There is no doubt that a widow can, if she choose, attract a man where
a girl is powerless to do so. She has a charm which is irresistible
when she pleases to exercise it. This power lies greatly in her
knowledge of man-nature. It lies also in her taking a man just as he
is. Instead of wounding his vanity by trying to make him conform to her
ideas, she makes him pleased with himself as he is. Girls have sharp
corners which hurt a man if he runs against them; widows never have.
Girls are unkind; widows never are. Girls like to tease and ridicule a
man; a widow is too wise to do so. Girls will wound even a man who is
not sensitive; a widow soothes. Girls never remember a man’s feelings;
a widow never forgets them.
She has studied one man thoroughly. She knows his peculiarities, his
weaknesses, his strong points, his likes and dislikes. In knowing one
man well, she knows his sex. She has learned well what will please
one man. In learning that she knows what will please all men. She has
learned to sink her own individuality. She has learned to follow,
and has no desire to lead. She knows that men like to be obeyed. She
knows they like their ease. She knows they would rather be amused,
entertained, than to dance attendance. She knows that the best way to
entertain a man is to make him talk of himself or his hobby. She never
minds how much he rides this hobby when he is with her. A girl would
forbid its entrance. A widow may even get up and ride with him. When
a girl would show a man she has no interest in his affairs, a widow
would make him believe she was even more interested than he was. A girl
would say, “I get so sick of hearing that man talk on that subject that
I won’t listen to him.” The widow draws him out. Where a girl would cut
him short, she encourages him to go on at length. He begins to connect
her with his hobby. He learns to come eagerly to her with every new
development, sure of sympathy. When he is downcast about it, he comes
to her as quickly for the encouragement he is sure to get. He begins to
feel that there is no one in the world who understands and appreciates
him as she does. The rest soon follows.
A widow is sympathetic--she is sincere in that sympathy. She has
suffered and feels for all who suffer. She can understand a heartache,
because she knows what it is to have her dearest earthly hopes
shattered. Her life is a disappointment, and she can weep with those
who have been disappointed. She has found out that life is not a bed of
roses only, but has many thorns. She will help soothe the wounds that
thorns have made in other hearts. She knows that men have troubles,
little or great; and she knows too much to give him any more. She has
stood by one man as he has fought with the world, and knows that it is
woman’s province to strengthen him by her sympathy and helpful word for
the battle. She knows that when a man seeks a woman’s society he wants
peace. She knows his vanity is wounded every day in his contact with
men, and that when he comes to her he wants it flattered.
So a widow tries to make a man happy and comfortable. She rarely
alludes to her own grief. It is more interesting because she does not.
She mutely appeals for sympathy, while she gives that same sympathy.
Few young girls know anything about sorrow; they cannot understand
what it is. They are generally so full of themselves they cannot
sympathize. Herein lies their weakness, and herein lies a widow’s
strength. Sympathy is a woman’s greatest power. Girls are self-centred;
a widow never is. A girl is absorbed in her own pleasure; a widow has
learned to make the pleasures of another hers. A girl puts herself
forward prominently; a widow sinks her personality. She has learned to
do so. She knows the man with whom she is talking is more interested in
himself than he is in her. She knows that no man cares as much for her
interests, plans, hopes, as he does for his own; and she talks of his
only. She lets him take the lead in the conversation, she follows.
A young girl has moods; a widow has none. She is always the same. A
man is sure of her. He knows when he leaves her, she will be the same
when he meets her again. I have known girls to lose an admirer by a
cool greeting or change of demeanor. A widow never would. It is said
that Madame Recamier’s great charm was her gracious sweetness, which
was under all circumstances the same.
A girl fancies that a man thinks of her all the time, as she does of
him. She likely thinks of him all day and dreams of him by night. A
man, out in the world, is engrossed in business--that is his first
consideration. It is only his leisure he can give to her. He goes to
her for his pleasure. A widow knows this. She has other things to
occupy her mind, and comes as fresh to him as he does to her. She knows
that he has not lived over and over her last remarks, and she has not
dwelt upon his. She makes no mistakes in estimating his affection for
her.
