The Ladies' Magazine.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2145, 21 March 1908, Page 1 (Supplement)

The Ladies ' Magazine.

WHAT THEY SAID WHEN I BECAME ENGAGED. AS TOLL) 'BYTtIIE GIRL TOAY'HOAI IT AY AS SAID. (“Ladies’ Homo Journal.”) i suppose if L hail been 'twenty instead of .thirty when I became engaged I should have walked 1 through a golden glow, blind to all except my radiant drown. But 'while my happiness was probably no less gfonious 'than that of <a younger ifianceo my f.ong years in the 'treadmill of a “career” had given me the habit of keeping an eye on the outer world, and cf Living always at call mv sense of humor.

After hoarding my happiness for ;a time I wrote of my engagement to the few relatives I have, who aro quite conservative ladies. The greataunt of whom I am named 'had, on the'principle of bringing me up sternly, never sent me an unalloyed pleasant letter in her life. But I felt sure the one in which she iwished me joy would be. wholly agreeable. She wrote:

“AIY dear Niece: 1 am delighted that after so many years you have had the good fortune (to become engaged to marry. It does not happen every day ut your age, and since Gio is only a year or two Older 'than you, instead of twenty years older, you should show him all the more gratitude and consideration. I am a triad going your own gait so long will have made you rather set in your ways, and you must remember that, all things considered, you should give up to him more (than if you were younger.

"T am so happy (for you. Of course, I have always told pec.plo that you could have married, but I assure you I have been very much annoyed at having to hold up this excuse of ‘a career.’ I ulwaVl ilka to be strictly truthful, but fiaanrf.j pride I will put first, and so I have always spoken as if I thoroughly approved of what you were doing. “I am writing to your fiance saying everything in your favor that I can, not only a.M th.it is true, but all that I with were true, for it may help things along a bit. And, my dear, have .a short engagement if you can manage it, and also see that ho does not get the opportunity of being with younger women very much. You will forgive my frankness, but having married two daughters mid. one son I know •vulrat men can- be. 011 1 If you knew how happy I am never again to say the word ‘career’ of .my favorite niece, but to say ‘marriage’ instead. “Now, i is to a present.. .Would you prefer, etc.” And while the oj,ly;i~!lotters that came frq.aijrte-hftives were less blunt, “TToTuut that, on the whole, the conviction was that I had taken up a career while I was waiting for marriage to come along; that I had somehow failed because I had not married, but that consideration demanded that it must .seem to the world that I preferred my fate. , Those letters rather made me sensitive, and whenever people said to me, “I avant to 'congratulate you,” instead of, “I wish you joy,” I wondered if they were just blundering, or .were being—well, sincere. Then, still before the public announcement, I paid .a visit to “his” family. Oh, the anxiety of the preparations for that visit 1 I liked pretty clothes; wouf.d they, very conservative people; think I was too gay? What would they consider the proper amount of baggage? Above all, would they like me? When wo met I found that “he” had certainly described them all wrong to me, (and I trembled at the picture they must Tm-rt-lia-d pfjre. nce ace f' ac< S my sense of humor bubbled up at the way we kept estimating each other, while on the surface we wore going through the social motions per-., fectly. They were dear, lovable people, but. still hurt that “he” must be given up in part to someone else. I had to tell them by the same method of delicate (indirection which they usecWn questioning that, though I was slender, I was tremendously strong, .never having spent a day in bed in my life; that I believed (in fresh air and open windows and nine hours’ sleep; that I thought a family ought to be brought, up to go to church ,rain or shine,; that I would not yearn for my career once .it had gone; dial- though intellectual, as “his” wife ought to he, 1 should always put him .and his work first; that I preferred my own. fireside, once I could get it, to any club or company ever gathered together, in short, I had to prove my conversion to decorous domesticity. Then I had to expound my views oil the best methods of taking care of him, anil on what ho should or siliouhl not do. It was .a problem to get up the f atter, as I IliafT supposed ire should each do as we liked in our own ways, unless the ways clashed. It struck me then that the majority of ivomon think .a man has to be managed in most things; that though lie is the head of the family, tho scource of financial supplies and' of accurate information, still he is, in many ways, just a kind of superior child. ' Alter they began ito approve of me the conversation got upon a less embarrassing basis, and 1 was shown, his baby pictures and given a list of his virtues to which I could have added. What they chiefly .taught ma was that mothers and sisters generally feel the marriage of a son and brother to be a -more critical experiment than the marriage of a daughter anil sister; and also that n mifo should itry to be the link that will bind her husband closer to his own people. Their - real unity, her flius-ba-nd’s need of them, lies in her hands, and she should remember that he has been theirs .for almost as many years as De will be hers. The next foot I learned was 'the freemasonry that exists among married women. For about eight years I had belonged to a ommunity in which I had done work entirely lincon .pic-nous; certainly, if it had been a man’s work it would have been fairly well rewarded. At a tea given me juft after the public announcement of my engagement, three married women of the community said: “I am delighted to welcome you into our midst.” fVhtie I had devoted myself to work rather than to the- people about ine, ':still I had supposed myself t-o have been “in their midst” for eight years. Then 1 watched closely, and

