I, sinking back on the seat.

Covering my face with both hands, I emitted a deep and deathlike groan,
as if my tormented soul were rending me asunder--I, the most
exquisitely fastidious of men, and whose wife was to have been the most
delicate and refined of women, with all the fresh dew-drops glittering
on her virgin rosebud of a heart!

I thought of the glossy ringlets and pearly teeth; I thought of the
Kalydor; I thought of the coachman's bruised ear and bloody nose; I
thought of the tender love secrets which she had whispered to the judge
and jury and a thousand tittering auditors,--and gave another groan!

"Mr. Bullfrog," said my wife.

As I made no reply, she gently took my hands within her own, removed
them from my face, and fixed her eyes steadfastly on mine.

"Mr. Bullfrog," said she, not unkindly, yet with all the decision of
her strong character, "let me advise you to overcome this foolish
weakness, and prove yourself, to the best of your ability, as good a
husband as I will be a wife. You have discovered, perhaps, some little
imperfections in your bride. Well, what did you expect? Women are not
angels. If they were, they would go to heaven for husbands; or, at
least, be more difficult in their choice on earth."

"But why conceal those imperfections?" interposed I, tremulously.

"Now, my love, are not you a most unreasonable little man?" said Mrs.
Bullfrog, patting me on the cheek. "Ought a woman to disclose her
frailties earlier than the wedding day? Few husbands, I assure you,
make the discovery in such good season, and still fewer complain that
these trifles are concealed too long. Well, what a strange man you are!
Poh! you are joking."

"But the suit for breach of promise!" groaned I.

"Ah, and is that the rub?" exclaimed my wife. "Is it possible that you
view that affair in an objectionable light? Mr. Bullfrog, I never could
have dreamed it! Is it an objection that I have triumphantly defended
myself against slander and vindicated my purity in a court of justice?
Or do you complain because your wife has shown the proper spirit of a
woman, and punished the villain who trifled with her affections?"

"But," persisted I, shrinking into a corner of the coach, however,--for
I did not know precisely how much contradiction the proper spirit of a
woman would endure,--"but, my love, would it not have been more
dignified to treat the villain with the silent contempt he merited?"

"That is all very well