OWEN
 
 -
 
 315oob0 bp Catherine 
 
 TEN DOLLARS ENOUGH. Keeping House Well 
 on Ten Dollars a Week. i6mo $1.00 
 
 GENTLE BREADWINNERS. The Story of One of 
 Them. i6mo i.oo 
 
 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. i6mo i.oo 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK.
 
 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY 
 
 BY 
 
 CATHERINE OWEN 
 
 AUTHOR OF " TEN DOLLARS ENOUGH,' 1 AND " GENTLE BREADWINNERS " 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 (Cfee fitoersi&e #reasJ, Cambribge 
 
 1888
 
 Copyright, 1888, 
 By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 Att rights reserved. 
 
 The Riverside Press, Cambridge : 
 Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co.
 
 PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 THE author wishes to state that, in the narra- 
 tive of Mrs. Bishop's bringing up of her chil- 
 dren, she does not write from theory, but from 
 experience, not only her own, but the far wider 
 and less personal experience gained from atten- 
 tive observation of that of others. She depre- 
 cates all wish to dogmatize, or to impose her 
 views on her readers ; she would not even recom- 
 mend their adoption, where they involve ques- 
 tions of diet and health, without the sanction of 
 the family physician, because, although not one 
 child, but several, furnish the data from which 
 her conclusions are drawn, it is nevertheless 
 true, constitutions differ so widely that, although 
 ninety children out of a hundred will thrive un- 
 der certain conditions, the other ten may require 
 entirely different ones. It is the author's firm 
 belief that a healthy well infant will be also a 
 
 2228493
 
 IV PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 contented and good one, if it has fair play ; but 
 while the mother is still helpless, it too often ac- 
 quires habits which make the first three months 
 of its life a torment to the house. The excep- 
 tions to this rule may generally be traced to the 
 ante-natal mental condition of the mother. 
 
 The author does not pretend to do more than 
 offer her experience, and that of some other 
 mothers, to those who may be looking forward to 
 maternity and desire to inform themselves ; the 
 already experienced matron will very naturally 
 either agree or not agree, as her own observa- 
 tion may lead her.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. SOMETHING ABOUT THE BABY .... 1 
 
 II. SPARTAN MOTHERS 12 
 
 III. CHOOSING FURNITURE 19 
 
 IV. WHAT TO Do? 29 
 
 V. MOLLY THINKS BACK 42 
 
 VL MOLLY ENGAGES A NURSE A DOUBTFUL 
 
 TREASURE 51 
 
 VII. WHY FREDDY STEVENS CRIED . . .65 
 VIII. LITTLE JOHN ARRIVES CLOUDS ON MOLLY'S 
 
 HORIZON MOLLY A WIDOW . . .80 
 
 IX. MOLLY'S THIRD BABY WAYS AND MEANS . 103 
 
 X. A LETTER MOLLY HAS A NEW IDEA . .115 
 
 XI. MOLLY TAKES A HOUSE 122 
 
 XII. MOLLY IN HER NEW HOUSE BEGINNING 
 
 BUSINESS 130 
 
 XIII. MOLLY AT WORK BANBURY CAKES 
 
 BOARDERS 142 
 
 XIV. MOLLY GOES TO THE WOMAN'S EXCHANGE . 150 
 XV. WINDSOR PIE A VISIT FROM MRS. FOY . 158 
 
 XVI. INCOMINGS AND OUTGOINGS .... 162 
 XVII. EXPEDIENTS AND DIFFICULTIES . . . 170 
 XVIII. CHEESE CAKES COLD MEAT PIE COLD 
 
 MEAT FRITTERS, AND OTHER RECIPES . 180
 
 vi CONTENTS. 
 
 XIX. PROGRESS -EXCHANGE GOSSIP . . . 203 
 XX. MOLLY'S SUCCESS How WON HER CHIL- 
 DREN'S EDUCATION 208 
 
 XXI. MOLLY'S PLANS FOR MEG DR. MILNE SPEAKS 226 
 
 XXII. MOLLY'S DECISION 234 
 
 XXIII. MRS. WELLES'S PLANS MEG'S DIARY . . 244 
 
 XXIV. KATE'S VOCATION 254 
 
 XXV. "ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL" . . 261
 
 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT THE BABY. 
 
 " MRS. BISHOP, if your child is healthy and 
 you are as wise as I think, you will have little 
 trouble with a crying baby; but remember, a 
 baby's digestion has everything to do with its 
 health, and that, in nine cases out of ten, is 
 ruined in the first month of its life." 
 
 "But how can I guard against it, doctor?" 
 Mrs. Bishop had asked. 
 
 " More depends on the nurse than on you ; but 
 if she is a sensible woman you will be all right, 
 and if she is not, nothing you can do will have 
 any other effect than to worry you, and upset 
 the child." 
 
 " Oh, doctor, let me be sure and have a sen- 
 sible nurse. I had hoped to have one who has 
 been with Mrs. Lennox, but I '11 leave it to you." 
 
 " If you have her, she will suit you. She will 
 not allow the baby to be overfed, nor will she
 
 2 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 destroy its stomach with teas and doses. De- 
 pend upon it, the more a baby is left to nature 
 the better it will be. Nature does n't need half 
 so much assistance as people think." 
 
 And Mrs. Lennox, whose children had 
 charmed her, had said almost the same. 
 
 " I don't believe young babies ever cry from 
 temper. If they cry they are uncomfortable, but 
 it does n't follow that the discomfort comes from 
 hunger, as most people seem to think ; it quite 
 as often comes from an over-full stomach. Yet 
 your nurse will, most likely, tell you it needs 
 feeding, and if its last food has not digested, it 
 is given more to increase its trouble. Only one 
 of my babies was cross. It was the first. I had 
 no experience, my nurse believed in anise-seed 
 and catnip tea, and during the first month, if it 
 cried after nursing, it was declared to have colic, 
 and a spoonful of anise-seed tea or catnip was 
 given. It was walked about, and patted and 
 jumped, and in an hour if it cried again it was 
 hungry, and had to be nursed ; but I think for 
 the first six weeks it never passed an hour with- 
 out crying; then I came to Greenfield, and old 
 Dr. Price came to attend the baby for an attack 
 of some sort of fever, and I asked him if it was 
 a healthy child. He told me it was perfectly so, 
 and I then told him that it was fretful. He 
 asked some questions, and said :
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT THE BABY. 3 
 
 " ' It is only the old story : the baby has n't fair 
 play. Don't you know the stomach of a baby 
 is n't much larger than an egg ? and yet you let 
 it take food every time it cries, and when it is 
 uncomfortably full, you give it sickening teas. 
 Now, if you are sensible, you '11 drop the teas, 
 and feed it only at stated intervals ; every two 
 and a half hours is often enough for a healthy 
 child who can take a hearty meal, and when 
 three months old it will need food only once in 
 three hours. A weak child can take very little 
 food at a time, and requires more frequent feed- 
 ing.' 
 
 " But if it cries for food " 
 
 " ' Oh, it will cry because you have fed it every 
 time it did cry. It does n't want the food, but it 
 likes the warmth and cuddling up ; but had n't 
 you better let it cry till it gets used to the new 
 regimen, than to have it constantly fretting? It 
 will only be for a few days.' 
 
 " I followed his advice, for I had tried the old 
 way and found the baby was unhappy, and I was 
 worn out. I fed it only at stated times, and for 
 the first week I had a terrible struggle; then 
 gradually the change came, baby was content, it 
 slept as well again, and rarely fretted ; if it had a 
 real hard crying spell now, I knew that it meant 
 pain. At such times I undressed and put it in a 
 warm blanket near the fire and rubbed the little
 
 4 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 limbs with my warm hand. Generally the un- 
 dressing was enough, but in case it was not, I 
 put it in a warm bath, still by Dr. Price's orders. 
 * There are little aches and pains of which we 
 can know nothing,' he had said ; ' they may be 
 from the prick of a pin, or they may be colic, 
 and there are other little pains to which babies 
 are subject, for all of which a warm bath is cer- 
 tain relief.'" 
 
