A PARISIAN WIFE'S REVENGE.

Daily Southern Cross, Volume XXXII, Issue 5708, 8 January 1876, Page 3

A PARISIAN WIFE'S REVENGE.

Arsene Houssaye in one of his gossiping Paris letters to the New York Tribune, tells the following story : — We have in Paris a great lady, a foreigner, who goes in. society with an unblushing front, and who, nevertheless, has committed that inhuman crime — a woman who has set her husband on fire. There is an extenuating circumstance. The husband did not love his wife. Why did he marry her, then ? In America a man sees a pretty girl, with no money, and marries her, saying that beauty is the same as specie ; and he is right. In Europe he sees an ugly woman draped in bank-notes, and marries her, saying there is no happiness without money ; and he is wrong. This is what Count d'H did : He took Mademoiselle Armande 0 — because of the million she incuuibei ed. But he had reckoned without his hobt. Mile. O was a character. She was not to be trifled with. She at once took high ground with her husband. ' ' Monsieur, " she said to him in the full honeymoon, which in this case was la lune roussc, " I kuowyou ha\ e a liaison which controls you, but I will let you know you arc not to control me. If you behave as a gentleman I will pardon you tor the sums that connection has already cost you and me. But if I find you only married me for my million I will be l'evenged." The husband accepted all her revenges with philosophic calmness, and continued to waste her substance. SVhen dignity has fled from a house its inmates are no longer man and woman — they 'are merely criminals and maniacs. In this unhappy marriage they came — shall I say it ? — even to blows. Violence took the place of insult. The husband talked of separation of persons and goods. "Ah, yes," said the lady, "I understand. You wish a separation of persons, having made away with the goods." " Yes," said the iusband coldly. " That does not suit me," said the wife. "You have killed my heart, my reason, my honour, and now I shall have your life." Count d'H tried to laugh at her. "But, Madame, why should you wish my death when I ask nothing better than to leave you ?" " Because that is my only possible revenge." "Nonsense, my dear. Cowards and women revenge themselves, and you are neither. It must be that you want to marry again." " Why not, sir ? I have been very little married with you." This charming conjugal conversation ended with the usual climax of endearment a la Saganarelle. The wife had the bitterer tongue, the husband the heaviest fist. The lady retired, beaten but not satisfied, and resolved to be rid of her husband. But how to go about it? She was not strong enough to use the poniard, and she revolted at the cowardice of poison. This is what took place : One evening she found him in bed reading a letter in a woman's handwriting. In a sudden rage she set his curtains on fire, and ran away, locking the door on the outside. He screamed Fire ! but the servants were too far to hear him. It was horrible. He ran frantically about the room. The chamber was upholstered in Louis XV. cretonne, which instantly took fire from the bed. M. d'H at last got to a window, and as he was about to throw himself out his wife took pity and opened the door, asking what was the matter, with a, look of innocent surprise. The husband'^ life was saved, but his disfigurement was complete.