Frank lives in peace with this
spirit--even on friendly terms. Angela reads him pious stories from the
legends of the saints. He goes with her to church, where he listens
with attention to the word of God. He hears mass as devoutly as a
Capuchin; not to say any thing of Richard, who runs a race with Angela
for the prize of piety. Could you not also make some sacrifice to the
whims of your wife?"

"Angela and Ida--day and night!" said the director bitterly. "The two
Franks make no sacrifice to female whims. They appreciate her exalted
views, they admire her purity, her unspeakable modesty, her shining
virtues. The two Franks acted reasonably when they adopted the
principles that produced such a woman. Angela never speaks to her
husband in defiance and bad temper. If clouds gather in the matrimonial
heaven, she dissipates them with the breath of love. Is the sacrifice
of a wish wanted? Angela makes it. Is her pure feeling offended by
Richard's faults? She kisses them away and raises him to her level.
My wife--is she not just the opposite in every thing? Is she not
quick-tempered, bitter, loveless, extravagant, and stiff-necked? Has
she a look--I will not say of love--but even of respect for me? Do not
all her thoughts and acts look to the pleasures of the toilette, the
opera, balls, and concerts? O my poor children! who grow up without a
mother, in the hands of domestics. How is any concession possible here?
Must not my position, my self-respect, the last remnant of manly
dignity go to the wall?"

"Your case is lamentable, friend! Your principles and those of your
wife do not agree. Concession to the utmost point of duty, joined with
prudent reform in many things, may, perhaps, bring back, harmony and a
good understanding between you. You praise Angela: follow her example.
She abominates the air of the theatre. The opera-glasses of the young
men levelled at her offend her deeply, and bring to her angelic
countenance the blush of shame. Her fine religious feeling is offended
at many words, gestures, and dances which a pious Christian woman
should not hear and see. Yet she goes to the opera because Richard
wishes it. Her husband will at last observe this heroism of love, and
sacrifice the opera to it. What Angela cannot obtain by prayers and
representations, she gains by the all-conquering weapons of love. In
like manner and for a like object yield to your wife. She is, at least,
not a firebrand. Love must overcome her st