Here is where French women excel. They are taught from childhood to regard what is convénable, that is, suitable, not whether velvet pleases their eyes better than serge. For years and years every garment I put on was made at home. I did not actually make it. I drew the design and did the trimming, while a dear old body who worked for me for fifteen years did the sewing. We were rather proud of ourselves, she and I, and when I saw a description of one of her “creations” in some paper, I sent it to her, and she chortled with joy. An occasional tailor-made from Bond Street did the rest. Hats! Well, I can honestly say that it was twelve years after my husband’s death that I bought my first ready-made hat. Up to then I trimmed them myself.

This is not boasting. It is no credit to me that le bon Dieu endowed me with a few capabilities which circumstances allowed to be developed.

Few realise the necessity of thrift at home, and yet to women it should be one of the first cares of life. There is often more waste in the homes of the humble than in the mansions of the rich.

Nothing is more important than the subject of thrift. “Look after the pence, the pounds will look after themselves” is an old truism, too often neglected. How do people grow rich? There is only one way, and that is to be thrifty and save. Never spend all your income, be it big or little. The rainy day will come, the loss of money, or loss of health, and its blow is softened immeasurably for those who have been thrifty and have saved their little nest-egg.

Order and economy are absolutely necessary to a thrifty home. It is in the class of establishment where things are done anyhow, and at any time, that the most money is spent, and with the least result.

Thrift, be it understood, does not mean cheapness, far from it. It is adaptability, carefulness over little things, the personal supervision of details that make a thrifty home; and these are the things that are so often neglected, and considered by the careless “not worth troubling about.” They are worth troubling about; everything is worth troubling about, be it great or be it small, be it in the household, in personal dress, in amusements, or the kitchen. All trifles are worth considering, and are considered by the wise.

The only way to do housekeeping really well is to pay ready money for everything. It is satisfactory in two ways. In the first place the housekeeper knows exactly where she stands, what she has, and what she can afford to spend. In the second place, it is very much cheaper—for all articles, which are paid for by cash, are sold at a lower rate than those for which the date of payment is problematical, and the risk of non-payment sometimes great.

Happiness means possessing about double what you think you will spend. Then, and then only, will you have a margin. For instance, imagine a trip abroad will cost fifty pounds. Believe you have put down every possible item for tickets, hotel bills, tips, and all the rest of it; then remember that you have forgotten extra cabs, theatres, exhibitions, little presents, stamps, and all the thousand-and-one things that come under “odds” or “petty cash,” and allow fifty pounds for them; you will then be happy.

Ditto with a house or a dress. With all care work it out at so-and-so, but these “oddses” will always creep in and double the estimate—“oddses” are always more than items.

A twin to Thrift is Tidiness. And here we are not always equal to the standard of our foremothers. “Oh, but life was so much more leisurely then,” it may be replied. “They had heaps more time and less to do; nowadays life is an everlasting rush.”