r of subjects, his sympathy with all charitable
movements, and his tolerant regard even for the widow's pet ideas on
church and society, evidently increased her respect for him.

George must not be forgotten as a member of our circle, and never can be
by those who were in it. His vivacity did much to relieve us from the
depression that brooded over us. He and Clara Van, as he had taken to
calling her as a sort of play upon caravan,--for was she not a whole
team in herself? he would say,--he and Clara had many a lively contest
of words, and were well matched in their powers of wit and repartee.

Thus there were lights as well as shades, relief as well as depression,
in our social life, but over it all was a shadow, the shadow of my
mother-in-law.

CHAPTER X.

MY MOTHER-IN-LAW SUBDUED.

As I was saying, I made up my mind that our happiness was marred by
habitual submission to mother-in-law, and I determined to shake off the
nightmare, to assert myself, and to reduce that stately crown of gray
puffs to a subordinate place. How was I to do it? There was nothing that
I could make the cause of direct complaint, and it was hard to get into
a downright conflict which would involve plain speaking. I consulted
with Bessie, and she agreed with me, and promised to assume the
direction of household affairs. She did not like to hurt her mother's
feelings, but she admitted that it was best for her to be mistress. I
could but admire the matronly firmness and tact with which she played
her part. She gave her orders and told her mother what she proposed to
do, and then proceeded to execute it as if there was no room for
question. If opposition was made, she very quietly and firmly insisted.
Her mother was astonished and had some warm words, in which she accused
me of trying to set her daughter against her.

"Oh, no," said Bessie, "Charlie does not wish to set me against you or
to have you made unhappy, but he thinks it better that I should be the
mistress here, and I quite agree with him, and propose henceforth to be
the mistress."

The widow was not offended, but hurt. She had too much good sense not to
see the propriety of our decision, and she surrendered and tried not to
appear affected.

This was the first victory. Another time, at the table, she had
exercised her prescriptive right of extinguishing me for some remark of
which she did not approve. I fired up and remarked, "I have the right to
speak my own opinion i