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Newspaper Page Text
CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
WHEN DICK IS DEAR HE IS DEAREST
When I got down tovm in time to
take luncheon with Dick I was in a
perfectly terrible state of mind. I
must have been very pale; for Dick
said in a worriedvoIce, "What is the
matter, Margie?1' You look as though
you had lost your hope of eternal
"Do you believe happiness can be
eternal, Dick? It seems to me to be
a rather spasmodic sort of affair.
"You are very happy and then all at
once you are miserable. Then per
haps the clouds will pass and for a
time happiness will shine through
Dick looked at me rather queerly,
but then he always does that when I
go off on one of my tangents into the
philosophy of life. We were walking
along the street toward the place we
were going to lunch when he said
very earnestly: "Margie, whatever
comes to you and me will you always
remember that I always love you and
to me you will always be the only
woman in the world?"
"But what can happen, dear?"
"Well," said Dick, recovering him
self with a laugh, "one of the things
that is going to happen right now is
that I'm going to take the best look
ing woman in town to lunch and aft
erward we are going to buy that elec
tric car she wants."
"Do you really think I am the best
looking woman in town?" I asked,
eagerly, as we seated ourselves at
the restaurant table. I had really
forgotten all about the object of my
visit and anyway the acquisition of
an electric did not seem much be
side the fact that Dick thought I was
the best looking woman in town.
I have often wondered, little book,
what the wife does and how she felt
whose . husband never pays her a
compliment We are all very suscep
tible to flattery and I have not been
married long enough yet not to
watch for the pleased look that
comes into Dick's eyes when he
thinks I am looking particularly nice.
"Beauty is in the eye of the behold
er," I know, and if I were very ugly
I'd want to be married to a man who
was very near-sighted.
Jim Edie said a smart thing on this
subject the other night when we
were talking of a very homely wom
an to whom her husband was devot
ed. "I suppose," he said, "that poor
woman has never realized she is ugly
because her husband loves her."
"Do you suppose, Jim, he tells her
she is beautiful?"
"Well," hesitated Jim, "perhaps
not quite that, but he has probably -told
her she was nearer his ideal than
any other woman, and," he added,
"he probably thinks he is telling the
truth. You can't always tell just
what will please a man most in a
woman that prides herself on her
brain, her culture, her finesse, her
tact, and yet, if ten men were asked
why they like her and nine out of
ten of them do they would unhes
itatingly reply that the fascination
was mostly physical."
I guess, little book, that after all is'
said and done, it is the physical that
attracts men first We women know
this intuitively, even if we will not
own it to ourselves; that is why the
cosmetic companies and the beauty
specialists all get rich.
Of course, I did not think all this
when Dick complimented me. Then
I was just glad so very glad that I
thought if Dick would say those
things to me with that look in his
eyes often, it would not matter if I
walked all my life.
Then all at once I found some
thing cold, clutching my heart. I
thought of that anonymous letter.
Did my husband say the same things
not only to Eleanor Fairlow, but tol
the others that the -writer designate
as the 57 varieties.