She never puts his affection to a test. Girls love to do so. A widow
knows that it will have to be a pretty strong one that will stand it.
She never makes any experiments. She knows him in and out. She knows
what will please him and what will not please him. She knows what
flatters his vanity and what will drive him away. Her lessons have been
too thorough to allow any mistake.
Experience has taught her that the best way to win a man is to make him
think more of himself. Experience has taught her that she can have her
own way easily by proper management. A girl fights openly for her own
way. She is unsuccessful as her plans are open.
A widow knows that the royal road to a man’s heart lies through his
stomach. Her little dinners and tempting lunches are a part of her
mode of warfare. A man will always go where he can get a good dinner.
He does not wait for a second invitation, and hardly a first. A man is
always pleased with himself (unless he is a bad case of dyspepsia) when
he has a good dinner. When he is pleased with himself, he is pleased
with those about him.
When a man knows that an evening call means a pretty little lunch, he
is quite sure to come again. He goes first for the sake of his stomach,
and later for the sake of his heart.
A widow never forgets that the better friends she and the man become,
the more likely he is to love her. With a man and woman there is but a
short step from friendship to love. It has been said that there is no
such thing as Platonic friendships between the two sexes. A widow knows
that friendship ripens more quickly over the well-laden table than
under any other circumstances. A girl trusts to romantic surroundings.
A widow never does. She has found out that her hero was fleshly, and
she knows that all men are. She knows that only a boy, wildly in love,
prefers moonlight to a substantial meal.
If a girl takes a meal with a man it is always at his expense. A widow
never allows a man to spend much, if any, money upon her. She knows
just how little he cares about doing so. She has heard the opinion
of one man strongly expressed on that subject. She will not put one
stumbling-block in a man’s way.
A widow knows how to dress. She knows just the kind of dresses a
man likes. She rarely is given to display. She chooses quiet tones
or continues to wear black. Costly apparel she is well aware will
frighten away a man of limited means. She studies herself, and how to
dress, so as to make the best of both. Her art is so perfect that it is
hidden.
A widow is in no haste to wed. Many do not wish to do so at any time.
She does not have to marry for a home: she either has inherited one or
is able to support herself. She has no fear before her eyes of being
an old maid. Years do not lessen her chances, as they do a girl’s. She
does not pretend to be young. Youth is not her attraction. In these
respects she is as independent as a man. It is not matrimony alone she
cares for, if she marries, but a congenial companion. If she does not
meet the right one this year, she may the next. She can afford to wait.
A widow is conscious of her power. That gives her a good command of
herself. She knows, from one man at least, if not from more, the full
value of her charms. She knows her power to retain one man’s love even
until the end. She knows how to make a man happy. She has done so.
She knows that what once won love will do so again. She knows a man’s
weak points: she knows his strong ones. She knows her own weak points:
she may have been told of them very plainly. These she takes pains to
strengthen.
Old bachelors are proverbially hard to win. When one does marry it
is almost always a widow. She only seems to know how to attract him.
She knows what a hard fight it will be, and sets deliberately about
doing it. She knows he is selfish. Only a selfish man tries to avoid
family ties and troubles. Your warm-hearted, unselfish men always
marry. A widow is not shocked at his selfishness. She has not looked
for perfection. She helps him be selfish. She makes him look upon her
as one who will encourage his pet foibles. She shows him that she will
help him with them; instead of having to give up for her “my dog and my
cat,” she will pet “my dog and my cat.”
Yet a widow has a great drawback. There are some men at whom she can
never get a chance. A man who does not wish to marry avoids a widow. He
will pay attention to a young girl perfectly sure he can withstand her
charms; but the young widow is a different person. He knows that if he
allows himself to begin there, he cannot break off. Dickens gave the
key-note to the whole situation when he said, “Samivel, beware of the
widders.” For ages Samivels who do not wish to marry have obeyed that
injunction.