It never entered into
Beauty's head that she could lead a life different from her
friends. She was honestly anxious to have a successful portrait of
herself, but the sacrifice of any of her habits was more than she
could make.
Who among my readers (and I am tempted to believe they are all more
sensible than the above young woman) has not, during a summer
passed with agreeable friends, made a thousand pleasant little
plans with them for the ensuing winter, - the books they were to
read at the same time, the "exhibitions" they were to see, the
visits to our wonderful collections in the Metropolitan Museum or
private galleries, cosy little dinners, etc.? And who has not
found, as the winter slips away, that few of these charming plans
have been carried out? He and his friends have unconsciously
fallen back into their ruts of former years, and the pleasant
things projected have been brushed aside by that strongest of
tyrants, habit.
I once asked a very great lady, whose gracious manner was never
disturbed, who floated through the endless complications of her
life with smiling serenity, how she achieved this Olympian calm.
She was good enough to explain. "I make a list of what I want to
do each day. Then, as I find my day passing, or I get behind, or
tired, I throw over every other engagement. I could have done them
all with hurry and fatigue.
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