Now, I think if I had an infectious complaint in the house my first idea would be to keep people out of it. I should place a placard on the door, and then leave folks to do as they chose in the matter. I should keep the rest of the household to the grounds and garden, and I should--- much as I should hate it--stay as much at home as I possibly could. Of course the usual means of disinfection would be largely used; still no one should run the risk of giving the complaint to any other soul. The doctor would be the person to say what is infectious and what is not, but, despite the ‘Lancet,’ I am quite certain measles and mumps cannot be carried and cannot be given to another, unless by the person who actually has the complaint on him. About scarlet fever, small-pox, and diphtheria there can be no doubt, but typhoid cannot be carried from one to the other, although typhus most undoubtedly may be. But in any case the doctor is the person to apply to, and if we have his consent we can go about the world as usual; only we should always tell our friends what is the matter, and if they object to us we must not be offended with them. They are quite right to object, and we should not resent their care for their own. We should not feel happy if we handed on the complaint, and what should we experience if it had a fatal termination? I, for one, cannot imagine. There is absolutely no place on earth which requires so much good breeding to inhabit or arrange for properly as does the sick room; therefore I trust I may be forgiven if I write rather fully on the matter, more especially as this book is coming now to an end, and I shall never write any more on the ever-fascinating subject of the home, and I want to say a word to the patient.