o the gold-brick delusion. A woman
marries in the hope of having a lover and discovers, too late, that she
merely has a boarder who is most difficult to please.

[Sidenote: A Certain Pitiful Change]

There is a certain pitiful change which comes with marriage. The sound
of her voice would thrill him to his finger-tips, the touch of her hand
make his throat ache, and the light in her eyes set the blood to singing
in his veins. With possession, ecstasy changes to content, and the
loving woman, dreaming that she may again find what she has so strangely
lost, tries to waken the old feeling by pathetic little ways which women
read at once, but men never know anything about.

In a way, woman is to blame, but not so much. Her superior insight
should give her a better understanding of courtship. A man may mean what
he says--at the time he says it--but men and seasons change.

[Sidenote: Value and Proportion]

The happiness of the after-years depends largely upon her sense of value
and proportion. No woman of artistic judgment would crowd her rooms
with bric-a-brac, even though comfort were not lacking. Pictures hung
together so closely that the frames touch lose beauty. Space has
distinct value, and solid colours, judiciously used, create a harmony
impossible to obtain by the continuous use of figured fabrics.

Yet many a woman whose house is a model of taste, whose rooms are
spacious and restful, insists upon crowding her marriage with the
bric-a-brac of violent affection. She is not content with undecorated
spaces; with interludes of friendship and the appreciation which is
felt, rather than spoken. She demands the constant assurances, the
unfailing devotion of the lover, and thus loses her atmosphere--and her
content.

It seems to be a settled thing that men shall do the courting before
marriage and women afterward. Nobody writes articles on "How to Make a
Wife Happy," and the innumerable cook books, like an army of
grasshoppers, consume and devastate the land.

If women did not demand so much, men in general would be more
thoughtful. If it were understood that even after marriage man was
still to be the lover, the one who sent roses to his sweetheart would
sometimes bring them to his wife. The pretty courtesies would not so
often be forgotten.

[Sidenote: The Tender Thought]

If the tender thought were in some way shown, and the loving word which
leaps to the lips were never forced back, but always spoken, marri