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THE

us.

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MANSION.

us. Yet I knew, that, if Mr. Talbot had a fault, it waa in being inflexible to obstinacy, in regard to what he thought the right, and especially in regard to the conduct of women. On some points also I suspected that be was the victim of what, in any other, I should hare called prejudice. I felt, instinctively, that this was one of those points.

Mr. Talbot was silent for a moment. He bit his lip, looking on the ground, evidently both annoyed and hurt. At last he spoke.

“You really must give up this visit, Marga¬ ret,” he said. “I cannot consent to let you go.”

Had he spoken differently, had his tone been less authoritative, I might have yielded. But alas! for both of us, he roused all the woman in me by these words.

The blood mounted to my forehead. Consent! Was he, then, my master? No! I was not mar¬ ried yet; and I could, and would, do as I pleased.

Besides, ought not husband and wife to be alike as to rights? Was not each entitled to his or her conscientious opinion? Was not any at¬ tempt, on the part of the man, to claim authority to oontrol the woman, tyrannical?

It is true I loved Mr. Talbot. But was I, like so many other women, those recreants to their sex as I had been accustomed to call them, to abandon my principles at the first temptation? Was I also to become a slave, because I loved? My eye kindled, as these thoughts passed through me.

Mr. Talbot read my sentiments. But he was as resolute, as unflinching as myself.

“Margaret,” he said, at last, solemnly, “ think well what you are about to do. It is no mere whim that makes me object to your seeing Geor¬ gians. If you could visit her without involving me, I would stop with an expostulation-”

“But now you command-”

I spoke in some heat. God forgive me! But I was irritable from that weeks anxiety, and his tone, whether he meant it or not, was even more exasperating than his words.

He looked at me in surprise. Then his brow begin to contract.

“I will be frank with you, Marggret,” he said. “We are to be married so soon, that 1 think I have a right, equitably at least, to exercise some control over you even now. As my wife I can¬ not consent to your assooiating with your eousin. Her husband is a mere adventurer. Once, as you know, I had almost sent him to the peni¬ tentiary. You cannot visit his wife, without, as oy wife, countenaeing him; and to that extent embarrassing me. He will boast of an acquaint¬ ance, nay! connection, and so secure entree into circles whence otherwise he would be excluded. He is full of tact. If you notice them at all, he will obtain character and credit in consequenee of it. This I cannot consent to. I must insist, therefore, that you do not go, unless,” he paused, “unless you promise, at the same time, never to repeat the visit.”

I believe 1 would have yielded to this compro¬ mise, if it had not been for that one word “in¬ sist;” for I felt the force of his argument. Fer a moment, indeed, I was on the point of giving way. But a something within me whispered that I was weak; that I was surrendering to love and not to conviction; and this made me as firm as a rock.

“Mr. Talbot,” I said, coldly, “I believe I am a reasoning creature as well as yourself. And I have a duty to perform to others as well as lb you. Through my neglect, Georgians has be¬ come the with of this man; I owe her some re¬ paration; and as long as she wishes me to stand by her, 1 will not be so cowardly as to cast her off.”

We looked at each other. Neither flinched.

“So be it,” replied Mr. Talbot, beginning to button up his coat. He was greatly agitated. “So be it.” He took a step or two as if departing.

But suddenly he turned, walked up to me, and seized my hand.

“Margaret,” he cried, in a voice husky with emotion. “For God*s sake think what you do! Be just to yourself as well as to me. Let us not be separated on so trivial a matter. If you love me, you will make this sacrifice.”

His first words had melted me. His last made me as rigid as ever.

“If I do not love you,” I said, “because I will not yield, neither do you love me, for neither will you yield. But since you say I don’t love, the sooner this bauble,” and I took my engage¬ ment ring from my finger, “is returned to you* the better.”

He did not, at first, take the ring. He waa more forbearing than myself. He looked at me steadily. If there had been any relenting oa his part, I might have relented also. But I saw that he was waiting, not because there was any chance of his opinion changing, but because ho hoped mine would, and that I would yield. He evidently thought, that, in the relations that existed between us, it was as much my duty to obey as if I bad been his wife; and he as evi- dently held to the belief that the husband was the head of the household. Something of this found expression.

“I was too hasty,” he said, still hesitating^