ived by the representations of this ecclesiastic, I was led----"

Then, having signed and sealed his letter, he turned to his colleague
and exclaimed:

"See here; my dear friend, let this be a warning to you never to
recommend any one again."

THE DOOR

"Bah!" exclaimed Karl Massouligny, "the question of complaisant husbands
is a difficult one. I have seen many kinds, and yet I am unable to give
an opinion about any of them. I have often tried to determine whether
they are blind, weak or clairvoyant. I believe that there are some which
belong to each of these categories.

"Let us quickly pass over the blind ones. They cannot rightly be called
complaisant, since they do not know, but they are good creatures who
cannot see farther than their nose. It is a curious and interesting
thing to notice the ease with which men and women can, be deceived. We
are taken in by the slightest trick of those who surround us, by our
children, our friends, our servants, our tradespeople. Humanity is
credulous, and in order to discover deceit in others, we do not display
one-tenth the shrewdness which we use when we, in turn, wish to deceive
some one else.

"Clairvoyant husbands may be divided into three classes: Those who have
some interest, pecuniary, ambitious or otherwise, in their wife's
having love affairs. These ask only to safeguard appearances as much as
possible, and they are satisfied.

"Next come those who get angry. What a beautiful novel one could write
about them!

"Finally the weak ones! Those who are afraid of scandal.

"There are also those who are powerless, or, rather, tired, who flee
from the duties of matrimony through fear of ataxia or apoplexy, who are
satisfied to see a friend run these risks.

"But I once met a husband of a rare species, who guarded against the
common accident in a strange and witty manner.

"In Paris I had made the acquaintance of an elegant, fashionable couple.
The woman, nervous, tall, slender, courted, was supposed to have had
many love adventures. She pleased me with her wit, and I believe that I
pleased her also. I courted her, a trial courting to which she
answered with evident provocations. Soon we got to tender glances, hand
pressures, all the little gallantries which precede the final attack.

"Nevertheless, I hesitated. I consider that, as a rule, the majority of
society intrigues, however short they may be, are not worth the trouble
which they give us and the diffic