do it, but they
should feel the power to do it _if need be_; if you are not master of
yourself, there is bad blood about you somewhere; _noblesse oblige_
applies preeminently to such things.

And I think _noblesse oblige_ ought to teach us another lesson in this
matter of work. So many often say, or feel, "It's not my duty to do this
or that; why should I? it's just as much _her_ business,--why shouldn't
_she_ do the dirty work?" The true lady says, "_Somebody_ must do the
dirty work, and why not I as well as another?" And so she worketh
willingly with her hands; for "common household service" is

"The wageless work of Paradise."

"_She bringeth her food from afar_." She is foreseeing and businesslike:
she is not obliged to get inferior articles because she is driven at the
last moment and cannot send to the best shop; she is never unable to match
her dress because she has not thought about new gloves till the very
afternoon that she wants them; she does not forget till half-past six that
dinner has not been ordered, and then, in despair, order in ready-cooked
things from a shop.

"_She riseth while it is yet night_." Early rising is a great trial to
some, but I think those who are conscientious often make a mistake between
sloth and conscientious care of health: and the Virtuous Woman should be
very careful of her health. Some girls think it fine not to be; they say,
"Oh, well, I shall only die the sooner! Better to wear out than rust out!"
and they feel--and so do some of their friends--that they are very noble
characters, and accordingly these tragedy queens stalk picturesquely
through wet grass when they could quite well keep on the gravel. I hope
none of you will develop into tragic heroines. I have no patience when I
see girls with perfectly prosperous lives inventing tragedies for
themselves. They have no right "to take in vain the sacred name of grief."
If there is nothing else to romance about, they fall back on being
"misunderstood," which generally means that their mother understands them
a great deal too well to please them. I dare say you will not see this in
yourselves or in your friends, but it will strike you very much in your
acquaintances, and you will, in time, recognize your own share of human
nature, for we all do, undoubtedly, enjoy being sorry for ourselves,
though I suspect life is much happier for all of us than we deserve.

But to return to the question of health. If you could go out li