sh anything."

THIRD PERIOD.--_Catastrophe_.--This magnificent affair which was to
yield five hundred per cent, in which the most cautious, the best
informed persons took part--peers, deputies, bankers--all of them
Knights of the Legion of Honor--this venture has been obliged to
liquidate! The most sanguine expect to get ten per cent of their
capital back. You are discouraged.

Caroline has often said to you, "Adolphe, what is the matter? Adolphe,
there is something wrong."

Finally, you acquaint Caroline with the fatal result: she begins by
consoling you.

"One hundred thousand francs lost! We shall have to practice the
strictest economy," you imprudently add.

The jesuitism of woman bursts out at this word "economy." It sets fire
to the magazine.

"Ah! that's what comes of speculating! How is it that _you, ordinarily
so prudent_, could go and risk a hundred thousand francs! _You know I
was against it from the beginning!_ BUT YOU WOULD NOT LISTEN TO ME!"

Upon this, the discussion grows bitter.

You are good for nothing--you have no business capacity; women alone
take clear views of things. You have risked your children's bread,
though she tried to dissuade you from it.--You cannot say it was for
her. Thank God, she has nothing to reproach herself with. A hundred
times a month she alludes to your disaster: "If my husband had not
thrown away his money in such and such a scheme, I could have had this
and that." "The next time you want to go into an affair, perhaps
you'll consult me!" Adolphe is accused and convicted of having
foolishly lost one hundred thousand francs, without an object in view,
like a dolt, and without having consulted his wife. Caroline advises
her friends not to marry. She complains of the incapacity of men who
squander the fortunes of their wives. Caroline is vindictive, she
makes herself generally disagreeable. Pity Adolphe! Lament, ye
husbands! O bachelors, rejoice and be exceeding glad!

MEMORIES AND REGRETS.

After several years of wedded life, your love has become so placid,
that Caroline sometimes tries, in the evening, to wake you up by
various little coquettish phrases. There is about you a certain
calmness and tranquillity which always exasperates a lawful wife.
Women see in it a sort of insolence: they look upon the indifference
of happiness as the fatuity of confidence, for of course they never
imagine their inestimable equalities can be regarded