第2部分(第2/7 頁)

ot　the　remotest　possibility　of　any　one's　calling　upon　me；　and　that　I　should　call　upon　any　one　else　is　a　thing　undreamt　of。　I　owe　a　letter　to　a　friend；　perhaps　I　shall　write　it　before　bedtime；　perhaps　I　shall　leave　it　till　to…morrow　morning。　A　letter　of　friendship　should　never　be　written　save　when　the　spirit　prompts。　I　have　not　yet　looked　at　the　newspaper。　Generally　I　leave　it　till　I　e　back　tired　from　my　walk；　it　amuses　me　then　to　see　what　the　noisy　world　is　doing；　what　new　self…torments　men　have　discovered；　what　new　forms　of　vain　toil；　what　new　occasions　of　peril　and　of　strife。　I　grudge　to　give　the　first　freshness　of　the　morning　mind　to　things　so　sad　and　foolish。

My　house　is　perfect。　Just　large　enough　to　allow　the　grace　of　order　in　domestic　circumstance；　just　that　superfluity　of　intramural　space；　to　lack　which　is　to　be　less　than　at　one's　ease。　The　fabric　is　sound；　the　work　in　wood　and　plaster　tells　of　a　more　leisurely　and　a　more　honest　age　than　ours。　The　stairs　do　not　creak　under　my　step；　I　am　waylaid　by　no　unkindly　draught；　I　can　open　or　close　a　window　without　muscle…ache。　As　to　such　trifles　as　the　tint　and　device　of　wall…paper；　I　confess　my　indifference；　be　the　walls　only　unobtrusive；　and　I　am　satisfied。　The　first　thing　in　one's　home　is　fort；　let　beauty　of　detail　be　added　if　one　has　the　means；　the　patience；　the　eye。

To　me；　this　little　book…room　is　beautiful；　and　chiefly　because　it　is　home。　Through　the　greater　part　of　life　I　was　homeless。　Many　places　have　I　inhabited；　some　which　my　soul　loathed；　and　some　which　pleased　me　well；　but　never　till　now　with　that　sense　of　security　which　makes　a　home。　At　any　moment　I　might　have　been　driven　forth　by　evil　hap；　by　nagging　necessity。　For　all　that　time　did　I　say　within　myself：　Some　day；　perchance；　I　shall　have　a　home；