It has given me a shock to find myself described as "domesticated." I came home to an empty house, after to-day's rehearsal, tired and a bit peevish, perhaps. It is so slow, this novitiate. Harry says that his influence will quickly bring me to the front, that I must have patience, that the theatrical world is so compact, yet so split up into cliques, that, were our relationship suspected, I should encounter hostility instead of the indifference which I now resent. So, in unamiable mood, I began to rate my charlady about the dust which gives its brown tone to London interiors. Thinking that a display of energy might prove a tonic, I cleared out the dining-room and made things shine. My help raised her eyebrows and a duster in astonishment. "Lor', miss," she said, "you are domesticated! You must have had a good mother?" A good mother! She didn't know how that word felt. How odiously some of the men speak, gaze. If a woman is attractive, they ogle her; if she is passée, she is less than nothing. Men did not talk and leer in that way at R. Did they think so? I cannot say. Even Harry laughed when I lost my temper in describing the impudence of a young fop who had bought his way into the chorus. "You must get used to that sort of thing in town!" he said. Then: "Bear with it a little while, sweetheart. Soon the pretense will be ended, and I shall be only too happy if you have lost the glamour of the footlights by that time. It was no wish of mine that you should become an actress." That is quite, quite true. But I wish now--no, I don't. I am silly and miserable. Please, diary, don't be angry if I weep over you, and if I write foolish things. Then, some four months after marriage: Harry away a whole week now. Telegram from Paris: "Cannot leave Mrs. S. for some time yet." He is glad that I have decided to give up the stage without delay. So soon, so soon! I am glad, too, for some reasons, and sorry for others. Is not that life in a few words?... Créature d'un jour qui t'agites une heure, De quoi viens-tu te plaindre et que te fait gémir? Ton âme t'inquiète et tu crois qu'elle pleure: Ton âme est immortelle, et tes pleurs vont tarur.