"Ha! ha! what an idea! You are not serious?"
"As a judge."
"Psha! She does not miss me."
"Perhaps not," he answered gravely--"but for your own sake if not
for hers, it seems to me you should pursue a more domestic course."
"What mean you?"
"Yon leave your wife too much to herself!--nay--let me be frank--not
too much to herself, for there would be little danger in that, but
too much with that fellow Edgerton."
"What? You would not have me jealous, Kingsley?"
"No! Only prudent."
"You dislike Edgerton, Kingsley."
"I do! I frankly confess it. I think he wants manliness of character,
and such a man always lacks sincerity. But I do not speak of him.
I should utter the same opinion with respect to any other man, in
similar circumstances. A wife is a dependent creature--apt to be
weak!--If young, she is susceptible--equally susceptible to the
attentions of another and to the neglect of her husband. I do not
say that such is the case--with your wife. Far from it. I esteem
her very much as a remarkable woman. But women were intended to
be dependents. Most of them are governed by sensibilities rather
than by principles. Impulse leads them and misleads. The wife
finds herself neglected by the very man who, in particular, owes
her duty. She finds herself entertained, served, watched, tended
with sleepless solicitude, by another; one, not wanting either in
personal charms and accomplishments, and having similar tastes and
talents. What should be the result of this? Will she not become
indifferent where she finds indifference--devoted where she
finds devotion? A cunning fellow, like Edgerton, may, under these
circumstances, rob a man of his wife's affections. Mark me, I do
not say that he will do anything positively dishonorable, at least
in the world's acceptation of the term. I do not intimate--I would
not willingly believe--that she would submit to anything of the
sort. I speak of the affections, not of the virtues. There is shame
to the man in his wife's dishonor; but the misfortune of losing
her affections is neither more nor less than the suffering without
the shame. Look to it. I do not wish to prejudice your mind against
Edgerton. Far from it. I have forborne to speak hitherto because
I knew that my own mind was prejudiced against him. Even now I
say nothing against HIM. What I say has reference to your conduct
only.--I do not think Edgerton a bad man. I think him a weak
one. Weak as a woman--governed, like her, by impulse rather than
by principle--easily led away--incapable of resisting where his
affections are concerned--repenting soon, and sinning, in the same
way, as fast as he repents. He is weak, very weak--washy-weak--he
wants stamina, and, wanting that, wants principle!"
"Strange enough, if you should be right! How do you reconcile this
opinion with his refusal to lend you money to game upon? He was
governed in that by principle."