ward your sex.
There is no culprit toward whom a jury of men are less lenient than one
who has manifested any light sense of his domestic duties. Is not that
true?

_Mrs. M._ I suppose it is. But it ought to be so, of course. It is
impossible for men to be good enough to their wives.

_Beverly._ Just so. But what I claim is, that while every man holds, at
least theoretically, to the very highest ideal of a man's duties in the
marriage relation, very few wives render their husbands' existences so
altogether happy that these obligations become not only the habit but the
joy of their lives.--Don't interrupt me, Jenny.--Not but what the lovely
creatures are willing--nay, anxious--to do so, but just at the point of
accomplishment their little failings of blindness and perversity come in.
They are determined to retain their husbands' complete allegiance, but
their devices and contrivances are mostly dull blunders. Considering what
a frail tie, based on illusion, binds the sexes, my wonder as a bachelor
is that men are, as a rule, as faithful to their wives as they seem to be.

_Philip._ We have been friends, Frank, for fifteen years, and I married
your first cousin, but notwithstanding all that Jenny will insist now that
I give up your acquaintance.

_Mrs. M._ No, Philip, I am not angry with Frank: I only feel sorry for
him.

_Miss A._ So do I. Yet I am curious to know, Jenny, what he means by
saying that wives' devices to keep their husbands' love are mostly dull
blunders.

_Beverly._ I am waiting for a chance to develop my views. I know plenty of
men who are absolutely loyal to their wives--faithful to the smallest
obligation of married life--yet who regard their marriage as the great
folly of their youth. Now, a woman's intuitions ought to be, it seems to
me, so clear and unerring that she should never permit her face and voice
to become unpleasant to her husband. And this effect generally comes from
the absurdity of her attempts to hold him to her side: they have ended by
repelling him. Now, if your sex would only remember that we are horribly
fastidious, and that it is necessary to behave with good taste--

_Mrs. M._ Oh! oh! Monster!

_Miss A._ Barbarian!

_Beverly._ I will give you an instance. In our trip up and down the
Saguenay last summer you both remember the bridal couple on board the
boat?

_Philip._ I remember the bride, a charming creature. The young fellow
could not compare with her in any qualiti