expression to this sentiment by reason of the conviction that the
Countess of -- would not be unduly depressed even were the fact to
reach her ears. I cannot conceive the Countess of --'s being
troubled by the opinion concerning her of any being, human or
divine, other than the Countess of --.

But to be honest, I must admit that for the Earl of -- she makes an
ideal wife. She rules him as she rules all others, relations and
retainers, from the curate to the dowager, but the rod, though
firmly held, is wielded with justice and kindly intent. Nor is it
possible to imagine the Earl of --'s living as contentedly as he
does with any partner of a less dominating turn of mind. He is one
of those weak-headed, strong-limbed, good-natured, childish men,
born to be guided in all matters, from the tying of a neck-cloth to
the choice of a political party, by their women folk. Such men are
in clover when their proprietor happens to be a good and sensible
woman, but are to be pitied when they get into the hands of the
selfish or the foolish. As very young men, they too often fall
victims to bad-tempered chorus girls or to middle-aged matrons of
the class from which Pope judged all womankind. They make capital
husbands when well managed; treated badly, they say little, but set
to work, after the manner of a dissatisfied cat, to find a kinder
mistress, generally succeeding. The Earl of -- adored his wife,
deeming himself the most fortunate of husbands, and better
testimonial than such no wife should hope for. Till the day she
snatched him away from all other competitors, and claimed him for
her own, he had obeyed his mother with a dutifulness bordering on
folly. Were the countess to die to-morrow, he would be unable to
tell you his mind on any single subject until his eldest daughter
and his still unmarried sister, ladies both of strong character,