"Drop the word _good_ from your description, and the picked-up dinner will be altogether another affair," said I. "No, don't come home to-day, if you please; for every thing promises to be most uncomfortable. Get yourself a good dinner at an eating house, and leave me to go through the day as well as I can." "And you are really in earnest?" said my husband, seriously. "I certainly am," was my reply. "Entirely in earnest. So, just oblige me by not coming home to dinner." Mr. Smith promised; and there was so much off of my mind. I could not let him come home without seeing that he had a good dinner. But, almost any thing would do for me and the children. In some things, I am compelled to say that my husband is a little uncertain. His memory is not always to be depended on. Deeply absorbed in business, as he was at that time, he frequently let things of minor importance pass from his thoughts altogether. So it happened on the present occasion. He forgot that it was washing day, and that he had promised to dine down town. Punctually at half-past one he left his place of business, as usual, and took his way homeward. As he walked along, he met an old friend who lived in a neighboring town, and who was on a visit to our city. "Why, Mr. Jones! How glad I am to see you! When did you arrive?" And my husband grasped the hand of his friend eagerly. "Came in last evening," replied Mr. Jones. "How well you look, Smith! How is your family?" "Well--very well. When do you leave?" "By this afternoon's line." "So soon? You make no stay at all?" "I came on business, and must go back again with as little delay as possible." "Then you must go and dine with me, Jones. I won't take no for an answer. Want to have a long talk with you about old times." "Thank you, Mr. Smith," replied Jones. "But, as I don't happen to know your good lady, I hardly feel free to accept your invitation." "Don't hesitate for that. She'll be delighted to see you. Always glad to meet any of my old friends. So come along. I've a dozen things to say to you." "I'm really afraid of intruding on your wife," said Mr. Jones, still holding back from the invitation. "Nonsense!" answered my husband. "My friends are hers. She will be delighted to see you. I've talked of you to her a hundred times." At this Mr. Jones yielded. "I can't promise you any thing extra," said Mr. Smith, as they walked along. "Nothing more than a good, plain family dinner, and a warm welcome." "All I could ask or desire," returned Mr. Jones. It was a few minutes to two o'clock. The bell had rung for dinner; and I was just rising to go to the dining room, when I heard the street door open, and the sound of my husband's voice in the passage. There was a man in company with him, for I distinctly heard the tread of a pair of feet. What could this mean? I remained seated, listening with attention.