 Mrs. Bishop's friends and neighbors were 
 deeply interested in seeing how she would man- 
 age with a baby. There were many predictions 
 that her theories would all go to the winds when 
 the baby arrived, just as Mrs. Somebody else's 
 music had been given up and Mrs. Other one's 
 painting. The peculiarity was, that Mrs. Bishop's 
 hobby, which it was expected would become an 
 unused steed, was so prosaic a matter as one 
 branch of housekeeping cooking ; and at the 
 first glance it would seem odd that the arrival 
 of a baby, one of the household, should be 
 expected to change its mother's views ; other 
 women did not keep house less well after the 
 first baby came. The explanation was this : 
 
 Mrs. Bishop had elected, when she began to 
 keep house, to give her chief attention to the 
 cooking ; all other work she could pay some one 
 to do ; that work she could not get done for 
 any reasonable amount to suit her, and there-
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT THE BABY. 5 
 
 fore, although her husband had only an average 
 clerk's salary, her table had been as dainty as if 
 they had employed a professional cook. 
 
 When I say she gave her attention chiefly to 
 cooking, I must be understood as speaking com- 
 paratively. Whatever pressure there was on 
 her time, it did not occur to her that the dinner 
 could be less well served, although the parlor 
 sweeping might be put off. But although, to 
 Mrs. Bishop, the kitchen was the heart of the 
 house, I do not mean to say that the other part 
 was neglected; it was very well kept by her 
 servant ; I think, perhaps, there were fewer of 
 the charming coquetries women love in their 
 rooms than in some others, and the pretty trifles 
 there were for the house was by no means 
 destitute of pretty things were not such as 
 bore testimony to its mistress's nimble needle, 
 but were rather the flotsam gathered during 
 some years of foreign residence. 
 
 She had sometimes lamented, since her mar- 
 riage, that she had not persevered in doing fancy 
 work when she saw the lovely work of other 
 women, until she reflected that it was less trouble 
 to her to make herself a charming dress than it 
 would be to make a South Kensington tidy, and 
 that she could buy the tidy far better made for 
 less money than the dressmaker's bill would 
 come to ; but she had a thrifty soul and did not 
 buy it, so her rooms were devoid of tidies.
 
 6 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 She was not proud of the deficiency, nor did 
 she despise pretty handiwork ; indeed, she had 
 more than once wished it would occur to her 
 friends that she was fond of it, and that they 
 would make her the offering of their fingers, in- 
 stead of some other things ; but when she began 
 to keep house, or rather before she began to do 
 so, she had thought over the matter of her duties 
 very seriously. Her husband's means had been 
 small, his tastes and her own somewhat luxu- 
 rious, and she had but one pair of hands ; they 
 would keep one maid, but Molly (Mrs. Bishop 
 was always called Molly by her friends) well 
 knew that even a small house cannot be kept in 
 perfect order by one servant without a good deal 
 of assistance from the mistress, unless the table 
 is made a very secondary matter, and she chose 
 to do what another could not do so well. This 
 was the difference between her housekeeping and 
 that of some others. She knew that many house- 
 keepers scrimped the time from the kitchen in 
 order to do what seemed more important work 
 for the house. 
 
 Molly had passed her girlhood in France and 
 England with a very careful and sensible mother, 
 an invalid, and there she had imbibed the habit 
 of thinking the preparation of the meals the 
 most important, at all events the least to be neg- 
 lected, part of housekeeping. Her mother had
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT THE BABY. 1 
 
 always declared that the reason why dyspepsia 
 was hardly ever known in France and Germany 
 was because so much more attention was paid to 
 cooking by the housewives in those countries 
 than in her own. This conviction, right or 
 wrong, had sunk into the girl's mind, as mother's 
 words always do, and when she came back to 
 America she had noticed that if a housekeeper 
 was hurried, it was the table that suffered. This, 
 once in a way, would not have mattered, but the 
 majority were always hurried, and some with 
 whom she had talked had told her frankly, that 
 they always got for dinner whatever was most 
 easily and quickly cooked. When young wives 
 had said this, she had ventured to question the 
 wisdom, but was quickly silenced, but not con- 
 vinced, by one declaring that she did not make a 
 god of her stomach, that her husband preferred 
 her to devote herself to study, so as to be his in- 
 tellectual companion. Another said, " Neither 
 she nor her husband cared for the pleasures of the 
 table, they ate to live, and did not live to eat ; " 
 and others protested their husbands' supreme 
 contentment with old-fashioned simplicity, which 
 meant, she found invariably, the easiest cooked 
 and the longest lasting food. What struck Molly 
 most was the fact that the ladies who had pleaded 
 intellectual reasons were very mediocre young 
 women ; had they possessed a single talent, she
 
 8 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 could have understood the reasoning, for, assur- 
 edly, a gift is too precious a thing to be neglected, 
 but the one or two most gifted women she knew, 
 strange to say, seemed to nurse their intellect 
 very little, and to forget they had a mind if the 
 family comfort made calls on their hands. 
 
 " And the worst of it is," she had written to 
 her friend, Mrs. Welles, " they don't seem to see 
 that it is not only a matter of enjoyment or non- 
 enjoyment of one's food, but that it actually 
 means health ! " 
 
 No, Molly found bad plumbing, ill ventilated 
 rooms, malarious situations, were all discussed 
 and battled with, by the very people who could 
 not perceive that heavy bread, poor butter, tough 
 meat, and ill-cooked vegetables had as much in- 
 fluence on the health as any, or all of these ; for 
 what a man eats is his life, just as much as the 
 air he breathes, so much so that physicians 
 tell us an entire change of diet, say from mixed 
 food to milk or grapes, for three months, will 
 entirely change our blood. 
 
 But then, these good ladies who had souls 
 above kitchen work had not attended the South 
 Kensington Lectures on Food, and Molly had. 
 
 When Molly began housekeeping herself, she 
 resolved that whatever was neglected in her 
 house, it must never be the kitchen work. If 
 necessary, the parlor could be shut up, and the
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT THE BABY. 9 
 
 dining-room do double duty, the spare chamber 
 be given over to dust and moths, but her dinner 
 table must not suffer. Aside from the coarse- 
 ness of eating ill-cooked food, there was the 
 question of health. The one ailment she dreaded 
 for husband or possible children was dyspepsia, 
 the destroyer, not of life, but of all the enjoy- 
 ment of life. No! rather than that spectre 
 should sit at her banquets, she would dress like 
 a Quakeress and work like a beaver. 
 
 The parlor had not been sacrificed, nor did 
 dust and moths invade her spare chambers ; for 
 Molly had found a fairly good servant in a green 
 German girl named Marta, who brought, with 
 utter ignorance, a strong pair of hands and a 
 willing heart, but no mind to speak of ; and dur- 
 ing the few months that Mrs. Bishop kept house 
 before her baby was born, she had faithfully 
 lived up to her resolution. Many of those who 
 had watched her had said, " Wait till the baby 
 comes ; that will make sad havoc with your fancy 
 cooking, my dear. You will be glad then to get 
 a bit of roast beef on the table that will last a 
 couple of days, and order a pie from the bakery 
 like the rest of us." 
 
