in novels—­read well, but they are not advisable in real life.  Women like to upset well-laid plans by perverse and counter movements.  A man must always let a woman do a reasonable share of the courting.  I know so many men who have been courted outright by their wives—­of course in a gentle, womanly way.  It is often done.  I have sometimes been so much interested in a man that I have fancied myself at last in love.  But it is always a fleet-footed fancy.  Interest and Love are not always the same—­Robert Fairfield once interested me, but I never loved him.

I lead an ideal, independent life.  I have no uncongenial family ties.  My wishes, yea, even my whims, find instant gratification, if gratification is possible.  I am just delicate enough to gain the tenderest consideration from all who know me.  My little social sins gain the readiest forgiveness—­from those who love me—­and, in the eyes of some, grow into positive virtues.  I maybe outrageously tardy for an engagement, or, without any particular reason, break it altogether, yet be understood and upheld.  Platitudes do not always understand, and sometimes foolishly rebel.  But it is of no use.  I have a little way of making them believe that it was actually they and not I who had committed the offense.  And they plead for me to forgive them!

My modes of life are somewhat peculiar—­at least commonplace persons think them so.  I give little lunches and dinners.  I invite just whomsoever I please.  Now and then, for the sake of good form, and of the good mother, I have regulation affairs, to which I bid the society regulars—­the so-called first and best set, who take invitations as a matter of course, who consider themselves the social salt of the earth, who go every where, and move about the houses of other people as if they owned them.  The Society Regular is a well-dressed, bad-mannered, somewhat disagreeable animal, devoid of innate delicacy, and absolutely without gratitude.  They are Platitudes of the first water.  They do not frequent my house.  They never dine or lunch with me, my Pleasures and other Platitudes.

This regulation affair is generally and afternoon tea.  I leave out my retinue, the Kaleidoscopic Circle, and tell them about it afterward.  My Social Exquisites and my Social Drifters are reformed regulars—­brands snatched from the burning by me.  Briefless Barristers delight me very much.  I have several interesting specimens in the legal line.  It is interesting to have “young men of great promise” around me.  True, their fees are small and few between, yet that enables them to see just that much more of me.  In the old days I used to read law with them; but I have very wisely abandoned that little habit—­it was tiresome.

I have one or two Men Who Have Risen.  They are crude, uncultured creatures, but full of excellent points.  One of them is a widower, who made his large fortune killing hogs, and afterward canning peas, tomatoes, etc.  Of course he talks all the time about how he made his money.  I am always an attentive listener, and I verily believe that I now have a practical knowledge of the hog business and canning interests of the country.