little thing!--a ripe husband, ready to fall from the tree, fit to be put
away in the apple-loft! What happiness! a good husband, who the day
after his marriage will piously place his wife in a niche and light a
taper in front of her; then take his hat and go off to spend elsewhere a
scrap of youth left by chance at the bottom of his pocket.

Ah! my good little sisters who are so very much shocked and cry "Shame!"
follow our reasoning a little further. It is all very well that you
should be treated like saints, but do not let it be forgotten that you
are women, and, listen to me, do not forget it yourselves.

A husband, majestic and slightly bald, is a good thing; a young husband
who loves you and eats off the same plate is better. If he rumples your
dress a little, and imprints a kiss, in passing, on the back of your
neck, let him. When, on coming home from a ball, he tears out the pins,
tangles the strings, and laughs like a madman, trying to see whether you
are ticklish, let him. Do not cry "Murder!" if his moustache pricks
you, but think that it is all because at heart he loves you well. He
worships your virtues; is it surprising hence that he should cherish
their outward coverings? No doubt you have a noble soul; but your body
is not therefore to be despised; and when one loves fervently, one loves
everything at the same time. Do not be alarmed if in the evening, when
the fire is burning brightly and you are chatting gayly beside it, he
should take off one of your shoes and stockings, put your foot on his
lap, and in a moment of forgetfulness carry irreverence so far as to kiss
it; if he likes to pass your large tortoise-shell comb through your hair,
if he selects your perfumes, arranges your plaits, and suddenly exclaims,
striking his forehead: "Sit down there, darling; I have an idea how to
arrange a new coiffure."