The General considered, her curly head cocked on one side, her brows knitted.
"I wanted to take charge right after mother died—but you were not willing."
"You were too young then, and still in school."
"Aren't you satisfied with Miss Carlton's work?" she asked slyly.
"Her work has nothing to— Yes, of course I am, dear. And she is a good woman, very good. And has been a great help to us the last three years, at a very reasonable salary."
"I have done most of the work myself, but you do not believe it," said Doris.
"Yes, of course you have, dear. And the Problem is quite old now, and between the two of you—between the three of us, I mean—"
"You mean, between me," said Doris frankly. "Your intentions are the best in the world, father darling, but if you ever broke into the kitchen you would very likely wipe dishes on sermon manuscripts—very good manuscripts, perhaps, but you can't practise on the dishes the Endeavor paid forty dollars for. And the Problem! But as you say, between me, I think perhaps I could get along without Miss Carlton nicely. She is rather hard to evade, isn't she, dearest?"
Her father flushed boyishly. "I am sure, Doris—"