 Now, although Mistress Molly had smiled, and 
 said no doubt the baby would occupy much of her 
 time, she had also taken another resolution, and 
 that was to learn all she could about babies, and
 
 10 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 whether it might not lie largely with herself if 
 it should take all her time, or not more of it 
 than she could spare. She read, and inquired, 
 and talked to the old physician who gave her 
 the foregoing advice. This was supplemented by 
 Mrs. Lennox's experience. The children of this 
 friend had always been a wonder and admiration 
 to Mrs. Bishop ; they seemed to her to combine 
 all that is most charming in childhood ; they were 
 gay and frolicsome, apparently unrestrained by 
 any fear of offending their parents, yet never 
 causing a visitor to feel that they required re- 
 buke. We all know how irritating other people's 
 children often are, how we feel we really would 
 not allow this or that, the teasing to have their 
 own way when it would be bad for them, the 
 squabbling and unwilling obedience to parental 
 requirements that too often make one feel 
 acutely for the mother's weariness ; but with the 
 Lennox children there was none of this. Little 
 rows among themselves they did have occasion- 
 ally, for they were not angelic, but their mother 
 was never teased, they never caused one to think 
 her weakly indulgent, and yet no more tender 
 mother could be imagined. Mrs. Bishop watched 
 and studied this family, for she could not under- 
 stand at first whether the children were of un- 
 usually fine tempers, or whether Mrs. Lennox, 
 simple - natured and excellent as she was, had
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT THE BABY. 11 
 
 strength of character enough to have brought 
 this about by scarcely felt discipline. She found 
 later that this quiet, gentle lady was as softly 
 persevering as the flower that by its silent pres- 
 sure uplifts the stone in its way. The children 
 yielded to the quiet influence that encompassed 
 them, unconscious of restraint because they had 
 great latitude in unimportant matters ; on all 
 important ones it never occurred to them to dis- 
 pute the mother's rule. But although she had 
 conscientiously taken note of all these things, 
 storing them up to aid her own inexperience, she 
 found after the baby was born that she had to 
 fight for her o^n way with it. Her husband's 
 mother had brought up a large family, and clung 
 to the old ways. The idea of stinting a baby 
 in its food was an enormity, only possible to 
 a "theorist," as she was fond of calling her 
 daughter-in-law. Then when Molly insisted 
 that it should have no soothing teas if it cried, 
 and not be rocked to sleep, Mrs. Bishop senior 
 lost patience, and prophesied terrible things. 
 They did not come to pass, but that, she declared, 
 was owing to the child's wonderful constitution 
 inherited from its father.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "SPARTAN MOTHERS." 
 
 BEFORE the baby was born, Molly had been 
 careful to teach Marta how to prepare certain 
 meals all through without referring to her. She 
 had then written out seven bills of fare, one for 
 each day, comprising breakfast and dinner, with 
 light luncheon for any one who might be there. 
 She did not want the predicted decadence in her 
 table to begin for her husband directly she was 
 out of the way. 
 
 She laughingly told him that he must not dare 
 to have any caprices, for Marta was wound up to 
 cook each dinner just as written. 
 
 "If you suggest an alteration it will upset 
 the whole thing. If you want to have Tuesday's 
 soup on Wednesday, that will bewilder her and 
 the dinner go all wrong." 
 
 " Never mind if it does, Molly. It would n't 
 hurt me to go without a dinner once in a while, 
 or I can get it in town." 
 
 ' ; Oh, I shall not worry about it. I spoke 
 more for Marta's sake than yours. No, don't
 
 "SPARTAN MOTHERS." 13 
 
 get dinner in town, because there will be no 
 occasion for that, and beside it would be bad for 
 Marta and take away her sense of responsibility. 
 She knows she must rely on herself. To assume 
 that she can't do so, before we try her, will be 
 needless." 
 
 " Anything you like, Molly." 
 
 When the time drew near for the nurse to 
 leave, Molly began to bathe the baby herself. 
 She had had a bath made by the carpenter, 
 which stood on two cross legs (about the height 
 of her knees), and a piece of rubber sheeting 
 was nailed over the top with enough " bag " in 
 the middle to hold the water. When not in use 
 it was folded and put away. In this soft, yield- 
 ing bath no unexpected movement of the child 
 could hurt its tender flesh. 
 
 The first bath Molly gave with fear and trem- 
 bling, the flesh seemed so tender, the little bones 
 so soft, and the baby cried. Certainly, it cried 
 lustily. It is true it had always cried with the 
 nurse, so she could not be hurting it. Her arm 
 and hand were under the little head and body 
 to support it while she washed with softest 
 sponge. Nevertheless, she was thankful to lift 
 it on to her flannel-covered knees (she wore a 
 large apron of thick, soft flannel), and wipe it 
 dry with soft, old damask towels. How nervous 
 she was for fear she might not dry every crevice
 
 14 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 and fold, and yet afraid of hurting it by too 
 much drying. "Oh, if it would not cry so! 
 I 've heard of babies enjoying the bath," said 
 Molly, looking flushed and rather tired when the 
 last garment was on, and the little pink bundle 
 in its warm wrapper was reaching out for food. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am ; but most young babies make a 
 rumpus. She '11 enjoy it when she 's a little 
 older ; but a little crying won't hurt her, it 's 
 about all the crying she does in the twenty-four 
 hours." 
 
 This was true, whether due to Molly's training, 
 or, as its grandmother said, to its father's angelic 
 nature and good constitution, I will not pretend 
 to say, but the baby was remarkably good. It 
 slept the better part of the day and all night. 
 This last was so unlike the traditional baby that 
 Harry had asked with a smile, that, however, did 
 not conceal real anxiety, " This baby of yours, 
 Molly, is such an outrageous sleeper! You don't 
 think, do you, that Mrs. Watts doses it slyly ? " 
 
 " Harry," cried Molly, in horror, " I should 
 go wild if I thought so ! Oh, no ; the doctor and 
 Mrs. Lennox vouch for her, and the doctor says 
 it 's exactly what is natural for a baby to do 
 to eat and sleep." 
 
 " There are very few natural babies, then, I 'in 
 afraid." 
 
 But the young father was very proud of having
 
 "SPARTAN MOTHERS. 1 ' 15 
 
 one so unlike the majority, and boasted loudly 
 that he had not once been wakened by it, nor 
 did he mind when some laughed and whispered, 
 " Poppies." 
 
 When Molly had nursed the baby she laid it 
 down to go to sleep. A " Spartan mother," the 
 grandmother had called her, in wrathful ridicule, 
 when first she saw the few hours' old baby laid 
 down in its blanket to sleep. But though her 
 words had been meant to sting, they were true 
 in a way she did not guess. To her, and others, 
 who cling to the rocking and walking of babies 
 to sleep, the reverse method means selfish rest 
 and self-indulgence at baby's expense. They 
 think perhaps they reach the conclusion with- 
 out thinking that the mother refuses to put 
 her baby to sleep in her arms because she pre- 
 fers to do something else. The mother thus gets 
 rid of the baby as much as possible. They do 
 not for a moment realize that it requires Spartan 
 self-denial to choose this part ; that it would be 
 far more sweet to indulge the mother weakness 
 which yearned to have that tender little baby in 
 her arms always ; that no luxury could be greater 
 than to sit by the hour, hushing and cuddling it, 
 and dreaming over it, watching even its finger 
 nails grow. Nor could they guess that every cry 
 which she thinks she could still with love and 
 caresses goes like a knife to the mother heart.
 
