Ah, no! We all know that the farewells of an affianced pair are apt to be long drawn out. The girl thinks that nothing can be too good for him who is dearest of all. No effort seems too great when it is seasoned by love. If such is the case before marriage, how much more should the practice of all sweet observances and courteous habits, care in little things to avoid giving pain and to minister pleasure, be in constant evidence after marriage! Little things are often the means of drawing people together in the first instance. It is much easier to win affection than to keep it, and, better still, to be conscious that it has grown and strengthened through the long years of married life. And it is only in the sanctuary of their home that husband and wife learn truly to know each other, and to grow into that perfect unity so rarely attained even by those whom we call happy couples. It so often happens that people who are most scrupulous as to their “society manners,” forget to render ordinary courtesy to their own belongings. They seem to think anything is good enough for the home circle. Can there be a greater mistake? Those who are joined to us by the dearest of ties are surely the ones to whom everything we have of the best should be scrupulously rendered. I was charmed a while ago, when I was talking with a mother of grown-up sons about her father. I had known her from her early teens, and we have been great friends always. It was beautiful to see her face light with pleasure as she said, “I was telling him only the other day that I never receive from anyone such perfect courtesy and attention as I do from my own dear father, and now he is eighty years old. But he has always, everywhere, and to every person, been the same.” And I, who had long experienced this, could endorse her words. So, dear ones, keep your very best manners for home, and they will not fail you in other circles. Dear girl wives, be as thoughtful for your husbands as you were for your lovers—and more. Do not let them miss the loving farewell when they go out to their daily battle with the world, whether it be in the field of commerce, the learned professions, art, or behind the counter. In the humbler but no less useful fields of toil, the farm or the mill, the man will be cheered by the memory of loving words and the prospect of your welcoming face and kiss when he comes home weary, toil-worn, perchance downhearted. And knowing how you will meet him, he will quicken his tired feet, that he may the sooner receive the greeting for which his heart longs. If he has good news to bring, the way will seem doubly long because of his eagerness to share it with you. There are times when the best of men are almost too sad and weary to bear sympathy of the demonstrative sort, when everything seems to have gone wrong, and all they want is just to be left in peace for a while.