At Home with the dines | Page 9

myself. And as to hemming napkins and
table-cloths--I challenge any nun in any convent to make prettier
French hems than I put in! Would I be likely to waste all that labour on
flimsy napkins or cotton sheets and pillow-cases?
Not at all! I can find infinitely more pleasure in putting invisible
stitches into my own first linen than in going to pink teas, and people
don't get permanently angry if you invite them to dinner, and let them
eat off hemmed and embroidered damask. Believe me. You may send

cards to six receptions, and get out of six afternoons of misery and
indigestion by one judiciously arranged dinner--if you don't mix your
people. And thus we did.
So I got my linen. The Angel laughed at another of my theories, but
when I proved to him that I would really see the thing through, he was
convinced. It was on the question of beds. Our friends professed
themselves astonished that we contemplated the extravagance of a
guest-chamber, for here in New York, where rents are so abnormal,
people economize first of all upon their friends, and I am told that an
extra bedroom where a chance guest may be asked to remain overnight
is the exception with people of moderate means. Such monstrous
selfishness struck me as appalling. To provide only for ourselves--for
our own comfort! To have no room in all your own luxury to share with
a friend! To be obliged to tell the woman whose hospitality you have
enjoyed in your girlhood: "Now that I am married, I have prepared no
place for you! Your kindness to me is all forgotten!"
Well, we simply refused. What if it were a strain on us financially? I
would rather suffer that than cripple myself spiritually and suffer from
no pangs of conscience as most New Yorkers do!
However, we managed it, and in this wise. I said:
"Aubrey, if you are willing, we can save a great deal in this way."
Even at this early stage the Angel always grew deeply attentive when I
talked of saving anything.
"We can and must order the finest springs and mattresses for the beds,
for of all the meanness in this world the meanest is to put a bad bed in
the guest-chamber, and that is where most housekeepers are perfectly
willing to economize. But we can and will buy white iron beds with
brass trimmings for almost nothing,--they are all the same size as the
fine brass ones,--so that at any time when we find ourselves vulgarly
rich and able to live up to the dinner-table we shall feel perfectly
justified in discarding them, and there you are!"

"But how will it look?" said the man.
"How will our bank-account look, if we don't?"
"I know. But I thought women were afraid of what other women would
say," said the Angel.
"Now, Aubrey," I said, "If we have economized on ourselves, or rather
included ourselves in a general scheme of economy in order the better
to provide for our guests, I think even New Yorkers would hesitate to
criticize the Jardines' iron beds,--especially if they ever got a chance to
disport themselves on the Jardines' Turkish springs!"
"There's something in that," said the Angel.
CHAPTER III
ON THE SUBJECT OF JANITORS
I used to pride myself on being practical and on possessing no small
degree of that peculiar brand of sense known as "horse." However, like
most women inclined to take a rosy view of their virtues and to pass
lightly over their obvious faults, I know now that I prided myself on the
one thing in my make-up conspicuous by its absence. For I am
luxurious to a degree, and so fond of beauty and grace that I feel with
the man who said, "Give me the luxuries of life and I will do without
the necessities."
This explanation is due to any man, woman, or child who has ever
lived in a New York apartment, and who is moved to follow the
fortunes of the Jardines further. Also this conversation took place
before some of the events already narrated transpired, and while we
were still at the Waldorf.
"Now, Aubrey," I said, "to begin at the beginning, marriage is supposed
to perfect existence all around, isn't it?"
"It does," said Aubrey.

"No, now, I am speaking seriously. It has fed the mental and spiritual
side of us, why not begin life with the determination to make it oil the
wheels of daily existence? Why not bend our energies to avoiding the
pitfalls of the ordinary mortal, and let us lead a perfect life."
"Very well," said the Angel.
"Now in permitting housekeeping to conquer, most people become
slaves to the small ills of life, which I wish to avoid."
"Get to