e, the formalities of ceremony, are beauteous
enough in out-door life; but when a man comes home, he wants leave to
take off his tight boots and gloves, wear the gown and slippers, and
speak his mind freely without troubling his head where it hits.
Home-life should be the communion of people who have learned to
understand each other, who allow each other a generous latitude and
freedom. One wants one place where he may feel at liberty to be tired or
dull or disagreeable without ruining his character. Home is the place
where we should expect to live somewhat on the credit which a full
knowledge of each other's goodness and worth inspires; and it is not
necessary for intimate friends to go every day through those civilities
and attentions which they practise with strangers, any more than it is
necessary, among literary people, to repeat the alphabet over every day
before one begins to read."

"Yes," said Jennie, "when a young gentleman is paying his addresses, he
helps a young lady out of a carriage so tenderly, and holds back her
dress so adroitly, that not a particle of mud gets on it from the
wheels; but when the mutual understanding is complete, and the affection
perfect, and she is his wife, he sits still and holds the horse and lets
her climb out alone. To be sure, when pretty Miss Titmouse is visiting
them, he still shows himself gallant, flies from the carriage, and holds
back _her_ dress: that's because he doesn't love her nor she him, and
they are _not_ on the ground of mutual affection. When a gentleman is
only engaged, or a friend, if you hem him a cravat or mend his gloves,
he thanks you in the blandest manner; but when you are once sure of his
affection, he only says, 'Very well; now I wish you would look over my
shirts, and mend that rip in my coat,--and be sure don't forget it, as
you did yesterday.' For all which reasons," said Miss Jennie, with a
toss of her pretty head, "I mean to put off marrying as long as
possible, because I think it far more agreeable to have gentlemen
friends with whom I stand on the ground of ceremony and politeness than
to be restricted to one who is living on the credit of his affection. I
don't want a man who gapes in my face, reads a newspaper all
breakfast-time while I want somebody to talk to, smokes cigars all the
evening, or reads to himself when I would like him to be entertaining,
and considers his affection for me as his right and title to make
himself generally disagre