The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course. “When did you start?” She said between puffs. We do not remember to have met with a single individual, reported to be under petticoat government, who was not content with his lot,—nay, who so far from repining, did not exult in his servitude; and we see no way of accounting for this apparently inexplicable conduct—for which, among other phenomena of married life, various reasons have been assigned, though none entirely satisfactory to us—except upon the ground that these domineering dames possess some charm sufficiently strong to counteract the irritating effect of their tempers; some secret and attractive quality of which the world at large is in ignorance, and with which their husbands alone can be supposed to be acquainted. ” She looked at him with curious eyes. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. He glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which he could perceive shooting past him with lightning swiftness in the gloom. .
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