My house is perfect. By great good fortune I have found a housekeeper no less to my mind, a low-voiced, light-footed woman of discreet age, strong and deft enough to render me all the service I require, and not afraid of loneliness. She rises very early. By my breakfast-time there remains little to be done under the roof save dressing of meals. Very rarely do I hear even a clink of crockery; never the closing of a door or window. Oh, blessed silence! My house is perfect. Just large enough to allow the grace of order in domestic circumstance; just that superfluity of inner 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 attacked by no unkindly draught; I can open or close a window without muscle-ache. As to such trifles as the color and device of wall-paper, I confess my indifference; be the walls only plain, and I am satisfied. The first thing in one's home is comfort; 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 lived, some which my soul disliked, 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 accident, by disturbing necessity. For all that time did I say within myself: Some day, perchance, I shall have a home; yet the "perchance" had more and more of emphasis as life went on, and at the moment when fate was secretly smiling on me, I had all but abandoned hope. I have my home at last. This house is mine on a lease of a score of years. So long I certainly shall not live; but, if I did, even so long should I have the money to pay my rent and buy my food. I am no cosmopolite. Were I to think that I should die away from England, the thought would be dreadful to me. And in England, this is the place of my choice; this is my home.
我的房子很完美。幸运的是，我找到了一位不亚于我心目中的女管家，一个低嗓门、脚步轻盈、年龄谨慎、强壮而灵巧、能给我提供我所需要的一切服务、不怕孤独的女人。她起得很早。在我的早餐时间里，在屋顶上，除了做饭外，几乎没什么可做的。我甚至很少听到陶器的叮当声，从来没有关过门或窗户。哦，祝福的寂静！我的房子很完美。只是大到足以让家庭环境井然有序；只是那种多余的内部空间，缺乏这种空间是不够自在的。织物很结实，木头和灰泥的工作告诉我们比我们更悠闲，更诚实。楼梯在我的脚下不吱吱作响；我没有受到不友好的打击，我可以打开或关上一扇没有肌肉酸痛的窗户。至于像墙纸的颜色和装置这样的琐事，我承认我的冷漠；墙壁只是平原，我很满意。家中的第一件事就是舒适；如果有了方法、耐心、眼睛，就让细节的美增加。对我来说，这个小书房很漂亮，主要是因为它是家。我一生中大部分时间都是无家可归的。我住过很多地方，有些地方我心生厌恶，有些地方我很高兴，但直到现在，我还是没有那种安居乐业的安全感。在任何时候，我都可能被邪恶的事故所驱使，因为扰乱了必要性。我一直在自己心里说：也许有一天，我会有个家；然而，随着生活的继续，“可能”越来越受到重视，而当命运暗暗地对我微笑时，我几乎放弃了希望。我终于有了家。这房子是我的，租期为几年。这么久，我当然不会活了，但是，如果我真的这么做了，我应该有很长的时间来支付我的房租和食物。我不是世界主义者。如果我认为我应该离开英国，那想法对我来说将是可怕的。在英国，这是我选择的地方，这是我的家。
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