It is not entirely without reason that womankind in general blames “the other woman” for defection of any kind.  Short-sighted woman thinks it a mighty tribute to her own charm to secure the passing interest of another’s rightful property.  It does not seem to occur to her that someone else will lure him away from her with even more ease.  Each successive luring makes defection simpler for a man.  Practice tends towards perfection in most things; perhaps it is the single exception, love, which proves the rule.

Three delusions among women are widespread and painful.  Marriage is currently supposed to reform a man, a rejected lover is heartbroken for life, and, if “the other woman” were only out of the way, he would come back.  Love sometimes reforms a man, but marriage does not.  The rejected lover suffers for a brief period,—­feminine philosophers variously estimate it, but a week is a generous average,—­and he who will not come in spite of “the other woman” is not worth having at all.

[Sidenote:  “Not Things, but Men”]

Emerson says:  “The things which are really for thee gravitate to thee.” 
One is tempted to add the World’s Congress motto—­“Not things, but men.”

There is no virtue in women which men cultivate so assiduously as forgiveness.  They make one think that it is very pretty and charming to forgive.  It is not hygienic, however, for the woman who forgives easily has a great deal of it to do.  When pardon is to be had for the asking, there are frequent causes for its giving.  This, of course, applies to the interesting period before marriage.

[Sidenote:  Post-Nuptial Sins]

Post-nuptial sins are atoned for with gifts; not more than once in a whole marriage with the simple, manly words, “Forgive me, dear, I was wrong.”  It injures a man’s conceit vitally to admit he has made a mistake.  This is gracious and knightly in the lover, but a married man, the head of a family, must be careful to maintain his position.

Cases of reformation by marriage are few and far between, and men more often die of wounded conceit than broken hearts.  “Men have died and worms have eaten them, but not for love,” save on the stage and in the stories women cry over.

[Sidenote:  “The Other Woman”]

“The other woman” is the chief bugbear of life.  On desert islands and in a very few delightful books, her baneful presence is not.  The girl a man loves with all his heart can see a long line of ghostly ancestors, and requires no opera-glass to discern through the mists of the future a procession of possible posterity.  It is for this reason that men’s ears are tried with the eternal, unchanging:  “Am I the only woman you ever loved?” and “Will you always love me?”

The woman who finally acquires legal possession of a man is haunted by the shadowy predecessors.  If he is unwary enough to let her know another girl has refused him, she develops a violent hatred for this inoffensive maiden.  Is it because the cruel creature has given pain to her lord?  His gods are not her gods—­if he has adored another woman.