e," said Miss Essie. "When a
woman marries, she naturally expects her husband to belong to her;--but
a minister belongs to everybody else!"

"I see I have not studied the subject," said Mr. Linden. "Miss Essie,
you are giving me most important information. Is this so inevitable
that I ought in conscience to warn the lady beforehand?"

Miss Essie smiled graciously. "It would be no use,--she wouldn't
believe you. _I_ might warn her. I have seen it."

"What have you seen?"

"Why that!--that a woman who marries a minister needn't expect to have
any more of her husband than his clothes to mend."

"Melancholy statement!" said Mr. Linden.

"It's of no use to tell it to a man!" said Miss Essie. "But I have seen
it."

"Not in my house."

"I shall see it in your house, if you ever let me in there--but it will
be too late to warn then. Very likely _you_ will not see it."

Faith sat with one hand shielding her face from this speaker, though by
that means it was more fully revealed to the other. Her other hand, and
her eyes as far as possible, were lost in the bunch of cowslips; her
colour had long ceased to be varying. She sat still as a mouse.

"No, I shall not see it. To what end would your warnings be directed,
if they could reach her in time?"

"To keep her from taking such a trying position."

"Oh--" said Mr. Linden. "Have you no feeling for me, Miss Essie? It is
very plain why you scrupled to eat salt with me this morning!"

"I'll eat salt with you as a single man," said Miss Essie,--"but if you
are going to be a minister, be generous, and let your wife go! Any
other woman will tell you so."

"Let her go where? With me?--that is just what I intend."

"Yes," said Miss Essie,--"and then--you'll never know it--but she will
sit alone up stairs and sew while you are writing your sermons, and
she'll sit down stairs and sew while you're riding about the country or
walking about the town; and she'll go out alone of your errands when
you have a cold that keeps you at home; and the only time she hears you
speak will be when you speak in the pulpit! And if you ask her whether
she is happy, she will say yes!--"

Despite all her desperate contusion, the one visible corner of Faith's
mouth shewed rebellion against order. Mr. Linden laughed with most
unterrified amusement.

"If she says that, it will be so, Miss Essie--my wife will be a most
uncompromising truth-teller. But in your picture _I_ am the one to be
pitied.