se things done well must give her own
orders, and discipline her own retinue. The husband may have no "business,"
his wealth may supersede the necessity of all toil beyond daily billiards;
but for the wife wealth means business, and the more complete the social
triumph, the more overwhelming the daily toil.

For instance, I know a fair woman in an Atlantic city who is at the head of
a household including six children and nine servants. The whole domestic
management is placed absolutely in her hands: she engages or dismisses
every person employed, incurs every expense, makes every purchase, and
keeps all the accounts; her husband only ordering the fuel, directing the
affairs of the stable, and drawing checks for the bills. Every hour of her
morning is systematically appropriated to these things. Among other things,
she has to provide for nine meals a day; in dining-room, kitchen, and
nursery, three each. Then she has to plan her social duties, and to drive
out, exquisitely dressed, to make her calls. Then there are constantly
dinner-parties and evening entertainments; she reads a little, and takes
lessons in one or two languages. Meanwhile her husband has for daily
occupation his books, his club, and the above-mentioned light and easy
share in the cares of the household. Many men in his position do not even
keep an account of personal expenditures.

There is nothing exceptional in this lady's case, except that the work may
be better done than usual: the husband could not well contribute more than
his present share without hurting domestic discipline; nor does the wife do
all this from pleasure, but in a manner from necessity. It is the condition
of her social position: to change it, she must withdraw herself from her
social world. A few improvements, such as "family hotels," are doing
something to relieve this class to whom luxury means labor. The great
undercurrent which is sweeping us all toward some form of associated life
is as obvious in this new improvement in housekeeping, as in cooeperative
stores or trades-unions; but it will nevertheless be long before the "women
of society" in America can be anything but a hard-working class.

The question is not whether such a life as I have described is the ideal
life. My point is that it is, at any rate, a life demanding far more of
energy and toil, at least in America, than the men of the same class are
called upon to exhibit. There is growing up a class of men of leisure