Rhoda’s hand went up to an imaginary cap in a gesture of military
obedience. ‘Very well, my general. I fly to prepare weapons with which
to fight Satan. You, of course, will take _her_; oh, my dear, I’m almost
afraid you oughtn’t! I choose the bullet-headed blonde twin who says his
name is “Lanty,” and reserve for Edith the bursting-with-fat brunette
twin who calls herself “Ciffy.” Edith’s disciplinary powers have been
too much vaunted of late; we shall see if Ciffy ruffles her splendid
serenity.’
III
A FAMILY POLYGON
MRS. GRUBB’S family circle was really not a circle at all; it was rather
a polygon—a curious assemblage of distinct personages.
There was no unity in it, no membership one of another. It was four
ones, not one four. If some gatherer of statistics had visited the
household, he might have described it thus:—
Mrs. S. Cora Grubb, widow, aged forty years.
‘Alisa Bennett, feeble-minded, aged ten or twelve years.
‘Atlantic and Pacific Simonson, twins, aged four years.’
The man of statistics might seek in vain for some principle of attraction
or cohesion between these independent elements; but no one who knew Mrs.
Grubb would have been astonished at the sort of family that had gathered
itself about her. Queer as it undoubtedly was at this period, it had, at
various times, been infinitely queerer. There was a certain memorable
month, shortly after her husband’s decease, when Mrs. Grubb allowed
herself to be considered as a compensated hostess, though the terms
‘landlady’ and ‘boarder’ were never uttered in her hearing. She hired a
Chinese cook, who slept at home; cleared out, for the use of Lisa and the
twins, a small storeroom in which she commonly kept Eldorado face-powder;
and herself occupied a sofa in the apartment of a friend of humanity in
the next street. These arrangements enabled her to admit an experimenter
on hypnotism, a mental healer who had been much abused by the orthodox
members of her cult, and was evolving a method of her own, an ostensible
delegate to an Occidental Conference of Religions, and a lady agent for a
flexible celluloid undershirt. For a few days Mrs. Grubb found the
society of these persons very stimulating and agreeable; but before long
the hypnotist proved to be an unscrupulous gentleman, who hypnotised the
mental healer so that she could not heal, and the Chinese cook so that he
could not cook. When, therefore, the delegate departed suddenly in
company with the celluloid-underwear lady, explaining by a hurried postal
card that they would ‘remit’ from Chicago, she evicted the other two
boarders, and retired again to private life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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