would have you observe that we are reasoning upon a
hypothesis, without which this book will be unintelligible to you;
namely, we suppose that your honeymoon has lasted for a respectable
time and that the lady that you married was not a widow, but a maid;
on the opposite supposition, it is at least in accordance with French
manners to think that your wife married you merely for the purpose of
becoming inconsistent.

From the moment when the struggle between virtue and inconsistency
begins in your home, the whole question rests upon the constant and
involuntary comparison which your wife is instituting between you and
her lover.

And here you may find still another mode of defence, entirely
personal, seldom employed by husbands, but the men of superiority will
not fear to attempt it. It is to belittle the lover without letting
your wife suspect your intention. You ought to be able to bring it
about so that she will say to herself some evening while she is
putting her hair in curl-papers, "My husband is superior to him."

In order to succeed, and you ought to be able to succeed, since you
have the immense advantage over the lover in knowing the character of
your wife, and how she is most easily wounded, you should, with all
the tact of a diplomat, lead this lover to do silly things and cause
him to annoy her, without his being aware of it.

In the first place, this lover, as usual, will seek your friendship,
or you will have friends in common; then, either through the
instrumentality of these friends or by insinuations adroitly but
treacherously made, you will lead him astray on essential points; and,
with a little cleverness, you will succeed in finding your wife ready
to deny herself to her lover when he calls, without either she or he
being able to tell the reason. Thus you will have created in the bosom
of your home a comedy in five acts, in which you play, to your profit,
the brilliant role of Figaro or Almaviva; and for some months you will
amuse yourself so much the more, because your _amour-propre_, your
vanity, your all, were at stake.

I had the good fortune in my youth to win the confidence of an old
_emigre_ who gave me those rudiments of education which are generally
obtained by young people from women. This friend, whose memory will
always be dear to me, taught me by his example to put into practice
those diplomatic stratagems which require tact as well as grace.

The Comte de Noce had returned from C