dying with ennui."

"You speak as if I were derelict in this matter."

She drew herself up with some dignity of manner.

"I merely prescribed a remedy for a disease from which you are
suffering," said I, calmly. "Thousands of women scattered all over the
land are martyrs to this disease; and there is only one remedy--that
which I offer to you, Delia."

I think she saw, from my manner, that it would be useless to quarrel
with me. I was so much in earnest that truth came to my lips in any
attempt at utterance.

"What would you have me do, Doctor?" There was a petty fretfulness in
her voice. "Turn cook or nursery-maid?"

"Yes, rather than sit idle, and let your restless mind fret itself for
want of useful employment into unhappiness."

"I cannot take your prescription in that crude form," she replied, with
more seriousness than I had expected.

"It is not requisite to a cure," said I. "Only let your thought and
purpose fall into the sphere of home. Think of your husband as one to be
made happier by your personal control of such household matters as touch
his comfort; of your babes as tender, precious things, blessed by your
sleepless care, or hurt by your neglect; of your domestics, as requiring
orderly supervision, lest they bring discord into your home, or waste
your substance. Every household, Delia, is a little government, and the
governor must be as watchful over all its concerns as the governor of a
state. Take, then, the reins of office firmly into your hands, dispose
of everything according to the best of your judgment, and require
orderly obedience from every subject. But act wisely and kindly. Do
this, my young friend, and you will not be troubled with the fashionable
complaint--ennui."

"That is, sink down into a mere housekeeper," she remarked; "weigh out
the flour, count the eggs, fill the sugar bowls, and grow learned in
cookery-books. I think I see myself wandering about from cellar to
garret, jingling a great bunch of keys, prying into rubbish-corners, and
scolding lazy cooks and idle chambermaids!"

She laughed a short, artificial laugh, and then added--

"Is that the picture of what you mean, Doctor?"

"It is the picture of a happier woman than you are, Delia," said I,
seriously.

The suggestion seemed to startle her.

"You speak very confidently, Doctor."

"With the confidence of one who makes diseases and their cure his study.
I know something of the human soul as well as the human bo