HUSBAND A. (aside)—Whew! Is it possible my wife is in love with Dr. M——-? That would be odd. (Aloud.) That is quite possible, my dear, but I would not give a sick dog in charge of a physician who writes. WIFE A. (interrupting her husband)—I know people who have five or six offices, yet the government has the greatest confidence in them; anyway, it is odd that you should speak in this way, you who were one of Dr. M——-’s great cases— HUSBAND A. (aside)—There can be no doubt of it! _The Fallacious._ A HUSBAND. (as he reaches home)—My dear, we are invited by Madame de Fischtaminel to a concert which she is giving next Tuesday. I reckoned on going there, as I wanted to speak with a young cousin of the minister who was among the singers; but he is gone to Frouville to see his aunt. What do you propose doing? HIS WIFE.—These concerts tire me to death!—You have to sit nailed to your chair whole hours without saying a word.—Besides, you know quite well that we dine with my mother on that day, and it is impossible to miss paying her a visit. HER HUSBAND. (carelessly)—Ah! that is true. _(Three days afterwards.)_ THE HUSBAND. (as he goes to bed)—What do you think, my darling? To-morrow I will leave you at your mother’s, for the count has returned from Frouville and will be at Madame de Fischtaminel’s concert. HIS WIFE. (vivaciously)—But why should you go alone? You know how I adore music! _The Touch and Go Mouse-Trap._ THE WIFE.—Why did you go away so early this evening? THE HUSBAND. (mysteriously)—Ah! It is a sad business, and all the more so because I don’t know how I can settle it. THE WIFE.—What is it all about, Adolph? You are a wretch if you do not tell me what you are going to do! THE HUSBAND.—My dear, that ass of a Prosper Magnan is fighting a duel with M. de Fontanges, on account of an Opera singer.—But what is the matter with you? THE WIFE.—Nothing.—It is very warm in this room and I don’t know what ails me, for the whole day I have been suffering from sudden flushing of the face. THE HUSBAND. (aside)—She is in love with M. de Fontanges. (Aloud.) Celestine! (He shouts out still louder.) Celestine! Come quick, madame is ill! You will understand that a clever husband will discover a thousand ways of setting these three kinds of traps. 2. OF CORRESPONDENCE. To write a letter, and to have it posted; to get an answer, to read it and burn it; there we have correspondence stated in the simplest terms. Yet consider what immense resources are given by civilization, by our manners and by our love to the women who wish to conceal these material actions from the scrutiny of a husband. The inexorable box which keeps its mouth open to all comers receives its epistolary provender from all hands.