Booth Tarkington

“ Elliot's laughter and color both became a little more pronounced. “A wife's home task is to keep her husband well and happy, isn't it?” she inquired gayly. “Contentment is happiness, they say. Well, a man's discontented when he isn't having his way; so it follows that when he's contented, he believes he is having his way.”
“Mamma!” exclaimed Muriel. “And so what you're really telling me is—”
“Nothing!” Mrs. Elliot laughed, interrupting her daughter quickly. “Nothing at all! And you must be sure not to let Renfrew dream I've even spoken of your dining-room at all. ”

“ Her son's mild and rather wistful face showed forth the faint illumination of a smile so dreamily fond that a certain anxiety Mrs. Mears already felt for him grew stronger. “Of course I didn't want blue so much as Muriel wanted black and white,” he said. “And she knows better than I do, naturally.” ”

“ He was so deeply touched he spoke almost brokenly.
“Muriel! I—I know I don't deserve you! What other girl in the world would say what you just said to me? That all the rest of the house was ours together—none of it just yours alone— but this is to be just mine!”
“Foolish!” She laughed, patted his cheek again, and moved toward the stairway to descend. “So that's settled!” she said. “Now let's go down to where it's 'ours together.'”
RENFREW followed, overcome by the sense of his unworthiness, and he was still muttering something about it when they reached the hall on the ground floor. ”

“ Muriel said with a thoughtfulness that her mother seemed to find rather obscure.
“You'd better learn how a cat can eat a Pekinese, Muriel?”
“No,” said Muriel. “How to put everything on 'father.'” And she continued to eat raspberries and cream demurely, without looking up.
“Poor Renfrew!” her mother sighed. “Don't learn too much, Muriel! How do you think he'll take to your idea of a Pekinese? Have you told him you're going to use your new married freedom for this purpose?”
“No,” Muriel replied. “But he loves dogs. ”

“ Mears said then, as she sat with her husband in the firelight.
“You warned him against what? Pekinese spaniels?”
“No. I warned him that marriage was not a bed of roses, but a field of battle.”
“Ah, yes,” Mr. Mears said reflectively. “You certainly could tell him that, Mamma! It's funny, though.”
“What is?”
“That it should be the conquerors who are always warning people,” he explained. ”

“ Elliot said. “Of course I understood a Pekinese would have made your home life much more bearable, but you know as well as I do that your poor father doesn't like dogs, and especially little dogs. We could scarcely expect to keep a Pekinese in the house as long as he has that prejudice; and you have to keep a Pekinese in the house if you keep one anywhere. If you let it run around alone outdoors, probably some cat would eat it.” ”

“ A man's share of the house ought to be bigger: he needs more room.”
“But I don't see—”
“Listen, dear,” she said. 'Below the third floor it's all yours and mine together; each has it all just as much as the other does; but from the bottom of the third floor stairs up, it's all just yours—your private and special domain. So this is your gun-room or anything else you want it to be. Some day, if you like. you could put wall-board around; and we can stick hooks and things just anywhere in a big place like this, and you can hang your shooting things on 'em. Don't you like my idea, Renfrew?” ”

“ Mother's always been afraid they'd muddy the house all up on rainy days; and besides, that far downtown, of course, it hardly seemed fair to the dogs themselves—no place to run without taking the chance of getting killed by automobiles. But I've always said if I ever had a house of my own—”
“So have I,” Muriel interrupted amiably. “I've never been able to keep a dog at home, either, Renfrew. Mamma doesn't like 'em and persuaded Papa into thinking he didn't; so he wouldn't let me; but I've always thought that if I married a man that wanted a dog, he should have one. ”

“ Her husband turned his graying head to stare at her. “And may I inquire which party to the conflict you would define as the vanquished?”
“'Which party?'” she cried incredulously,- but did not look at him. “Why, we are!”
“Good heavens!” he said, and returned his eyes to gaze despairingly at the fire. “When the ladies claim to be the vanquished, what chance has a man? Poor old Renfrew!” .
Another of Booth Tarkington's delightful stories about Muriel and Renfrew will appear in an early issue. ”

