You talk for ten minutes more without the slightest interruption, and then you ejaculate another “Well?”

“Little Julius Deschars came home with chilblains,” she says.

“But Charles has chilblains here.”

“Never,” she replies, proudly.

In a quarter of an hour, the main question is blocked by a side discussion on this point:  “Has Charles had chilblains or not?”

You bandy contradictory allegations; you no longer believe each other; you must appeal to a third party.

Axiom.—­Every household has its Court of Appeals which takes no notice of the merits, but judges matters of form only.

The nurse is sent for.  She comes, and decides in favor of your wife.  It is fully decided that Charles has never had chilblains.

Caroline glances triumphantly at you and utters these monstrous words:  “There, you see Charles can’t possibly go to school!”

You go out breathless with rage.  There is no earthly means of convincing your wife that there is not the slightest reason for your son’s not going to school in the fact that he has never had chilblains.

That evening, after dinner, you hear this atrocious creature finishing a long conversation with a woman with these words:  “He wanted to send Charles to school, but I made him see that he would have to wait.”

Some husbands, at a conjuncture like this, burst out before everybody; their wives take their revenge six weeks later, but the husbands gain this by it, that Charles is sent to school the very day he gets into any mischief.  Other husbands break the crockery, and keep their rage to themselves.  The knowing ones say nothing and bide their time.

A woman’s logic is exhibited in this way upon the slightest occasion, about a promenade or the proper place to put a sofa.  This logic is extremely simple, inasmuch as it consists in never expressing but one idea, that which contains the expression of their will.  Like everything pertaining to female nature, this system may be resolved into two algebraic terms—­Yes:  no.  There are also certain little movements of the head which mean so much that they may take the place of either.

THE JESUITISM OF WOMEN.

The most jesuitical Jesuit of Jesuits is yet a thousand times less jesuitical than the least jesuitical woman,—­so you may judge what Jesuits women are!  They are so jesuitical that the cunningest Jesuit himself could never guess to what extent of jesuitism a woman may go, for there are a thousand ways of being jesuitical, and a woman is such an adroit Jesuit, that she has the knack of being a Jesuit without having a jesuitical look.  You can rarely, though you can sometimes, prove to a Jesuit that he is one:  but try once to demonstrate to a woman that she acts or talks like a Jesuit.  She would be cut to pieces rather than confess herself one.

She, a Jesuit!  The very soul of honor and loyalty!  She a Jesuit!  What do you mean by “Jesuit?” She does not know what a Jesuit is:  what is a Jesuit?  She has never seen or heard of a Jesuit!  It’s you who are a Jesuit!  And she proves with jesuitical demonstration that you are a subtle Jesuit.