"I am beginning to realize what it means to a business man to have a good home," she said to her cousin as she drew her pet easy chair up to the open fire in her library,—for although it was May the nights were chilly. "I never appreciated fully what it means to have a comfortable house well-kept;—to draw up after a hard day's work before one's own fire—to let the world go by while I 'take mine ease in mine inn.' I tell you, Jessie, if women all realized what this means, there would be more happy homes and fewer divorces."
"I suppose so," replied her cousin. "Yet there is something to be said on the other side. I get so tired of staying in the house all day, struggling with the problems of housekeeping and the vagaries of servants that I rather sympathize with the women who demand the company of their husbands at night, to the theaters and dinners and whatever social functions come handy."
"Wrong," said Gertrude sententiously. "When a man gets home at night, weary in body and mind with the grind of his business, he wants a good dinner, an easy chair, his newspaper or magazine, his pipe. I can understand how like heaven a woman can make his home—a woman with tact;—or how like the other place it might become with her discontented grumbling or her determination to get him into evening clothes and drag him into the outside world again,—to be harried and worried and kept uncomfortable for several hours more."
"But the wives—what are they going to do?" asked Miss Craig. "Are they never to have any outside pleasures?"
"With all the clubs and bridge-parties and afternoon teas, they have going in the day-time," said Gertrude, "let them be content. But at night, if she values domestic happiness, let the wife not dare deprive her husband of the delights of a good well-kept home," and she snuggled closer into her big chair.
"Goodness, Gertie!" laughed her cousin. "One would think you contemplated a husband. Or are you getting up a speech on Public Life for Women as a Training for Matrimony. But here's Bailey. I suppose you want to talk over City Hall matters—the last thing I want to listen to. So you'll excuse me. But, do you think the ideal domestic menage would allow business after hours? O, Bailey, I suspect she'll be taking up cigarettes next;" and with that she went away to make a call at the nearest neighbor's.
"Sit down, Bailey," said Gertrude, reaching up to greet him. "I'm so comfortable—and lazy, here; I'm sure you won't mind if we just sit by this fire and talk things over. Well—do you know that Mr. Henry,—the accountant,—has been going over the books today?"
"Probably a good thing," was Bailey's comment. "Find anything out of the way?"
"He thinks the salary bills, some of them, larger than they should be. O, there is so much to do! So many ways in which things should be improved!—so many ends to be looked after and gathered up," she cried.
"Not getting tired, Gertie—already?" asked Bailey, in a surprised tone.