“I saw a neat, pretty house this morning, in a very pleasant neighborhood, the rent of which is only a hundred and eighty-five dollars. There is a snug little parlor below, beautifully papered, and having in it a pure white marble mantle; and quite a large chamber over that, and another of the same size in the third story. Back of these is a kitchen, dining-room, and good-sized chamber, with bath-house and dressing-room. Take it all in all, it is exactly what we want--perfectly new, neat, genteel, and comfortable; and very cheap. Won’t you go with me and look at it after dinner?” “I’m afraid it’s too small, Eunice,” remarked her father. “We shall not be able to breathe in it.” “Oh, no! it is not too small. The chambers are large and airy. And as to breathing, it will be done as freely again there, for the pressure upon our bosoms will be removed.” “Are there no garrets to the house?” “None.” “Then where will a servant sleep?” “There’ll be no difficulty about that--none in the world.” “But where, Eunice?” “There’s the room over the dining-room.” “Which will shut us off from the bath. It won’t do, my child.” “Will you go with me to look at it?” “Oh, yes. But I am sure it will not answer.” “And I am sure it will; and you will agree with me after you have seen it.” Mr. Townsend went to look at the house, and thought it really quite neat, genteel, and comfortable. But his main objection lay in full force against it. There was no place for the servant to sleep, and he urged it as an insuperable objection, to which Eunice at length replied-- “We don’t intend to have any servants; Eveline and I have settled all that.” At this, Mr. Townsend shook his head in a most emphatic way, and said, “That’s out of the question, child; utterly so. I will not hear to it a moment.” “Why not? Don’t you have to attend to business all day, and are we better than you?” “I don’t have to go into the kitchen and cook. I don’t have to go through menial household drudgery.” “Don’t call any useful employment menial, father. Would it at all degrade me to bake you a sweet loaf of bread, or prepare you a comfortable meal when you are hungry? I think not.” “But the hard drudgery of the thing, Eunice. You don’t know what you propose to yourselves to do.” “Love will make the labor light,” replied Eunice, with a tone and smile that found a quick passage to the heart of her father. “Let it be as we desire.”