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Rh her good-by and tell her that you hoped she would be happy all the day long. It is a little thing, to be sure, but you trained her to this caress during the honey-moon, and you hurt her feelings when you leave her without a word now. A woman, my friend, is not an angel, but she is a sensitive being who likes to have, as a wife, the expression of affection that you gave her as a sweetheart, and during that happy month after she was a bride.

She thinks it is queer that you didn't discover that she possessed all these faults before you married her. And she wonders, as she sits by herself and stares out of the window, why, if she had so many faults, anybody ever cared for her. It is true that the breakfast was very bad. It is also true that she has had four or five cooks within the last two months, but she is trying her very best to get a good one, and she does wish that you would encourage her a little bit in her troubles and not find fault with her all the time, especially this morning when her head aches as if it would split. She could have said some very nasty things to you when you spoke to her, but she tried not to, and then you called her sulky. And she wonders if men ever have headaches as women do. And her back aches, too, and still