sily boast
of his felicity, nor, as some new married folks do, thrust it
insultingly under the _nimis unctis naribus_--the turned-up noses of
your surly old married folks, nor force it gaudily and glaringly on the
envious eyes of the single, you might still see that he was a more
cheerful and light-hearted man than before. His smile was less ironical,
his politeness less distant. He did not study Machiavelli so
intensely,--and he did not return to the spectacles; which last was an
excellent sign. Moreover, the humanising influence of the tidy English
wife might be seen in the improvement of his outward or artificial man.
His clothes seemed to fit him better; indeed, the clothes were new. Mrs.
Dale no longer remarked that the buttons were off the wrist-bands, which
was a great satisfaction to her. But the sage still remained faithful to
the pipe, the cloak, and the red silk umbrella. Mrs. Riccabocca had (to
her credit be it spoken) used all becoming and wifelike arts against
these three remnants of the old bachelor Adam, but in vain. "_Anima
mia_--soul of mine," said the Doctor tenderly, "I hold the cloak, the
umbrella, and the pipe, as the sole relics that remain to me of my
native country. Respect and spare them."

Mrs. Riccabocca was touched, and had the good sense to perceive that
man, let him be ever so much married, retains certain signs of his
ancient independence--certain tokens of his old identity, which a wife,
the most despotic, will do well to concede. She conceded the cloak, she
submitted to the umbrella, she concealed her abhorrence of the pipe.
After all, considering the natural villany of our sex, she confessed to
herself that she might have been worse off. But, through all the calm
and cheerfulness of Riccabocca, a nervous perturbation was sufficiently
perceptible;--it commenced after the second week of marriage--it went on
increasing, till one bright sunny afternoon, as he was standing on his
terrace gazing down upon the road, at which Jackeymo was placed,--lo, a
stage-coach stopped! The Doctor made a bound, and put both hands to his
heart as if he had been shot; he then leapt over the balustrade, and his
wife from her window beheld him flying down the hill, with his long hair
streaming in the wind, till the trees hid him from her sight.

"Ah," thought she with a natural pang of conjugal jealousy, "henceforth
I am only second in his home. He has gone to welcome his child!" And at
that reflection Mrs. R