622 The Pimento Family ; or, [JuneE, 
The meeting between the belligerents was what, in military phraseo- 
logy, has been termed “ imposing.” Lady P. brought into the field a 
powerful force of frowns, glances like Parthian darts, a masked battery 
of words, and a well-placed ambush of allies; the whole being backed 
by an irresistible corps de réserve of tears, upbraidings, threats of separa- 
tion, spasms, shrieks, and salts. Sir Peter, on his part, took his ground 
armed at all points, from a thorough consciousness that “ thrice is he 
armed that hath his quarrel just.” The disputed and despised authority 
of the husband, the “ proud mife’s contumely,” had stirred all his soul 
to the war ; and whether domestic peace should smile on him in future, 
and dominion be allowed him over his own little kingdom and rebellious 
subjects, or whether anarchy and riot were to rule, was now at issue. 
Sir Peter advanced to the attack with a bold front, yet affecting no 
more courage than he felt—whilst it was easy to observe that Lady P. 
exhibited a certain flutter of preparation, which betrayed to the wary 
eye of the general the ill-disguised apprehensions of the enemy. 
“ Betty, leave your mistress alone with me,” said the knight. Betty 
did as she was bid, and retired. And now there wasa clear field for the 
contest, and no quarter expected! An awful pause ensued—to fill up 
which, or rather to inspirit himself to the war, Sir Peter, in the absence 
of Spartan fife and drum, whistled a sort of battle symphony. As the 
last war-note died on the gale, Lady P. made demonstrations of a wish 
to parley. 
“ Sir Peter,” said the lady, “do you take chocolate or coffee this 
morning ?” 
Not a word in reply. The silence of a settled purpose sat on the 
soul of Sir Peter, as he half turned away from the table. This was per- 
haps an indiscreet movement, for he thereby left his right wing exposed 
to the light artillery of Lady P., which instantly, as might have been 
expected, commenced a galling fire. 
“ Really, Sir Peter,” said the lady, “ your contempt of me—your 
conduct towards me—your opposition to my most moderate wishes— 
your indifference to my comforts—I can only impute to your having 
grown weary of so virtuous, so conciliating, patient, and careful a 
wife |” 
« Madam!” said Sir Peter, facing to the front. 
« What am I to understand from your behaviour?” demanded the 
lady. 
oem are to understand, Madam,” returned the knight, “ that I have 
at length come to the determination of being the master of my own 
house, and director of my own children, of whom I am, by the law of 
nature, the first protector, and, by the law of society, the legal and pro- 
per guardian; and whom I am, from this day, determined to guard in 
future from the errors into which they have fallen.” 
« Well, Sir Peter,” returned the lady, with an air of infinite astonish- 
ment, “ and who has for a moment disputed it?” 
« I will do you the justice to say, that you have not——” 
«Your candour, Sir Peter, does you honour,” said Lady P., inter- 
rupting him rather too hastily. 
« Hear me out, Madam !—For a moment you have not, but for twenty 
years you have disputed it, inch by inch, instance by instance, day by 
day, night by night.” 
* You surprise me!” said the lady. 
