The second Mrs. Boldenough was a complete and entire contrast to the first. She was so nearly equal to her husband in stature and in size that she might almost have succeeded in giving him, what no person had ever been known to do, and what he certainly had long required: namely, a good flogging. She had a pair of cheeks like nothing in _this_ world except two prize Spitzenberg apples, black eyes, fierce and bright and far-seeing almost to a miracle, and a voice that went through your head like a milkman's whistle, whilst the continued sound of her conversation resembled a gong at the great hotels. Boldenough she was by name, and Boldenough by nature; her carriage, erect and firm, and rapid as a locomotive, seemed to require the ringing of a little bell before her, to keep the unwary off the tracks, after the manner of most railway trains. She was afraid of nothing in the heavens above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth. She could break the most unruly horse, fire at a mark with a perfect aim, and collar any man who should show her any impertinence, with a coolness and strength of limb perfectly wonderful to behold. Born to command, she was not angry but merely surprised that any one should dream of controlling her. It was only after a long resistance to her wishes that the full torrent of her rage burst forth, but with an overwhelming fury. The French say "C'est le coeur qui fait le grenadier." If this be true, what a very respectable regiment might be formed from the ranks of the fair sex in all parts of the world, were they but armed and equipped as the law directs! What an irresistible army would that be which should be formed of troops like these! My friend, Mrs. Boldenough, would have made an excellent commander to these imaginary forces, and would, no doubt, have been as entirely successful in overrunning the enemy's country and driving him from his last entrenchments, as she was in the domestic circle triumphant over husband and servants, and sweeping before her the convivial revellers of the former by means of the rapid extinction of feudal customs, in the shape of suppers and dinner parties. Mr. Boldenough attempted to make a gallant defence; he stormed, raved, threatened, commanded, and exhorted; scenes of conflict, dreadful to witness, took place between the warlike hosts. The lord of the mansion's burly visage turned pale at finding himself stormed down with a noise and clatter which almost burst the tympanum of his ears. If _he_ had scolded _she_ had raved more loudly, if _he_ had thundered _she_ rang out her high shrill treble with as much force and strength as a dinner-bell. Fairly beaten and vanquished, he shrunk from the ground; she, undismayed, "keeping the natural ruby of her cheeks, while his were pale from fear."