These things of course happened since Mrs. Maybright’s death. In her day this gentlest and firmest of mistresses, this most tactful of women, kept all things in their proper place, and her servants obeyed her with both will and cheerfulness.
On the Saturday before Polly’s novitiate poor Dr. Maybright’s troubles began. He had completely forgotten all about his promise to Polly, and was surprised when the little girl skipped into his study after breakfast, with her black frock put on more neatly than usual, her hair well brushed and pushed off her face, and a wonderful brown holland apron enveloping her from her throat to her ankles. The apron had several pockets, and certainly gave Polly a quaint and original appearance.
“Here I am, father,” she said. “I have come for the money, please.”
“The—the what, my dear?”
Dr. Maybright put up his eye-glass, and surveyed the little figure critically.
“Are these pockets for your school-books?” he said. “It is not a bad idea; only don’t lose them, Polly. I don’t like untidy books scattered here and there.”
Polly took the opportunity to dart a quick, anxious glance into her father’s eyes—they were bright, dark, clear. Of course Helen’s horrid story was untrue. Her spirits rose, she gave a little skip, and clasped her hands on the Doctor’s arm.
“These are housekeeping pockets, father,” she said. “Nothing at all to say to books. I’m domestic, not intellectual; my housekeeping begins on Monday, you know, and I’ve come for the eighty shillings now. Can you give it to me in silver, not in gold, for I want to divide it, and pop it into the little box with divisions at once?”
“Bless me,” said the Doctor, “I’d forgotten—I did not know that indigestion week was so near. Well, here you are, Polly, two pounds in gold and two pounds in silver. I can’t manage more than two sovereigns’ worth of silver, I fear. Now my love, as you are strong, be merciful—give us only small doses of poison at each meal. I beseech of you, Polly, be temperate in your zeal.”
“You laugh at me,” said Polly, “Well, never mind. I’m too happy to care. I don’t expect you’ll talk about poisoning when you have eaten my cheesecakes. And father, dear father, you will let Paul and Virginia come? Nell and I meant to speak to you yesterday about them, but you were out all day. With me to housekeep, and Nell to look after everybody, you needn’t have the smallest fear about Paul and Virginia; they can come and they can line your pockets, can’t they?”