the club or soundly asleep at home. It is not nice to go around alone,
and it is pathetic to go in pairs, with no man. We will go with our
daughters and their young friends, for they have cavaliers enough and to
spare. Let us get out and see the world, lest we die of ennui and
neglect!" It is the chaperone who really goes with the young man. She
takes the girl along to escape gossip.

[Sidenote: Behold his House!]

It is strange, when it is woman's avowed object to make man happy, that
she insists upon doing it in her own way, rather than in his. He likes
the rich, warm colours; the deep reds and dark greens. Behold his house!

Renaissance curtains obscure the landscape with delicate tracery, and he
realises what it might mean to wear a veil. Soft tones of rose and Nile
green appear in his drawing-room. Chippendale chairs, upon which he
fears to sit, invite the jaded soul to whatever repose it can get. See
the sofa cushions, which he has learned by bitter experience never to
touch! Does he rouse a quiescent Nemesis by laying his weary head upon
that elaborate embroidery? Not unless his memory is poor.

[Sidenote: Home Comforts]

Take careful note of the bric-à-brac upon his library table. See the few
square inches of blotting paper on a cylinder which he can roll over his
letter--the three stamps stuck together more closely than brothers,
generously set aside for his use. Does he find comfort here? Not very
much of it.

See the dainty dinner which is set before the hungry man. A cup of