1 am sure there was something >< w in their kindly manner. It was not simply the almost .affectionate cordiality that, is given 'because all the world hives a lover. Of course, 1 had recognised that a married woman's interests are different from those ol an unmarried woman. But here was not an assumption of difference (merely ; there was something of a flavor of superiority .that,l had never before realized.

“You are (getting away from till' outskirts of life,” their manner said, “and into the great realities. All the brilliancy and charm a spinster may have, ail the experience that can come to her, are small indeed compared to- our portion. No matter how useful she may be to the world she is still excluded from us. So far von have been an outsider, but soon the*barriers will be down and you will be one of us. We Wellcome you beforehand.” Of course, -‘their life is the normal one. but I determined then and there that when I was one ol 4 thein 1 shouldnever, by word or look, give an unmarried woman the chance of accusing me of shutting her oft' in a world of her own.

The next revelation was the stream of advice turned upon me. I was told that considering I was not in my earliest youth I must have an exceptionally good trousseau, for in any case people always scrutinize one's clothes most narrowly when ono ,is newly married ; that I must bo sure, (if I felt- tired, not to wear a trying color for fear I should look draggled, and it might be thought by some one or other that I was not supmnei’.v happy. I was offered dozens of receipts, and glad enough I was of them; I was given advice about house-furnishing, and about servants. Everyone seemed to want to smooth my domestic path. And I was reminded of my experience with “his” people in the number of cautions that were given me (in regard to him.

Almost unanimously (those who spoke most intimately to me told me to beware of the first- year. “That is the time of trial,’ they said. “Then the isisunderst Tidings and quarrels spring no. Oh, my dear, be careful, be carer iL for if you are not you cannot hope to bo happy in the years that cnr.ic aiu r. The first Tittle flood appear?, jou scarcely know how, and then —’

If only one hail said that 1 should not have "given special heed to the warning. But so many said it, with chastened faces and dropped voices, hinting of deep domestic trials which only their infinite tact had surmounted and which loyalty forbade them to reveal to me, that 1 began to wonder if I were going to deserve their commiseration. Dird all married people quarrel during the first year?’ Was it the fault of the man or of the woman ? And must- I recognise a quarrel when it first, thrust up its shadowy head, or must I wait till it loomed like a genie out cf an Arabian 'Nights’ bottle? It was as well that I decided to wait, for, unless the plaintive question, “Dear, didn’t you say Alary would have breakfast at eight; and do you know it’s a quarter past?” and the reply, “Dearest, I tcf.cl her eight, but to-morrow I’ll say seven-forty-five, and please don’t show her that you notice the time”—unless these constitute a quarrel, then our horizon has been -for a year and a half quite undimmed.

