Alma seemed to waver.
'What I am thinking,' she said in a lower tone, 'is that—before long—we shall need—I suppose—someone of a rather different kind—an ordinary nurse-girl. But you wouldn't like Hughie to be with anyone of that sort?'
'It wouldn't matter now.'
'Here's the philosophy of the matter in a nut-shell,' said Harvey afterwards. 'Living nowadays means keeping up appearances, and you must do it just as carefully before your own servants as before your friends. The alternatives are, one general servant, with frank confession of poverty, or a numerous household and everything comme il faut. There's no middle way, with peace. I think your determination to take care of Hughie yourself was admirable; but it won't work. These two women think you do it because you can't afford a nurse, and at once they despise us. It's the nature of the beasts—it's the tone of the time. Nothing will keep them and their like in subordination but a jingling of the purse. One must say to them all day long, "I am your superior; I can buy you by the dozen, if need be; I never need soil my finger with any sort of work, and you know it." Ruth was a good creature, but I seriously doubt whether she would have been quite so good if she hadn't seen us keeping our horse and our gardener and our groom down yonder—everything handsome about us. For the sake of quietness we must exalt ourselves.'
'You're quite right about Ruth,' replied Alma, laughing. 'Several times she has let me see how she admired my life of idleness; but it's just that I don't want to go back to.'
'No need. Ruth was practically a housekeeper. You can manage your own house, but you must have a servant for everything. Get a nurse, by all means.'
Alma drew a breath of contentment.
'You are not dissatisfied with me, Harvey?'
'Of course not.'
'But tell me—how does Mrs. Morton manage? Why isn't she despised by her servants when she's always so busy?'