If possible, I should have some pretty framed photographs on the wall, and, above all, a small bookcase, with a cupboard below for medicine and toilet bottles. I cannot bear the look of bottles standing about, and, besides that, medicine bottles are apt to be put down after the medicine is poured out, and sundry drops run down, and a sticky ring is left on the new toilet-cover as a reminder of one’s guest, which is not as nice as one could wish. The medicine cupboard conveys a hint the most obtuse must take, and, as they only cost about 6_s._ 9_d._, are within the reach of almost every one. A few judiciously chosen amusing novels and good poetry can well be spared for the spare room, and often are of considerable service to guests who may not go about provided with their own literature. Reading often will lure back sleep, or pass away an hour profitably; and should we breakfast later or go to bed earlier than our guest is accustomed to at home, he takes a book and forgets he is waiting, and blesses instead of ‘cusses’ the difference in our household routine. It seems to me even now that I have not said half as much on the mere relation of guest to host and hostess as I could have done, though I have hardly yet mentioned the word ‘furniture,’ so a few more hints may be dropped here. Never should any one be allowed to come to stay without the hostess herself seeing that a new nice square of soap is in the newly-washed soap-dish; that the towels are folded right, the water fresh and pure in the ewer, and also in the artistic jug, bought, if she be wise, at Douglas’s, in Piccadilly, in tints to match the ewer; and making sure all is perfectly clean and in order. A small glass of flowers should stand on the toilet-table as a special greeting to one’s friend, and all should suggest that personal thought and care has been given to the special shrine set apart for his or her reception. I wonder who ever forgets their first visit from home, or who can cease to remember the sense of importance given to us, who once were brides, when our first guest arrived to stay with us, and inspect our new home, which we were then perfectly convinced was far prettier, neater, brighter, and more redolent of love and perfection than any place had ever been before, or could possibly be in the future. Ah! thank Heaven for memory! _Tout lasse, tout passe, tout casse_, but memory never dies; and if we in our first start in life have charming surroundings and pleasant homes, even if they only are of the simplest nature, as long as we live they are ours, and none can ever take them away from us.