Such men as these prefer passing their lives in making huge efforts to become second-class chess-players, or to pocket adroitly a ball in billiards.
Some of them will tell you that they are incapable of keeping their minds on such a constant strain and breaking up the habits of their life. In that case the woman triumphs. She recognizes that in mind and energy she is her husband’s superior, although the superiority may be but temporary; and yet there rises in her a feeling of contempt for the head of the house.
If many man fail to be masters in their own house this is not from lack of willingness, but of talent. As for those who are ready to undergo the toils of this terrible duel, it is quite true that they must needs possess great moral force.
And really, as soon as it is necessary to display all the resources of this secret strategy, it is often useless to attempt setting any traps for these satanic creatures. Once women arrive at a point when they willfully deceive, their countenances become as inscrutable as vacancy. Here is an example which came within my own experience.
A very young, very pretty, and very clever coquette of Paris had not yet risen. Seated by her bed was one of her dearest friends. A letter arrived from another, a very impetuous fellow, to whom she had allowed the right of speaking to her like a master. The letter was in pencil and ran as follows:
“I understand that Monsieur C——- is with you at this moment. I am waiting for him to blow his brains out.”
Madame D——- calmly continued the conversation with Monsieur C——-. She asked him to hand her a little writing desk of red leather which stood on the table, and he brought it to her.
“Thanks, my dear,” she said to him; “go on talking, I am listening to you.”
C——- talked away and she replied, all the while writing the following note:
“As soon as you become jealous of C——- you two can blow out each other’s brains at your pleasure. As for you, you may die; but brains—you haven’t any brains to blow out.”