Not that it Matters | Page 3

in the balance, and utterly regardless of this the last train starts from
Victoria at 11.15. It must be annoying to have to leave her at such a
crisis; it must be annoying too to have to preface the curtailed pleasures
of the play with a meat tea and a hasty dressing in the afternoon. But,
after all, one cannot judge life from its facilities for playgoing. It would
be absurd to condemn the suburbs because of the 11.15.
There is a road eight miles from London up which I have walked
sometimes on my way to golf. I think it is called Acacia Road; some
pretty name like that. It may rain in Acacia Road, but never when I am
there. The sun shines on Laburnum Lodge with its pink may tree, on
the Cedars with its two clean limes, it casts its shadow on the ivy of
Holly House, and upon the whole road there rests a pleasant afternoon
peace. I cannot walk along Acacia Road without feeling that life could
be very happy in it--when the sun is shining. It must be jolly, for
instance, to live in Laburnum Lodge with its pink may tree. Sometimes
I fancy that a suburban home is the true home after all.
When I pass Laburnum Lodge I think of Him saying good-bye to Her
at the gate, as he takes the air each morning on his way to the station.
What if the train is crowded? He has his newspaper. That will see him

safely to the City. And then how interesting will be everything which
happens to him there, since he has Her to tell it to when he comes home.
The most ordinary street accident becomes exciting if a story has to be
made of it. Happy the man who can say of each little incident, "I must
remember to tell Her when I get home." And it is only in the suburbs
that one "gets home." One does not "get home" to Grosvenor Square;
one is simply "in" or "out."
But the master of Laburnum Lodge may have something better to tell
his wife than the incident of the runaway horse; he may have heard a
new funny story at lunch. The joke may have been all over the City, but
it is unlikely that his wife in the suburbs will have heard it. Put it on the
credit side of marriage that you can treasure up your jokes for some one
else. And perhaps She has something for him too; some backward plant,
it may be, has burst suddenly into flower; at least he will walk more
eagerly up Acacia Road for wondering. So it will be a happy meeting
under the pink may tree of Laburnum Lodge when these two are
restored safely to each other after the excitements of the day. Possibly
they will even do a little gardening together in the still glowing
evening.
If life has anything more to offer than this it will be found at Holly
House, where there are babies. Babies give an added excitement to the
master's homecoming, for almost anything may have happened to them
while he has been away. Dorothy perhaps has cut a new tooth and Anne
may have said something really clever about the baker's man. In the
morning, too, Anne will walk with him to the end of the road; it is
perfectly safe, for in Acacia Road nothing untoward could occur. Even
the dogs are quiet and friendly. I like to think of the master of Holly
House saying good-bye to Anne at the end of the road and knowing
that she will be alive when he comes back in the evening. That ought to
make the day's work go quickly.
But it is the Cedars which gives us the secret of the happiness of the
suburbs. The Cedars you observe is a grander house altogether; there is
a tennis lawn at the back. And there are grown-up sons and daughters at
the Cedars. In such houses in Acacia Road the delightful business of
love-making is in full swing. Marriages are not "arranged" in the
suburbs; they grow naturally out of the pleasant intercourse between
the Cedars, the Elms, and Rose Bank. I see Tom walking over to the

Elms, racket in hand, to play tennis with Miss Muriel. He is hoping for
an invitation to remain to supper, and indeed I think he will get it.
Anyhow he is going to ask Miss Muriel to come across to lunch
to-morrow; his mother has so much to talk to her about. But it will be
Tom who will do most of the talking.
I am sure that the marriages made in Acacia Road are happy. That is
why I have no fears for Holly