 16 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 Molly at least had to use resolute self-control 
 and to remember that her own pleasure was bad 
 for her child, to prevent her herself from giving 
 all her time to it. So far as her own enjoyment 
 went, it would have slept till it woke again in 
 her arms. Not to sleep with it close to her 
 bosom was to give up a great luxury, for it 
 seemed part of herself. She lacked something 
 of herself when it was not near her. Yet, she 
 knew if she indulged her own yearnings she 
 would probably have a fretful, wailing child. 
 Although she smiled at her mother-in-law's 
 railing, she thought, with tears in her eyes, how 
 true it was that Spartan courage indeed was 
 required not to let the tiny new-comer become 
 the one absorbing sweetness of her life. 
 
 " It requires far more love to be firm than to 
 be indulgent," she thought. 
 
 There was another point in her baby's up- 
 bringing that she had heard her mother descant 
 upon, and which she decided for herself, and that 
 was that there should be no unusual silence 
 while baby slept. She had no whispering or 
 tiptoeing round the house. If the nurse or her 
 husband spoke, it was in the natural voice, even 
 in the same room ; but of course all violent or 
 sudden noises were avoided. 
 
 Her mother had often spoken of how she had 
 accustomed Molly herself to sleep through all
 
 "SPARTAN MOTHERS." 17 
 
 the every-day sounds, and how her sister's child 
 was put to sleep in a dark room, the whole 
 household silenced, its father not daring to 
 rattle the pages of a newspaper, and every one 
 forced to creep about for a certain time during 
 the day, with the result that every trivial out- 
 door sound beyond control, an accidental word 
 uttered in the natural key, sufficed to wake it. 
 
 This again was a subject of contention be- 
 tween Molly and her mother-in-law. "You'll 
 ruin that child's nerves, Molly," she said, when 
 Molly explained why she did not whisper her 
 greeting at the door of the room in which it 
 slept. She insisted on whispering herself then 
 and always, if the baby was asleep. 
 
 " I hope not. I 'm afraid you think I am very 
 obstinate, and that I am victimizing our darling 
 to my ignorant theories ; and I know you are 
 almost as fond of her as I am, so I want you to 
 be easy on the subject. I am not alone in these 
 'new-fangled notions.' Doctors who devote 
 their lives to the treatment of children, ladies 
 who have spent the greater part of their time in 
 institutions for them, all testify to the need of 
 regularity and " 
 
 "Molly! do you compare my grandchild to 
 those brought up in institutions ? " cried the 
 lady, deeply offended. "Don't we all pity 
 those poor little souls ! Are you satisfied to give
 
 18 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 your child no more affection than those little 
 heart-starved things ? " 
 
 Tears were actually in her worldly eyes as 
 she spoke, and Molly, while she despaired of 
 convincing her, forgave her prejudice for the 
 sake of those tears. 
 
 " I only wanted to assure you that I am not 
 heedlessly trusting to my own ideas. I have 
 talked to Dr. Price, and you can't suppose I 
 don't love my baby far too well to risk a mis- 
 take," she added, indignantly. 
 
 " You are so set, my dear ; although it is not 
 you alone I blame, but all the new ideas, as if 
 the world had n't gone on and babies been born 
 and lived and thrived for thousands of years, as 
 nature, not books, dictates."
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 CHOOSING FURNITURE. 
 
 I WONDER if there is a much more enjoyable 
 time in a woman's life than when she sees her- 
 self about to enter a house exactly to her taste, 
 and has the money to furnish it ; a limited 
 amount, perhaps, but the pleasure of making it 
 go as far as it will is all the greater. The pleas- 
 ure may be sadly marred by circumstances which 
 to the mind of the practical might seem advan- 
 tageous, if you hftve had the misfortune to have 
 inherited furniture, good, solid, and ugly, which 
 yet your thrifty soul will not let you discard ; or, 
 worse still, have been presented at your wedding 
 with ornaments and pictures that make you 
 shudder, and yet which you will be forced to 
 place prominently for fear of wounding some 
 dear artless giver. Mrs. Bishop had nothing of 
 this kind to interfere with her pleasure, and a 
 few things to enhance it, for she had a loving 
 husband who had " builded better than he knew " 
 when he married her, and was now, after three 
 years, only beginning to find it out, at least so
 
 20 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 he said, and what could add more to a wife's 
 happiness than such saying, after three years ! 
 And now she was going to furnish a charming 
 little house ; not at all a costly one, but built as 
 she would have wished had it been done to her 
 order. It was just large enough, had a well 
 planned kitchen, a spacious piazza, a garden, 
 and was prettily decorated inside. 
 
 She had been contemplating her bliss for 
 nearly three months, and now she was strong 
 again, the baby well, the spring just at hand, 
 and the country just at the least pleasant season. 
 So at the end of March it was decided to spend 
 a month in New York for the delightful purpose 
 of shopping leisurely. Mr. and Mrs. Bishop 
 senior had a very fine house near the park, and 
 were anxious to receive their son and his wife, 
 but more especially the baby. 
 
 " I am sorry if your father will be disap- 
 pointed, Harry ; but it will be much better to 
 board." 
 
 " He will be disappointed, Molly, no doubt 
 about that." 
 
 " Then let us give up the idea, for you know as 
 well as I do that your mother and I differ about 
 baby, and a month of struggle to have my own 
 way, or else a month of changed habits for the 
 child, which will alter its disposition altogether, 
 I cannot stand. It would be lovely to be in New
 
 CHOOSING FURNITURE. 21 
 
 York, to be able to look for the very things we 
 want and not buy till we find them, but other 
 people manage very well by only going in a day 
 at a time ; so will we." 
 
 " Oh, no, that won't do. Molly, you shall do 
 as you like ; the struggle will have to come, and 
 may as well soon as late." 
 
 " Perhaps not. It is quite true that to live 
 in the sixties, when I want to shop down town, 
 with a baby needing me every three hours, will 
 be very inconvenient. Then dear Charlotte, 
 who lives in such a central spot, we have re- 
 fused ; so, if you make the very most of that, 
 perhaps your mother may not feel angry, and 
 once we have made our purchases we can spend 
 a few days with her." 
 
 " Very well ; I '11 see about board to-day, then." 
 
 And so it came about that, although Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bishop's parents had so large a house, the 
 young couple installed themselves in a modest 
 boarding-house near Washington Square, where 
 they had lived the first year of their married life. 
 
 Perhaps some of my readers may think that 
 Mrs. Bishop was rather a remarkable young 
 woman, but I assure you she did not think so 
 herself, which makes the offense if any would 
 find fault ; and she would have shuddered had 
 any one hinted, which no one who knew her (not 
 even her mother-in-law) ever did, that she was
 
 22 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 "strong-minded." If I were asked to charac- 
 terize her I should say, if women like her were 
 more frequently found, that she was the legiti- 
 mate result of a nineteenth-century (the latter 
 half of it) education. Without being specially 
 gifted, she was sagacious, acute, and an embodi- 
 ment of common sense ; and yet not quite the 
 prosaic little body such qualities might indicate, 
 for she had a dash of romance or sentiment or 
 poetry, or what you will, about her that softened 
 what might have been otherwise a rather too de- 
 cided character. But although common sense 
 was her chief gift, she had found herself so con- 
 spicuous among the coterie in which she lived by 
 reason of it that it required rather a vigorous 
 appeal to that gift to prevent her believing her- 
 self a genius. She was now in danger of think- 
 ing, not that she was above what the average 
 woman should be, but that the majority were 
 below it. 
 
 But although her married life had not been 
 one of great ease or great prosperity, it had so 
 far been entirely happy, and since the new house 
 had been taken, and especially since the dear 
 baby had come, her cup seemed brimming over. 
 Sometimes she would sigh with utter content as 
 she realized that she had every wish gratified. 
 
 Her dearest friend, Mrs. Welles, although a 
 very happy woman herself, yet could hardly 
 understand Molly's joyful content.
 
