“I don’t know that at all,” said Helen. “Mother sometimes said it was wise to yield. Oh, Polly, I don’t feel at all wise enough for all that is laid on me. We have to be examples in everything. I do want to help father, but it would be worse to promise to help him and then to fail.”
“I’m not the least afraid,” said Polly. “The strangers must come, and father’s purse must be filled in that jolly manner. I don’t believe the story about his eyes, Nell, but it will do him good to feel that he has got a couple of steady girls like us to see to him. Now I’m arranging a list of puddings for next week, so you had better not talk any more. We’ll speak to father about Paul and Virginia after dinner.”
CHAPTER IX.
LIMITS.
Even the wisest men know very little of household management, and never did an excellent and well-intentioned individual put, to use a well-known phrase, his foot more completely into it than Dr. Maybright when he allowed Polly to learn experience by taking the reins of household management for a week.
Except in matters that related to his own profession, Dr. Maybright was apt to be slightly absent-minded; here he was always keenly alive. When visiting a patient not a symptom escaped him, not a flicker of timid eyelids passed unnoticed, not a passing shade of color on the invalid’s countenance but called for his acute observation. In household matters, however, he was apt to overlook trifles, and very often completely to forget what seemed to his family important arrangements. He was the kind of man who was sure to be very much beloved at home, for he was neither fretful nor fussy, but took large views of all things. Such people are appreciated, and if his children thought him the best of all men, his servants also spoke of him as the most perfect of masters.
“You might put anything before him,” Mrs. Power would aver. “Bless his ’art, he wouldn’t see, nor he wouldn’t scold. Ef it were rinsings of the tea-pot he would drink it instead of soup; and I say, and always will say, that ef a cook don’t jelly the soup for the like of a gentleman like the doctor what have no mean ways and no fusses, she ain’t fit to call herself a cook.”
So just because they loved him, Dr. Maybright’s servants kept his table fairly well, and his house tolerably clean, and the domestic machinery went on wheels, not exactly oiled, but with no serious clog to their progress.