"Help?" said he interrogatively.
"Yes," said I. "What do you pay your cook and chambermaid?"
"Hoh!" said he contemptuously. "I don't keep no help. My Bible tells me that God made the wife to be a help-meet for man, and my wife is all the help I want. I wouldn't have a servant round my house at no price."
"Do you suppose our pastor and his wife can get along the same way?"
I asked.
"Don't see why not," said he sententiously.
"What!" said Mr. Wheaton. "Would you have your pastor's wife do her own work, Mr. Hardcap? I hope we haven't got so poor as that. She must be a lady, Mr. Hardcap; a lady, sir."
"Well," said Mr. Hardcap, "and can't a lady do her own work? High and mighty notions these that a woman must eat the bread of idleness to be a lady."
"Oh! it's all very well, Mr. Hardcap," said Mr. Wheaton; "but our pastor's wife has a position to maintain. She owes a duty to the parish, sir. She can't be maid of all work at home. I should be ashamed of the church to suffer it."
"There certainly is a difference, Mr. Hardcap," said the Deacon.
"Mrs. Hardcap may do her own washing. And if anybody finds her over
the washtub Monday morning no one thinks the worse of her for it.
But it really wouldn't do for our pastor's wife."
Mr. Hardcap shook his head resolutely. "I don't see it," said he. "I don't believe a minister's wife is too good to work."