 CHOOSING FURNITURE. 23 
 
 " You must be very much in love with Harry, 
 Molly," she said one day when the latter had 
 said, rather solemnly, " I am almost frightened 
 at having every wish fulfilled ; it cannot last." 
 
 Mrs. Welles laughed. " Don't let that fear be 
 your one crumpled rose-leaf. It 's your own na- 
 ture that makes your happiness. I know a dozen 
 women who could put a ' but' in it. Harry is a 
 dear good fellow, but not better than most men 
 I know. Don't you think Mrs. A. and Mrs. D. 
 have everything you have and rather more ? but 
 have they such an oppressive sense of their bless- 
 ings, do you think ? Was n't Mrs. A. worrying 
 because her sealskin was shabby and Mr. A. 
 could not spare money for a new one? And 
 was n't Mrs. D. full of weariness because she has 
 only one servant, and has to be ' mistress and 
 maid too,' as she characterized it ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know, and wonder sometimes how 
 they let such little miseries worry them ; but I 
 am also conscious that I have a tremendous 
 capacity myself for being unhappy about things 
 that would not trouble many. Just imagine if 
 any one dear to me or Harry had given us such 
 a proof of loving industry as Mr. Framley's 
 mother gave them, a plaster Venus di Medici 
 colored by herself, with blue eyes, golden hair, 
 and tinted skin, and then expect it to be of 
 course the leading ornament of the drawing- 
 room ! "
 
 24 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 " Molly, you don't mean it ! " 
 
 " I do. I never have liked Mrs. Framley 
 much, but since I saw that, and saw her painful 
 flush when she explained that it was her mother- 
 in-law's work, I have respected her very much. 
 I 'm afraid a very bad picture would be capable 
 of making me miserable if I were forced to have 
 it before my eyes, or else wound some one's feel- 
 ings. And that is what makes me so determined 
 to think well, and not to buy one single ugly 
 thing, or one that we may tire of." 
 
 "That is right; think what a nightmare of 
 ugliness we were all brought up in ! " 
 
 Molly had written down a list of the articles 
 they would need, and hoped to get every essen- 
 tial for a thousand dollars. A few months be- 
 fore she would have said five hundred, and 
 would have said she could furnish neatly and 
 prettily. Now there was no need for such a low 
 limit ; but even now she knew she must watch 
 all the small expenditures very closely in order 
 not to fritter the money away. Trifles that cost 
 "only a dollar," or "only five," are the little 
 foxes that eat into large sums, which melt like 
 snow in the sun. She had drawn up a list of ar- 
 ticles they actually must have, and resolved not 
 to be tempted to make a single purchase outside 
 of them until they were all bought. 
 
 This was all the harder to accomplish, perhaps,
 
 CHOOSING FURNITURE. 25 
 
 since her husband did not second her in this 
 economy. His position was improved, he was 
 junior partner in his father's business, and could 
 not see, as he had three thousand dollars in the 
 bank, why she should not spend double on the 
 house, if she wished. 
 
 "For one thing, because I think it will be 
 more in keeping with the character of the house 
 to be prettily rather than handsomely furnished ; 
 and then we never know what may happen. 
 When Meg (the baby's name was Margaret) 
 grows up we may like a larger house. By that 
 time our furniture will have done its duty, if we 
 do not pay too much, and we can refurnish. 
 The money we save can go towards it." 
 
 " Well, don't get bureau-drawers that make a 
 man want to swear every time he goes for a 
 clean shirt ; nor get cadaverous glasses, nor 
 weak-kneed chairs." 
 
 " All those things I will religiously avoid, in 
 fact have pledged myself to do so. I forego 
 style." 
 
 " Although a woman ! " 
 
 " Although a woman. Style and solidity do 
 not go together under a certain large number of 
 dollars. I seek beautiful simplicity and strength 
 at as low a price as may be." 
 
 " May I be there to see when you 've found 
 them?"
 
 26 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 " You will, dear ; I shall buy nothing until 
 you have approved/' 
 
 Molly had already seen bedroom furniture at 
 a warehouse several months before that had ful- 
 filled her ideal. It was called Eastlake, and was 
 made with the severest simplicity. The simple 
 lines were without any ornament, not a scroll 
 or button. Four lines of grooving ran up the 
 posts. Other lines surrounded the head and 
 footboard, and framed the glass which was large 
 and square. The wood was ash, and not a cent 
 had been wasted on ornament. But although 
 the furniture was as low in price as such well- 
 made work could be, she had not been sure when 
 she saw it that she might not have to content 
 herself with painted pine. 
 
 To this store she went and found that there 
 was nothing of the kind there now; she tried 
 many others. Everywhere she found bedroom 
 sets at lower prices even for ash, but how sadly 
 cheap they looked! Everywhere she went, 
 cheap ornament and poor workmanship, or else 
 high prices and still, ornament. 
 
 At last she went back to the store where she 
 had seen the Eastlake sets. 
 
 " Is n't it possible that I can get furniture ex- 
 actly like what I saw here five months ago ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; we can order it again, if you will 
 point out the style in this book."
 
 CHOOSING FURNITURE. 27 
 
 Molly quickly did so, found that she had to 
 pay something more than the price she had then 
 been asked, but gladly did it. She ordered two 
 sets, and one of painted pine for the servants' 
 room. 
 
 In talking over the parlor furniture, Harry 
 and herself had agreed not to have any expen- 
 sive stuffed chairs, but three or four rattan easy- 
 chairs, the most comfortable to be found. 
 
 " Don't buy a chair that is n't comfortable to 
 sit in, Molly. I hate those stereotyped parlor 
 chairs that you try to keep every one from sit- 
 ting in, because you know they are uncomfort- 
 able. What is the sense of having a chair in 
 the room of which you are obliged to say, * Oh, 
 don't sit in that, this is much more comfort- 
 able'?" 
 
 " I agree with you. And there are such dear 
 little gossip chairs now." 
 
 So the rattan armchairs, stained of a rich 
 warm tan (which Molly saw in her mind's eye 
 invested with downy cushions of peacock-blue), 
 with three quaint but very cosy little gossip 
 chairs, and a rocker of the kind that is very 
 comfortable but takes little room, and whose 
 tall, straight back of twisted cherry has a certain 
 dignity not belonging to rockers, comprised the 
 sitting accommodation of the parlor. These all 
 cost less than the usual half a dozen stuffed
 
 28 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 chairs would have done if well made, even with- 
 out covering ; but they had decided that the one 
 extravagance must be a broad, low, Turkish 
 lounge. When of good quality, these are never 
 low-priced, but they are the only really comfort- 
 able kind of lounge. This was bought uncov- 
 ered, and a lounge rug of oriental color and 
 fabric (so called) was bought to cover it. It 
 cost less than covering of equally good quality. 
 
 For the parlor rug, a very deep Indian blue 
 was chosen, with an almost invisible pattern of 
 a blue that was almost black. For this also she 
 hunted through many stores. She had of course 
 no special pattern in mind ; but a dark, oriental 
 blue carpet without pattern, or so small a one 
 that the general effect should still be blue, was 
 what she wanted. Of course, as she was limited 
 to a hundred dollars for a fourteen-feet-square 
 rug, she could only buy a soft, thick, Wilton 
 carpet and have it made. This was excellent of 
 its kind and better than a cheap oriental rug. 
 
 For the dining-room and bedrooms, however, 
 she bought Japanese rugs. Those for the bed- 
 rooms were exceedingly pretty, in willow -blue 
 shades, and being all cotton they were moth- 
 proof.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WHAT TO DO ? 
 
 " I AM getting very anxious about Mary. She 
 is sixteen, and I cannot see that she has any 
 special talent for anything; yet of course she 
 must earn her own living." 
 
