“I know that perfectly,” Lucy answered. “But it would be preposterous for me, under my present circumstances, to pay more for service for two than I have ever paid for service for three. There will be so much less to do. We shall never have two sitting-rooms going at once as we often had when Charlie had evening work; nor late dinner, as we were obliged to have for him coming from his office; nor an occasional hot supper as we had when he could not get home in time for dinner. It will be a very easy place.”
“Used Pollie to do your washing?” asked Florence meditatively.
“Yes,” said Lucy. “She had a weekly small wash. Charlie always wore flannel shirts, so there were only collars and cuffs to starch. Then once a month we had a heavier wash, and a woman came to help. There is a nice little laundry at the back, so that the steam does not go through the house.”
“Servants don’t like doing washing nowadays,” observed Florence.
“Should I come across a nice girl who would agree to take lower wages if I put out most of the things, I would agree to the plan,” Lucy answered. “I will agree to any arrangement which will not cost me more money, for that I absolutely cannot afford.”
“‘Generals’ are so scarce nowadays,” said Mrs. Brand. “A good ‘general’ in a house is as hard to get as a good General in the field. That’s how the saying goes. To get cooks and housemaids is possible. It’s easier still if parlourmaid and nurse are kept. The more the merrier, I suppose.”
“But a general servant is what I want,” returned Lucy, rather stiffly. “Not necessarily a ‘thorough’ one—except in character. Apart from that, I will accept mere cleanliness and willingness.”
She could scarcely keep from adding that Florence’s own experience of a crowd of servants had not seemed so satisfactory as to tempt her into the same lines, even if that were possible. Yet Mrs. Brand’s remarks made her sister uneasy. She began to realise that she would have to place far more confidence in the stranger that should come within her gates than she had ever reposed in the long-familiar Pollie. She had trained Pollie. She had always supervised her. She had given considerable help. Much of this would be impossible now she herself was to be the bread-winner of the household.
She began to realise, too, that for the first time she confronted the difficulties of modern housekeeping. Hitherto, everything had been idyllic. Of course, Pollie had made mistakes sometimes, especially at first, but she had been always willing to learn, honest as sunlight, and clean with rural cleanliness. When Lucy had heard the perpetual grumble and bewailing of the mistresses among her acquaintance, she had, in her secret heart, been inclined to think there was a great deal in the adage “Good mistresses make good servants,” which was often openly and severely enunciated by dignified old dames supported by retainers of twenty or thirty years’ standing. Also she had recognised the defects of her sister Florence’s household management, at once so exacting and so careless. She had owned to herself that if she were a servant, she would not wish to remain in the Brand establishment.
Now she felt, however, that she was driven out upon slippery places, where Florence, however unsuccessful in keeping her feet, yet had some experience where she herself had none. Yet Lucy might have been wiser to have tried her experiments after her own fashion. But a woman happily married and then suddenly deprived of her husband’s counsel and decision, is only too ready to lean upon any reed which offers itself to her hand, especially when her mind is distracted by duties which seem to her of paramount importance.