* * *

Women never know quite how to regard a man's jealousy. It flatters her,
yet it pains her. She is the cause of it, yet she would believe it
causeless. She deplores it, yet she would not have it quite away. It is
proof of love, yet it is fatal to love. How to treat it, puzzles her.
Implicit obedience to the man's wishes lowers her in her own eyes, and,
consequently, so she thinks, in his. Yet so rabid is the emotion, she
fears to provoke it too far. It places her in a quandary. She never
knows what will evoke it; she never knows what course it will run:
whether it will cement her lover's affections, or whether it will
dissipate them forever.

It is love's most dangerous foe, and it is dangerous because it is
insidious. If there is any one thing that puts a woman's wits to the
test, it is a man's jealousy.

* * *

The sheerest and most insensate folly a man can commit towards a woman is
to let her know that another woman is cognizant of her jealousy of her.
He may give the latter a very keen pleasure; but he gives the former a
very keen pang. For

The cause of jealousy a woman may condone; the divulgence of her jealousy
she will never forgive.

* * *