 The speaker was Mrs. Lennox, and Mary was 
 her eldest girl. She had often, during the last 
 few months, spoken of her anxiety as to her 
 daughter's future to Molly, and then the mat- 
 ter had dropped. 
 
 " I know you must be anxious. What does 
 Mary say ? " 
 
 " Well, she does not say, that is the worst of 
 it. But she will docilely take up any course I 
 decide upon." 
 
 Molly, without any special reason, had watched 
 the girl, and had seen that, although she was 
 bright, she was not adapted to teaching ; indeed, 
 Mrs. Lennox had wisely decided not to prepare 
 her for that overcrowded profession to which 
 every young girl of a certain social class seemed 
 to turn. She had not her mother's love of sew-
 
 30 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 ing, but was quite able to turn her hand to all 
 useful things. 
 
 " You know it is my firm conviction that if 
 a woman does any one thing thoroughly well, 
 she can make a living ; even in teaching, over- 
 crowded as that profession is, any one who is 
 more thorough than the average will never need 
 employment, although I agree with you that it 
 is the last thing to choose. It is so much 
 easier when a girl or boy shows some decided 
 leaning toward one thing. I can't understand 
 people thwarting their wishes; they might be 
 sure they would not succeed so well in other 
 things." 
 
 At this point Mrs. Welles, Mrs. Bishop's in- 
 timate friend, who was living near her, came in. 
 Meg, who was now toddling about and making- 
 bold efforts to climb up stairs and probably to 
 fall down, which it took considerable vigilance 
 to frustrate, greeted her with a scream and out- 
 stretched arms, and was seized and hugged to 
 her heart's content, for Mrs. Welles was Meg's 
 chief idolater. 
 
 " We were talking, Charlotte, about Mary 
 Lennox and what she is to do in life. Women's 
 work is rather a hobby of yours, can you help 
 us ? " asked Molly, as she made room for her 
 friend on the piazza. 
 
 " I don't suppose so. My hobby, as you call
 
 WHAT TO DO? 31 
 
 it, is only on one phase of woman's work. I 
 don't think it is so necessary to find new em- 
 ployments for women, although that would be a 
 good thing, as to teach that women must do 
 thoroughly the work ready to their hands. Only 
 this morning I read in a London paper that 
 there are hundreds of seamstresses requiring 
 work, and quite as large a number of ladies who 
 say they cannot get work fairly well done except 
 at higher prices than they can afford, which 
 means that average seamstresses do not sew well 
 enough to obtain employment, and that those 
 who work better than the average have more 
 than they can do, and so charge very high 
 prices. If this is true of a crowded city like 
 London, it is even more true here. If we want 
 a gown made we can get it by going to a first- 
 rate dressmaker and paying a first-rate price ; 
 but one does not want to buy a charming sateen 
 at twenty-five cents a yard and pay even ten 
 dollars to get it made. A seamstress will make 
 it for three, but unless one is quite unable to 
 cut, we know our own fit and taste will be so 
 much better that we do it ourselves. I have 
 never learned dressmaking nor have a special 
 talent for it, yet, if I want a dress made over, I 
 can do it myself so that it will look graceful and 
 not clumsy. If I plan it and fix it and give it 
 out to a seamstress, it may possibly give me some
 
 32 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 pleasure, but I have used time that I needed 
 for other matters, and, besides, if I must plan, 
 I would as soon do the whole thing ; so you see 
 she goes without the work, and I keep money in 
 my pocket I would rather have paid out. Only 
 this morning I heard of a woman needing work ; 
 I inquire, and am told her intentions are good, 
 she is industrious, but she cannot be trusted 
 with work requiring care." 
 
 " I can tell you of a woman, Charlotte ; she 
 really can plan and alter just as one would one's 
 self. She is a woman named Gibbs." 
 
 "I am so glad to know of her, but I must 
 make haste and avail myself, for I am quite sure 
 she will not be long without work." 
 
 "Oh, I don't mean that she is, she has a 
 great deal more than she can do ; only if you 
 want work done and speak a week or two ahead, 
 you need have no planning." 
 
 " Now, is n't that exactly what I have said ? " 
 cried Mrs. Welles, triumphantly. " There are 
 several industrious women here needing work, 
 but this one, who does unusually well, has more 
 than she can do ; and, after all, it is often not 
 skill or training in a sewing - woman that is 
 needed, only care and observation, with the am- 
 bition to do, not ' well enough,' but as well as 
 possible." 
 
 Mrs. Welles's gray eyes were luminous with
 
 WHAT TO DO* 33 
 
 her earnestness. Molly smiled demurely and 
 then said : 
 
 " Well, what shall Mary Lennox learn thor- 
 oughly ? Her mother will see that she under- 
 stands that gospel well." 
 
 " Oh, her mother must be a much better 
 judge. What does she like ? " 
 
 " Nothing, especially, but gardening, nor does 
 she dislike anything ; I wish she did, it would 
 at least be something to avoid." 
 
 " Then why not gardening ? " 
 
 " Gardening ! " cried Mrs. Lennox, while 
 Molly looked wonderingly at her friend. 
 
 " Yes. Don't you think florists get rich ? Is 
 there a place in Greenfield where you can buy a 
 bunch of roses if you want ? And did n't you, 
 Molly, write to me Easter to get you a few 
 lilies ? And only last week I saw Mr. Framley 
 carrying home a box of cut flowers." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; if we want anything but carna- 
 tions, geraniums, heliotropes, and smilax, in win- 
 ter, we have to send to New York. Our soli- 
 tary florist never has more than one rose at a 
 time in bloom, and rarely that," said Molly. 
 
 Mrs. Lennox looked thoughtful. 
 
 " It is certainly worth thinking about." 
 
 Mrs. Welles was at once interested. 
 
 "You will be a sensible mother if you let 
 Mary make an effort in the direction in which
 
 34 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 her taste really lies ; but do not let her be satis- 
 fied with growing just what every small florist 
 has. She must make the subject, or, better still, 
 some one branch of it, her study ; read up every 
 good authority, and experiment for the next four 
 years ; and, trust me, when she is twenty, she 
 will be able to take care of herself. And if 
 she has real taste and enthusiasm, she will do 
 more ; for instance, if she produces finer flow- 
 ers than the average, she will soon become 
 widely known. It is remaining at the dead 
 level average, and being satisfied with that, that 
 is fatal to prosperity." 
 
 "I think, in cultivating flowers, Mary will 
 not rest until she produces the very best of the 
 kind she has ever seen. Her pansies we are all 
 proud of, and she read in a newspaper, last year, 
 how to have pond-lilies without a pond, and has 
 been so anxious to try. But you know we have 
 very little money to indulge our tastes, so, small 
 as the cost might be, she cannot indulge herself. 
 However, if it is to help her in future, the 
 money should not be lacking." 
 
 " Pansies are always in such demand, why not 
 make a specialty of them if your ground is 
 suited? I always recommend a specialty, by 
 which I mean directing all one's efforts to doing 
 one thing especially well, rather than dividing 
 one's efforts up among many things ; and it is
 
 WHAT TO DO? 35 
 
 the one superior thing that people run after and 
 pay great prices for, rather than the average one 
 they can buy on every block." 
 
 " Hear, hear," said Molly, clapping her hands 
 gently ; and little Meg, who had been sitting on 
 a mat between the three, apparently engaged in 
 discovering the inner mechanism of a woolen 
 lamb, dropped it suddenly and clapped her 
 chubby hands in imitation of her mother, laugh- 
 ing gleefully. 
 
 Charlotte had risen in her excitement, and 
 what she called her "gaudy hair" had dropped 
 from its usual confinement, and her manner was 
 almost fierce in her earnestness. The sight of 
 Meg's gleeful clapping tickled her sense of 
 humor. 
 
