We discovered, after a time, that we couldn’t live on love alone; that bread must be earned, and tempers kneaded, and small economies practiced, if two foolish young things were to keep house with any peace; and so we learned to make the trials into lessons, and the lessons into habits, and the habits into a very decent happiness.
Marriage meets groceries, and grows up. The irony is affectionate, not bitter. Parallelism turns hardship into curriculum and then into habit. In plot, this is the seasoning of a young home. The longer pull honors the humble arts that keep love warm. Readers see romance ripen into rhythm. Ordinary skill becomes joy.