no young man growing up in it was
not a house at all, and she believed that a boy would love his
mother, if not more than a daughter could, at least with a difference
which would be strangely sweet--a rash, impulsive, unquiet love: a
love which would continually prove her love to the breaking point; a
love that dema