 " I declare, I 'm ' orating ' again, as Cuthbert 
 calls it, and this darling even sees the absurd- 
 ity." She caught up the child with a gay laugh, 
 and when seated and her hair fastened again she 
 said quietly, " Molly knows how warmly I feel 
 on these points. I mean the necessity there is 
 for a high standard of work and a determina- 
 tion to reach it. But seriously, if your daugh- 
 ter wishes to begin business on a small scale at 
 once, I would advise her to make a little money 
 as she goes along by raising radishes and salad 
 to be ready just when they bring a high price. 
 I know the people here would be glad to have
 
 36 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 somewhere to send when there is nothing to be 
 got in these stores but carrots and turnips and 
 canned things ; and the Woman's Exchange in 
 New York will take early radishes, lettuce, coun- 
 try butter, honey, provided they are all better 
 than the average, and I am sure they would take 
 cut flowers in time." 
 
 " I am almost inclined to go into the kitchen 
 garden business myself," said Mrs. Lennox, 
 laughing, as she rose and folded her work. 
 " Now I am going to tell Mary all I have heard. 
 I am inclined to think that she will listen with a 
 good deal more heart than to anything we have 
 yet mooted to her." 
 
 " Give my love to her, and tell her if her pan- 
 sies beat Spink's " (Spink was the solitary Green- 
 field florist), " I '11 be a good customer ; if they 
 don't, I '11 none of them. Oh, and tell her if 
 she starts her pond-lilies, I '11 get her some bulbs 
 of the famous Boston pink lilies which no one 
 can buy." 
 
 " Thank you very much," said Mrs. Lennox. 
 " I am really almost sanguine myself that she 
 may succeed." 
 
 " Molly," said Charlotte, after Mrs. Lennox 
 had gone, "I 've come to lunch, and I'm awfully 
 hungry. I always am when I come here, be- 
 cause I 'm sure to find the unexpected." 
 
 "You will, this morning, in the shape of
 
 WHAT TO DO? 37 
 
 scraps. There is cold veal, a little cold white- 
 fish which I told Marta to warm up with the 
 cold drawn butter and an egg beaten in it, and, 
 of course, there 's lettuce." 
 
 " Why, that 's quite a swell lunch." 
 
 " Well, the fish is n't enough for two hungry 
 people ; there was n't more than two or three 
 tablespoonfuls, but if you '11 make some mayon- 
 naise, we '11 improve the veal into a salad." 
 
 Molly perceived Marta at the corner of the 
 piazza making signs to her. 
 
 " Lunch is ready, I have no doubt, and Marta 
 is wondering how we are going to manage, or 
 whether I will dare to ask you to divide a spoon- 
 ful of picked-up fish with me ; she will never 
 get used to ' pot luck.' We '11 relieve her mind 
 at once." 
 
 They went into the cool and pretty dining- 
 room. Annie carried Meg away to be made 
 neat, and Mrs. Welles, seeing the high chair, 
 said, as she prepared to make the mayonnaise, 
 " Have you promoted Meg to appear at table ? " 
 
 "Yes, she sits very quietly, and if she has 
 her little meal by me I see the way she eats. I 
 don't want her to form slobbering habits, and she 
 begins to handle a spoon quite well ; of course, 
 Annie or I are ready to help her in case of dif- 
 ficulty." 
 
 As she spoke, Molly was shaving the veal in
 
 38 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 tiny little slices with the carving-knife, which 
 was always kept sharp as a razor, and as they 
 curled up over her knife she dropped them into 
 the center of the dish of lettuce ; when there 
 was quite a little heap she seasoned it with salt 
 and pepper, and when Mrs. Welles had the 
 mayonnaise ready she spread it over the meat, 
 and the veal salad, almost equal to chicken, was 
 made. 
 
 When they were seated, and Meg had her lit- 
 tle chop and baked potato, which Annie cut very 
 fine for her, Mrs. Welles said, "You ought to 
 get Meg one of those nice little trays that come 
 nowadays for children. I will get her one." 
 
 " Oh, please don't. Meg is to learn to eat so 
 cleanly that she will not need it. My mother 
 used to say such things as bibs and trays pro- 
 longed the time of untidy feeding, because one 
 is unconsciously less watchful if the bib only is 
 soiled or the tray, and the child soon knows it 
 must not soil frock or pinafore, while the bib is 
 only put on to be soiled. Annie, too, will be 
 more careful in not letting her drop food if it is 
 to fall on cloth or dress." 
 
 " But until she does learn ? " 
 
 "Well, you will see she really makes very 
 little mess. If she has broth or soup, Annie 
 steadies the spoon ; the same with oat-meal por- 
 ridge or mush. Her clean pinafore is not put
 
 WHAT TO DOf 39 
 
 on till after lunch, for the present, and if the 
 table-cloth suffers, a napkin is put on just as if 
 I or Harry made a spot. There is one under her 
 plate now." 
 
 " Well, Molly, there may be something in 
 what you say, but I 'm afraid I should prefer 
 bibs." 
 
 Meg did eat very neatly. There was a small 
 collection of potato crumbs on the cloth round 
 her and a little milk on her pinafore, which 
 Molly pointed out to her, but with a little 
 shocked look that, baby as she was, she under- 
 stood ; she also shook her head and deplored the 
 mess. 
 
 Mrs. Welles had always laughed heartily at 
 Molly's " training the baby," but she had looked 
 with pleasure at the handling of the spoon. She 
 had fully expected to see her turn it bowl up- 
 wards long before it reached her mouth, but gen- 
 erally it arrived at its goal with all its contents. 
 When it was in danger of capsizing, Annie gave 
 just enough aid to prevent it, and with spoon 
 food this support was given to every mouthful. 
 
 " And do you go through that little perform- 
 ance of deploring the mess every day, Molly ? " 
 asked Charlotte, after Meg had gone to have her 
 slip changed. 
 
 " Yes, almost. Meg and I mourn over it to- 
 gether, but the idea is well grounded in her lit-
 
 40 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 tie mind already that great care is to be taken, 
 and when a big accident happens, or there is 
 more mess than usual, we both make a great 
 time over it." 
 
 " Yet it really seems to me that if you were 
 to let Annie feed her for a year or so, you would 
 have no mess at all." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I should ; in fact, there would be 
 rather more of it. You notice how many chil- 
 dren who are fed will turn away their heads to 
 look at something just as the spoon is close to 
 their mouths. I know one little boy at four 
 years old who has a devoted nurse ; his attention 
 is never fixed on what he eats, everything attracts 
 him, and the spoon follows his movements, so 
 that wherever his mouth happens to be, there is 
 the spoon ready to pop into it. 
 
 " That, of course, is an extreme case. All I 
 mean is, that if a child is allowed to handle a 
 spoon herself, or with such slight aid as makes 
 her believe she is doing so, her mental, or, per- 
 haps, at such an age, one might say her ' instinc- 
 tive,' act and her manual one help each other. 
 Of course I may be all wrong. One can't argue 
 from experience with one child. Meg may be 
 unusually quick in using her hands, only I must 
 tell you Mrs. Lennox says at two and a half 
 years old her children fed themselves neatly 
 without assistance."
 
 WHAT TO DO? 41 
 
 " Did she use bibs ? " 
 
 " No, she had trays, but no feeding bib, and 
 says she is quite sure the tray hindered habits 
 of neatness ; there was no special care to avoid 
 slopping the tray. 
 
 " I expect, with Meg, to have a few accidents, 
 to have a few extra napkins and cloths soiled, 
 for a few months, and once in a while, I sup- 
 pose, an extra slip, but you know they are not 
 trimmed, so they add little to the work, and I 
 am sure she will eat neatly much quicker if we 
 are all on our guard, than if we give her bib and 
 tray and take little notice of mishaps."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MOLLY THINKS BACK. 
 
