That poor Hephaestus! The net was an ingenious device, and a pretty
piece of workmanship, but--it didn't answer.
In despite of Mrs. Ellis, there are women whose mission it is _not_ to
be good housewives; they can't be useful if they would, any more than
May-flies can spin silk. Like them, they can attract fish (and sometimes
get snapped up if they go too close), that's all. If you marry them, you
must accept them as they are, and take your chance. Be generous, then,
and don't stop their waltzing. I believe there may be flirting without
the most distant idea of criminality--fencing with wooden foils, where
no blood is drawn.
A lady was asked the other day "what she did when an admirer became too
lover-like." Her answer was, "I never had such a case." I think she
spoke the truth; yet she was a coquette renowned through a good part of
two hemispheres.
As for the doubts and fears of the other sex, the subject is too vast
for me. To the end of time there will be Deianiras (with imaginary
Ioles), Zaras, and Mrs. Caudles. Tragedy and comedy have tried in vain
to frighten or to laugh them out of the indulgence of the fatal passion,
that wreaks itself indiscriminately on the beat and the worst, the
youngest and the oldest, the simplest and the most guileful of adult
males.
Pages:
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324