The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1868-11-10
he KNEW HE WAS RIGHT,
BY ANTHONY TROLLOPE.
CHAPTER v.
Continued

He sbould have nourished no such
thoughts in his heart. He had, indeed,
been generous to his wife and to his
wife's family; but we may almost say
that the man who is really generous IN
such matters is unconscious or his own
generosity. The giver Who gives the
most, gives, and does not know that he
gives. And had not she given too1 In
that matter of giving between Il man
and his wife, if each gives all, the TWO
are equal, let the things given be what
they may! King COphetua did nothing
for his beggar maid, unless she were 10
him, after he had married her, as royaia
queen as though he had taken her from
the Oldest stock of rcignlng families
then extant. Trevelyan knew all tins
himself,-had said to himself score OF
times, though not probably III spoken
words. or formed sentences. but, that
all was equal between himself and the
wife of his bosom had been thing as
certained by him as certainty. There
was no debt of gratitude from her to
him which he did not acknowledge to
exist also as from him to her. But yet, In
his anger, he could not keep himself
from thinking of the gifts he had show
cred upon her. And he had been, was,
would ever be, if she would only allow
IL so true to her He had selected no
other friend to take her place in his
conncilsl There was no "dear Mary" or
'dear Augusta" with whom be had secrets
to be kept from his wife. When there
arose with him any question OF interest,",
-ouestion of interest such as was this
of the return of Sir Marmaduke to her,
he would show it in all its bearings to
his wife. He had his secrets too, but
his secrets had all been made secrets 1or
her also. There was not a woman IN the
world in whose company he took speclai
delight in her absence.
And if there had been, how much less
would have been her ground of COM
plainti Let a man have any such
friendships,-what friendships he may,
he does not disgrace his wife. He.
felt himself to be so true of heart that
he desired no such friendships; but for
a man indulging in such friendships
there might be an excuse. Even though
a man be false, a woman is not shamed
and brought into the dust before all the
world. But the slightest rnmOr on
woman's name is 4 load of intamy on
her husbands shoulders. 1t was not
enough for Caesar that his wife should
be true; it was necessary to C3'a that
she should not even be suspected
Trevelyan told himself that he suspect
ed his wife of no sin. God forbid that
il should ever come to that, both Tor
his sake and for hers; and, above all,
for the sake of that boy who was SO
dear to them both! But there would
be the vile whispers, and dirty sland-
ers would be dropped from envlous
tongues into envious ears, and minds
prone to evil would think evil of him
and of his. Had not Lady Mil5Orough
already cautioned him' . that he
should have lived to have been caution
ed about his wife;-that he should be
told that eyes outside had looked into
the sacred shrine of his heart and seen
that things there were fatally amiss
And vet Lady Milborough was quite
right. Had he not in his hand at this
moment document that proved her to
be right "Dear Emily" He took
this note and crushed it in his fist, and
then pulled it into fragments.
But what should he dot There was,
first of all considerations, the duty |
which he owed to his wife, and the love
which he bore her. That she was ignor-
ant and innocent he was sure; but then |
she was 81 contumaeieus that he hardly |
knew how to take step in the direction
Of guarding her from the effects of her |
ignorance, and maintaining for her the |
advantages of her innocence. He was
her master, and she must know that he
was her master. But how Was he to pro-
eeed when she refused to obey the
plainest and most necessary command |
which he laid upon heri Let man be !
ever SO mach his wiie's master, he can
not maintain his mastcrdOm by any
mower which the law places in his
hands. He had asked his wife for q
promise of obedience, and she wonld not
give it TO him! What was he to do
nextf He could, no doubt,-at least he
thought so,-kcep the man from her
presence. lie could order the servant
not to admit tine man, and the servant
would, doubtless, obey him. But tol
what a condition would he then have
been brought Would not the world |
then be over for him,-Over for him as
the husband of n wife whom he could |
not love unless lie respected ner Better !
that there should be no such world than |
call IN the aid of servant TO guard the |
conduct of his wife.
As he Thought of it all, it seemed to
him that, If she would not obey him, |
and give him this promise, they must be |
separated. He would not live with her. |
he would not give her the privileges of
his wife, if she refused to render to him
the obedience which was his privilege.
The moro he thought of it, the more con-
WINGED he was that he ought not yield to
Der. Let her once yield to him, and then
his tenderness should begin, and there
should be no limit to it. But he would
not see her till she had yielded. He
would not see Der; and if he should find
that she did see Colonel Osborne, then
he would tell her that she could no
longer dwell under the same roof with