miration toward your Perseus, subdued a little possibly for public
use, but none the less markedly appreciative, will not only endear you
more to him than any protestation of your love could do, but will have
an excellent effect on him mentally and morally. Just as you always feel
dazzling when in company of people who admire you and always talk
brilliantly when with those who think you clever, similarly Perseus will
be spurred on by your admiration (real or assumed) to try to justify it.

The same thing applies to you, gallant Perseus. A compliment to your
Persephone's bright eyes, a word of awed adulation for her new hat, or
of praise for her conduct as a hostess will not only make her absurdly
happy but will materially increase your capital in Love's Bank, by
laying up treasure for you in Persephone's heart.

By way of illustration, I will quote two real conversations I heard not
long ago. The first was between a young couple, Pelleas and Nicolette,
who had recently started housekeeping on a small income. They had been
giving an afternoon party, and all the guests had left but me. (I am a
privileged person, as you must have noticed; nobody minds being natural
before me.)

Nicolette heaved a sigh of relief as the front door shut for the last
time, and turned with sparkling eyes to Pelleas.

'_Hasn't_ it been a success?' she said enthusiastically.

'Not bad,' said Pelleas.

'Aren't the flowers lovely, and haven't I made the rooms look sweet?
Don't you think it was all done very nicely, dear? I did work so hard!'
she added, longing for a word of praise.

'Pooh! d'you call cutting up a few cakes work?' was the answer.

Nicolette happens to be a discreet woman who knows when to be silent,
but she looked sad, and all her natural pleasure in her little
entertainment was spoiled. How delighted she would have been if Pelleas
had kissed her, and told her she had made a charming hostess, and all
her arrangements had been perfection. The annoying part of it is that
this is what he really _did_ think. He was bursting with pride of his
home and his wife, and inclined to think himself a very fine fellow for
having won such a charming and clever woman. Only it wasn't his way to
say so!

The second instance was when I had been trying to reconcile Geraint and
his wife. I was always very fond of dear old Geraint, and the utter
misery of his married life was a source of great trouble to me. On this
occasion we talked freely, a