“ It was unfortunate that Renfrew couldn't hear it.
“I'm sorry, Muriel,” Mrs. Elliot was saying reflectively. “I'm really very sorry you didn't end by telling Renfrew you thought blue would be prettier for your dining-room. It's so dreadfully important for young people to start just right and not have any disagreement they might remember afterward.” ”

“ Renfrew laughed. “And how about Father?” he asked.
“Oh, your father!” Mrs. Mears exclaimed lightly, and laughed too. “What I'm leading up to is my regret that you don't seem to have inherited a little of his obstinacy! The truth is, I think you and Muriel will both be happier if you begin by showing more firmness with her.”
Upon so radical a suggestion, Renfrew's laughter was instantly dispelled by a troubled gravity. “Happier? Both of us? Muriel too? Do you think so?”
“I know it,” she assured him earnestly. “It's the beginning that counts so much more than young people guess ”

“ If you do, you'll keep on, for the simple reason that when two people fall into that habit—one always having her way and the other yielding—it may take a serious quarrel to break such a habit, and the fear of that kind of a quarrel is likely to make the yielding one keep on yielding forever. It isn't good for either of 'em. It's bad for the one person: to be allowed to become too selfish—and it's mighty uncomfortable for the other to be too unselfish all your life! ”

“ I really hate it; I hate guns and shooting. clothes and everything connected with hunting—but of course for a while I'm going to be tactful and not let him see that.”
THIS determination of Muriel's, to be tactful, she began to put into effect immediately; for Renfrew arrived just then to drive her out to where, on the modish fringe of the growing city, their unfinished bride-and-groom house now enlivened a little April grove with the whistlings of plasterers, the laughter of anecdotal plumbers and the songs of carpenters. ”

“ A dog's meant to be a man's little companion—a gentle little friend to meet him at the door when h comes home. A dog's meant to amuse his master and make hin laugh. Oh, Renfrew, think of a wonderful, fluffy, tiny thing rolling on his little back on a cushion, or fighting with a ball of yarn on the floor!”
But here the confused Renfrew failed to follow her, so to speak. That is, his confusion had only deepened. “You mean a—a—He paused, then began again, apologetically: “You don't mean a—a kitten, Muriel?”
“No,” Muriel answered, laughing at him sweetly. “You dear, queer thing! I hate cats. ”

“ I've always thought shooting little birds and deer was really cruel—not consciously, of course, but more a perfectly natural relic of barbarism left over inside us from our ancestors. don't believe it's good for Renfrew spiritually, and hope he'll gradually get so interested in books and music he wont care to go out killing things. ”

“ Mears, after exchanging a glance with her husband, inquired: “Where's the keynote going to be?”
“Why, there'll be little dark-blue floral figures on the furniture, and a pair of blue glass candlesticks, and a blue embroidered strip for the table, and I don't know what all!”
“Oh, I see!” said Mrs. Mears. “Did you settle about your gun-room?”
“Did we!” he echoed enthusiastically. “She's arranged for me to take absolutely the whole third floor, if I need it.”
“You mean the att—
“The whole third floor, Mother! We own all the downstairs together, but above that she wants it to be all mine!” ”

“ The only kind of dogs he likes are big, muddy dogs—you know how he detests lapdogs and toy dogs—and he's sure he's going to have his setters in the house.”
Mr. Mears shook his head wonderingly, and then appeared to muse, his eyes twinkling soberly in the firelight. “A remarkable girl, Muriel. Very unusual.”
“Oh, I don't know,” said his wife. “About the dining-room?”
“Oh, yes; she was usual about that!” he assented. “But if she gives up to him in such things as guest-rooms for guns, and two Irish setters in an old-rose drawing-room—”
“Hush!” Mrs. ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1946, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 77 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”