easier for her. He was not strong, and it was her wish that he should not exert himself in the least. All she asked of him was to look after the servants, order the dinners, entertain the children when the nurse was busy, and be cheerful and pleasant the short time she was at home. Surely, it was little enough to ask of him; and it was hard that he should fail even in this.
". . . WHILE I SIT HERE ALONE WITHOUT EVEN A PAPER TO READ."
When, two years previous, equal suffrage had been graciously granted to women, Mr. Dawson, being then in failing health, had most cheerfully turned his real-estate business over to his wife. At first she managed it under his advice and instructions. He was simply amazed at the ease with which she "caught on." In less than six months she ceased to ask for suggestions, and his proffered advice was received with such a chill surprise that it soon ceased altogether.
At first the change had seemed like heaven to Mr. Dawson. It was a delightful novelty to give orders about dinners and things to maids who giggled prettily at his mistakes; to have the children brought in by the respectfully amused nurse for an hour's romp; to entertain his gentlemen friends at afternoon "smokers" (Mrs. Dawson's dainty afternoon tea-table had been removed to the garret; a larger table, holding cigars, decanters, etc., had taken its place); to saunter down to his wife's office whenever he felt inclined.
But the maids soon grew accustomed to the change. They received some of his more absurd orders with more insolence than merriment. He began to have an uneasy feeling in their presence. They really were not respectful. The nurse no longer smiled when she brought the children. What was worse, she left them with him much more than at first.
The children themselves, somehow, seemed to be getting out of clothes and out of manners. He told the nurse to have some clothes made for them. She asked what seamstress he preferred, and what material.
"I don't know," he answered, helplessly. "Get any good seamstress, and let her select the materials."
The nurse brought a friend from the country. She asked him how he wished them made.
"How?" he repeated, with some anger. "Why, in the fashion, of course." She made them in the style then in vogue in Stumpville. When he saw them, he swore. When he spoke to his wife about it, she replied, with an impatience that strove to be good-natured, "Why, my dear, I don't trouble you about my business perplexities, do I? Really, I haven't time to think of so much—with this campaign on my shoulders, too. You must try to manage better. Find stylish seamstresses—and don't trust even them. Study the magazines and styles yourself. It is quite a study—but I am sure you have time. And while I think about it, dear, I wish you would see that the roasts are not overdone."
The smokers and little receptions among the men became bores.
So many women now being in business, their husbands were compelled to maintain the family position in society. Mr. Dawson submitted. But he considered it an infernal nuisance to carry his wife's cards around with him. Sometimes he could not remember how many gentlemen there were in a family.
There was something worse than all this. He could not fail to perceive, in spite of the usual masculine obtuseness in such matters, that he was no longer welcome at his wife's office. She received him politely but coldly. Then she ignored his presence. If she chanced to be busy, she at once became very busy—aggressively so, in fact. If idle, she immediately found something to engross her attention.