The other .advice afforded me more amusement than .perturbation. Tbe brother of my housekeeper, Kathleen, came to wish me.joy. “And if you will listen to an old man, Miss,” said he, “you will mind out -liow you let him treat you. A our father is ito give you a house,.l hear. AAfol'l, I’d give him. the run of it, (but I would not be giving hiim the deed to it, I would not, now. Don’t fare him think he can smoke every day in your nice new curtains; stop him now and then ,to show him your hind’s your own still. I wouidn’t tell him' too much, ayther. Don’t let him know if ever there was another man, for .if things go wrong some day, throw -it up to you lie will.” I -might have been more deeply impressed by the sincerity o.f Terence if I had not afterward heard him telling my fiance that it would he better not to give me so numb rope that I’d trip us both up anil make a bad job of.-it entirely. Tho grocer’s wife, one of my coworkers 'in church, came .into her -husband's shop one morning when I was practicing marketing, to offer mo her good wishes.

“Now, marriage is t.lie best thing,” she said in a mysterious voice, “mid I would not confess to- any one lint you that it has its trials. But take this from me: as you begin on your wedding day, so you will have to continue. Above a 111, never, never .put out fils clean clothes for him of a Sunday morning, for if you do you’ll have to keep .it up for the rest of your life.” But- itiho most striking suggestion came from a woman of the community that stood ready to take tine into its m.idst.

“I wouidn’t tell you anything of what you may expect till I was sure it was too late for you to retreat,” she said, “for I don’t likg. io discourage anyone. But you’ll learn that your brain-work in your career is simple compared to the brain-work you will have to put on your house arid -hsiiband. But above ai’.l, remember that men aro all alike in this; they .will not go out .in the evening if they can possibly get on*, of it. Why, 1 don’t know, for I am sure they don’t work any harder than we do. They will get behind .a- newspaper, or perhaps they will let you sing to them, anil- go to sleep over the very song they bought you when you were engaged. They’ll make all sorts of excuses to stay in. Don’t allow it; put your foot down from the beginning, and don’t mind if they make a low -scenes. I-t’s for their own good that .men should, go to the theatre and t : o receptions. And at itions don’t (let him ilo like half ..'-I - husbands 1 know—moon around talking to other men, or palpablywaiting to go borne.” Before I repeated this to “him” he tokl me that this woman’s (husband had just taken him aside to advise him that I -should not be allowed to “catch the social germ” —to quote precisely. There were many other things said to me that seemed funny, but- now and then -I was touched by pathos. The attitude of imy own contemporaries, unmarried women of front thirty

lo thirty-five, made mo -feel very tender toward them. They were no u’.v all women who, like myself, had chosen a career. 1 am sure that many of them were doing as useful a work in the world as many mothers -aud -as .many men. One there was who had made .possible, at (the expense of a fireside 1 iI o lor lliorscl.l, the happiness of hundreds of mothers and children. Who 'would have (fell, .it- wrong to change, 1 think; but, excepting her, all those women- regarded mo with a kind of w.istlulnoss. They .let mo see, some indirectly, sonic openly, that mine -was the better part. Some of them plucked up hope for themselves. “I m only a year your senior,” said one; “who knows' hut that my fairy prince will come along yet? While I don’t think I have ye.t acquired itiho .matchmaking habit of which married women* are accused, I wMi with all! my heart that 1 could find fairy princes for all these good and capable women workers. 1 am sure that many of .them are lonely. I am sure that for some there is much sacrifice and little com-po-iiUT tion. I don’t know one who is working for herself alone. I know many who are daily helping others toward a chance of happiness. And I havo observed that many of them, with the thought unit .by of husband and children of their own, are hoping some day to, be able to adopt children. I,t has been a wonderful -time, for people are so good to those who have just learned to dove. Nearly every one who wished me joy reminded mo that there is a golden glow about tho engagement period that never conus again, though, of course, better things do come. And I listened to the serious remarks with as warm '>» appreciation as to the funny ones. But of all the many words 'that were said to me, conventional, humorous, pathetic, deep or w.’.se, tho words of my housekeeper, Kathleen, a widow, struck home most keenly. “There’ll be shadow as well «s sunshine, ucushla,” she said; “but iemember that .love—and, moro than that, the way you take love—makes all the differ in life. If there do be two hands joined and two. hearts that understand, all the black chances m the world cannot take love away from von. At the worst you have your memories; at the best you have each other till God needs ono of you more than you need each other.”