Nathan sent an appealing glance at his wife.
“Oh, leave the child alone!” cried Milly wearily, in front of her guests. “You’re always picking on her; she never does anything that suits you.” And so Nathan “left the child alone.” But it was noisily incumbent on me to lift her into her high chair and tie her bib. Thereupon little Mary started to “make music” with the cutlery on the edge of her plate and announce to us of what the forthcoming meal was to consist.
“Start right in, folks,” Milly invited. “I’ve got some things to see to upstairs before I can eat,” and she went above to dress, leaving her husband and guests to await her return or eat without her, also leaving a little girl who suddenly remembered her “manners”, sat with her hands folded school-fashion on the edge of her plate and alleviated the distressing pauses by entertaining us with choice bits of household information, such as: that Ma had on all her best dishes; such as: that the green pitcher came from the five-and-ten; such as: that Ma came near not puttin’ on that pickled preserve because when she opened the jar and smelled it, she thought it had spoiled; such as—oh, bother!
Poor Nathan! He sat with the steaming food before him and then said thickly, “She’ll probably be a considerable time. Perhaps we hadn’t better wait.” But I knew he was wondering why his wife could not have negotiated her wardrobe before our arrival and thrown off a mere apron or something of the sort, to do the honors of her table.
Little Mary cried shrilly above my wife’s attempt at sympathetic conversation with Nathan to inform her father what particular portion of the roast she desired and what vegetables and what drinkables. Finally Nat could stand it no longer. Milly being out of earshot, he frankly apologized for the child. But I read behind his apology the heartache of a tired man who did his best to train his child as opportunity offered and he himself had enlightenment. But a man at business ninety per cent. of the time may easily have much good work discounted by a child’s propinquity with an unbred mother. He ended finally by telling the child that another word from it would earn instant dismissal from the board. That worked admirably until Milly’s appearance when the roast was almost finished. Little Mary then recounted to her mother what her father had instructed her, etc., etc.
I will forbear a detailed account of that dinner. It was an ordeal. The table was crammed with dishes, there was no one to take away emptied plates and nowhere to set them. Nathan had to arise and take them away himself. Twice little Mary scrambled down and followed him into the kitchen, leaving Mary Ann and myself alone and feeling rather foolish.
Mary Ann settled down into an hour of agony. Little Mary pushed her food upon her broad fork with her fingers. She threw back her head and sucked the last drop from her water glass. She arose in her high chair, would have stood upon it and reached for her own butter if Nathan had not stopped her. Milly was in her place by this time and Nathan asked her if she couldn’t “see to little Mary.” Whereat Milly smoothed back the child’s hair, fiddled with a hairpin to twine the hair up from the child’s eyes, patted it and said bless her, she was mother’s little daughter, wasn’t she, and was remembering her manners, wasn’t she, too; and little Mary agreed that she was remembering her manners and demanded to know if mamma had yet “let on” to Uncle Billy that they had ice cream among other items for dessert.
The dessert came at last, about the time when I was wondering if Mary Ann were going to live to partake of it.
“We’ve got some cheese, that horribly smelly kind that Nat likes so well, if anybody wants any of it but him,” was Milly’s final comment anent a most delectable Camembert.
“Yeah!” piped up Mary. “And it comes in a wooden box and when you take the cover off it, you could almost think there was sompin’ dead inside it!”