When she had confessed her difficulty the question arose as to her husband.  She was no longer dissatisfied, no longer eager for romance; but could she live with him if she had been unfaithful?  Ought she not to tell him; and yet she feared to do this, feared the result to him, for she felt sure he would forgive her.  In reality the conflict in her mind arose first from self-depreciation and second from indecision as to confession.

As to the self-accusation, I told her that though she had been very foolish she had punished herself severely enough; that her reaction was that of an essentially moral person; that an essentially immoral woman would have continued in her career, and at least would not have been so remorseful.  As to confessing, I told her that I believed that if she came to peace without such a confession wisdom would dictate not to make it, and that perhaps a little romanticism was still present in the quixotic idea of confession.  Discretion is sometimes the better part of veracity, and I felt sure that she would not find it difficult to forget her pain.

It may be questioned whether such advice was ethical.  I am sure no two professors of ethics could agree on the matter, and where they would disagree I chose the policy of expediency.  Moreover, I felt certain that Mrs. R.’s remorse did not need the purge of confession to her husband, that she was not of that deeply fixed nature which requires heroic measures.  Her confession to me was sufficient, and since it was apparent that she would not repeat her folly it was not necessary to go to extremes.

The last two cases make pertinent some further remarks on sex.  It has previously been stated that the sex field is the one in which arise many of the difficulties which breed the psychoneuroses.  It would not be the place here to give details of cases, though every neurologist of experience is well aware of the neuroses that arise in marriage, among both men and women.  Some day society will reach the plane where matters relating to the great function by which the world is perpetuated can be discussed with the freedom allowed to the discussion of the details of nutrition.

No one seriously doubts that women are breaking away from traditional ideas in these matters.  There was a time (the Victorian Age) in the United States and England when prudery ruled supreme in the manners and dress of women.  That this has largely disappeared is a good thing, but whether there is a tendency to another extreme is a matter where division of opinion will occur.  A transition from long skirts to dress that will permit complete freedom of movement and resembling in a feminine way the garments of men would be unqualifiedly good.  It would remove undue emphasis of sex and accentuate the essential human-ness of woman.  But a transition from long skirts to short tight ones, impeding movement, is the transition from prudery to pruriency and is by no means a clear gain.  Plenty of scope for art and beauty might be found in a costume of which pantalettes of some kind are the basis.  I doubt if women will ever be regarded quite as human beings so long as they paint, wear fantastic coiffures, hobble along on foolish heels, and are clad in over tight short skirts.