“Does Marta learn?”
“Indeed she does—slowly; but remember, she is so newly arrived.”
“Oh, it is not her accomplishments I disparage, but that you cannot trust her to carry out such a simple order as to take a thing out of water at a certain time. What made you give the order if you did not expect to have it remembered?”
“Moral effect, I suppose,” laughed Molly. “I always pretend to leave things to Marta, but as a matter of fact, it was the very simplicity of this thing that made me careful; Marta is impressed, I find, with large appearances; if I tell her to do something that is to have some very choice result, although I expect her to blunder, she generally surprises me by carrying out the order well, because she is impressed, and all her attention on the alert. She can do three or four things now she is proud of; one is frying, because she has completely mastered the art, and the results are so showy; then she has lived in Germany as scullion, where she has heard fine cooking spoken of with respect, and knows it is worth doing well. The difficulty lies generally in the fact that half our servants don’t know that there is such a thing as standard cooking; anything beyond their ken is ‘new-fangled,’ and is a mystery not worth knowing.”
“Well, well, I admire your patience; I never could emulate it.”
“Oh, yes, you would, if it were only necessary; but with you it is not; you have several servants, and can import your cooks specially trained.”
“Molly, I could do without servants easily; I would, rather than watch and follow as you do Marta.”
“We’ll talk over this another time. I’m sure you would not, for long, like to do without a pair of willing, if clumsy hands; a dirty servant, I grant, you are better without,—but I must go down.”
“And I too. What shall I do?”
“Make mayonnaise for the sandwiches.