Family -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Motherless families -- Juvenile fiction; Siblings -- Juvenile fiction
"Yes, father, yes," said Polly. Her lips were trembling, her eyes were
brimful, she clasped and unclasped her hands with painful tension.
Dr. Maybright bent forward and kissed her on her forehead.
"Your mother once said to me," he continued, in a lighter tone, "Polly
is the most peculiar and difficult to manage of all my children. She has
a vein of obstinacy in her which no persuasion will overcome. It can
only be reached by the lessons which experience teaches. If possible,
and where it is not absolutely wrong, I always give Polly her own way.
She is a truthful child, and when her eyes are opened she seldom asks to
repeat the experiment."
"Mother was thinking of the hive of honey," said Polly, gravely. "When I
worried her dreadfully she let me go and take some honey away. I thought
I could manage the bees just as cleverly as Hungerford does, but I got
nervous just at the end, and I was stung in four places. I never told
any one about the stings, only mother found out."
"You did not fetch any more honey from that hive, eh, Polly?" asked the
Doctor.
"No, father. And then there was another time--and oh, yes, many other
times. But I did not know mother was just trying to teach me, when she
seemed so kind and sympathizing, and used to say in that voice of
hers--you remember mother's cheerful voice, father?--'Well, Polly, it
is a difficult thing, but do your best.'"
"All right, child," said the Doctor, "I perceive that your mother's plan
was a wise one. Tell me quickly what ideas you have with regard to
keeping this establishment together, for it is almost time for me to run
away to Mrs. Judson. I allow eight pounds a week for all household
expenses, servants' wages, coal, light, food, medicine. I shall not
allow you to begin with so much responsibility, but for a week you may
provide our table."
"And see after the servants, please, father?" interrupted Polly, in an
eager voice.
"Well, I suppose so, just for one week, that is, after Helen has had her
turn. Your mother always managed, with the help of the vegetables and
fruit from the garden, to bring the mere table expenses into four pounds
a week; but _she_ was a most excellent manager."
"Oh, father, I can easily do it too. Why it's a lot of money! four
pounds--eighty shillings! I shouldn't be a bit surprised if I did it
for less."
"Remember, Polly, I allow no stinting; we must have a plentiful table.
No stinting, and no running in debt. Those are the absolute conditions,
otherwise I do not trust you with a penny."
"I'll keep them, father--never fear! Oh, how delighted I am! I know
you'll be pleased; I know what you'll say by-and-by. I'm certain I won't
fail, certain. I always loved cooking and housekeeping. Fancy making
pie-crust myself, and cakes, and custards! Mrs. Power is rather cross,
but she'll have to let me make what things I choose when I'm
housekeeper, won't she, father?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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