 ME. and Mrs. Bishop had been two years in 
 their new home, and had enjoyed a very happy, 
 bright, and prosperous time, to which every day 
 seemed to bring new pleasure. Meg was devel- 
 oping very pretty ways, began to make odd little 
 speeches, and was altogether a wonder and de- 
 light to her parents. But through all this joy 
 Molly had been uneasily conscious of a crumpled 
 rose leaf. She had said, when Mr. Bishop's 
 means were unexpectedly increased, that they 
 would not change their mode of living except so 
 far as keeping a nurse made a change. She had 
 then added nurse's wages and cost of board to 
 her former estimate, and also the expense of gas, 
 which in the new house would take the place 
 of kerosene, and a considerable increase in the 
 cost of fuel; for, although the house they now 
 had was not large, it would take nearly twice 
 as much fuel to heat it as the little cottage in 
 which they had spent their first months of house- 
 keeping, where there was but just room in the
 
 MOLLY THINKS BACK. 43 
 
 hall for a stove which tempered the air of the 
 whole house and made the large fires in the rooms 
 little necessary except on very cold days. But 
 in the new house there was the furnace, which 
 burned more coal itself than all the fires in the 
 cottage, and seemed only just sufficient to keep 
 the large hall and staircase and dining-room 
 warm. In cold weather they still needed a par- 
 lor fire and two up-stairs, besides the kitchen. 
 
 However, these were the legitimate expenses 
 of occupying a house built on a much larger 
 scale ; but Molly had awakened, at the end of 
 the first year in the house, to the fact that their 
 expenses had doubled. The first year Molly 
 kept house she had kept rigid account ; but the 
 baby came, and for three months after it had 
 not seemed so necessary, as they were going into 
 the new house, and she knew exactly what she 
 would spend ; but after settling down with so in- 
 experienced a nurse, it had been very easy to 
 drift along from week to week and month to 
 month without the accounts. Harry had been 
 to blame, partly, for when she had expressed re- 
 gret for her negligence and declared her inten- 
 tion of turning over a new leaf at once, he would 
 say: 
 
 " My dear girl, I would n't. You know what 
 you spend. Pay your butcher and grocer once 
 a week ; keep an eye on their accounts. You
 
 44 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 get the gas, coal, and milk bills, and really, in 
 such a small way of living as ours, the accounts 
 almost keep themselves. We are not now lim- 
 ited to a dollar or two. While I had a stated 
 salary and five dollars a month expended beyond 
 a certain sum meant debt, and before many such 
 -months, disaster, it was all very necessary, but 
 now the few dollars, more or less, will not ruin 
 us." 
 
 Molly shook her head. She knew his reason- 
 ing, though kind, since he thought of her ease 
 and pleasure, was not sound, but she allowed 
 herself to drift. Meg was very enticing ; she 
 knew the child did not really prevent her doing 
 anything that she had formerly done, but it is 
 much easier to leave undone than to do. 
 
 For some little time before Meg was born, 
 and, necessarily, some time after, she had given 
 up going to market herself. The butcher called 
 for orders, as he did on nearly all the neighbors. 
 At first her orders had been carefully and ex- 
 actly attended to, and though she felt she lost 
 much by not being able to take advantage of the 
 market as she could by seeing, she yet submitted 
 to the inevitable. But somehow the habit of 
 personal marketing had never been taken up 
 again. She had not gone with Harry every 
 morning to the depot after Meg was born ; not 
 because she could n't do it, for Marta would
 
 MOLLY 77/AVA'S BACK. 45 
 
 always attend to the baby, even before Annie 
 canie, but because it did require some little reso- 
 lution. Though Molly was anything but a self- 
 indulgent or indolent woman, when duty was 
 plain to her, she yet easily strayed away from 
 the narrow path in which she forced herself to 
 walk where need was evident, into broader and 
 more flowery ways, and took no heed of her 
 steps. 
 
 But now, at the end of two years, a little 
 thing, only reading in a newspaper how much a 
 mother had saved for her child by putting away 
 five cents every day from the time she was born 
 until she was twenty-one, aroused her. It did 
 not touch her own experience at all, but it set 
 her thinking, and when Harry had eaten his din- 
 ner that evening and had lighted his cigar she 
 said with an unusually grave air, for Molly was 
 something of a laughing philosopher and seldom 
 very grave : 
 
 " Harry, are you too tired to talk seriously a 
 little while?" 
 
 He looked at her in surprise. 
 
 " My dear Molly, of course not. Am I ever 
 too tired, and don't I always talk seriously ? " 
 
 " You are not doing so now," Molly retorted. 
 " However, I want to ask you one thing : do you 
 think we live very much better than we did in 
 the AVinston cottage ? " 
 
 " No, I don't."
 
 46 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 " Well, we spend a hundred dollars a month 
 more than we did there." 
 
 " I know it, and have wondered, but I said 
 nothing, for we are well within my income, and 
 I think you have an easier time." 
 
 " I discover what I have before suspected, and 
 that is, that I am naturally a very easy-going 
 and indolent person. The last two years I have 
 been negligent. I spent this afternoon in going 
 over my bills to find the leak, but I cannot put 
 my finger on any one thing, yet, in one month, 
 I easily found fifteen dollars in mere trifles that 
 we should have done without, and been quite as 
 well without, when we were living within a cer- 
 tain limit." 
 
 " But, my dear, we only do as our neighbors 
 do, and there is no need of living within the 
 same severe limit. I don't believe there is 
 waste." 
 
 " Well, the fact is, I am, perhaps, very greedy, 
 but I must say I like to enjoy all I can afford. 
 But we are not enjoying ourselves to the extent 
 of a hundred dollars a month. When we came 
 to this house I doubled our coal bill in my own 
 mind, thought of Annie, in fact, added five hun- 
 dred a year to our expenses, and if I had done 
 in this house as I did in the other, that is to say, 
 if every scrap of food had passed under my eye, 
 it would have sufficed, and we should apparently
 
 MOLLY THJXKS BACK. 47 
 
 have lived as well as now, because I have really 
 been economical. I mean I have not ordered 
 the things I would have liked many times, be- 
 cause of the expense. Now if we are to spend 
 fifty dollars a month more than needful, let us 
 do it knowingly and enjoyingly." 
 
 " Nonsense, Molly ; really two thousand a year 
 is very little to spend, living as we do, for we 
 have two servants and every comfort." 
 
 " I don't care ; if I return to my old ways, 
 you '11 see either that we have a good many little 
 luxuries we do without now, or we will have 
 money saved. I don't mean to say that there 
 has been extravagance, but the best has not been 
 made of things. There is no sense, for instance, 
 in paying twenty-eight cents a pound for veal, 
 as I find by this week's bill it is, when, by wait- 
 ing three weeks, the very same meat will be only 
 eighteen cents. I forgot to ask the man the 
 price of veal, and although in May it is usually 
 the cheapest meat, it is, this year, very dear. 
 Then I see, during the past year, I have bought 
 chickens at twenty-five cents a pound. It is not 
 a very terrible extravagance, and yet there is 
 just the difference between good and bad man- 
 agement. I am willing, for a treat, to pay forty 
 cents a pound for a broiler, but I want to feel 
 while doing it that I really am having a luxury." 
 
 Harry laughed heartily.
 
 48 MOLLY /SHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 " I confess I do not see the difference, Molly." 
 
 " I do. I have heard numbers of English 
 and Americans wonder where the French of 
 small means find the money for things that they, 
 who are much richer, can't afford. A French 
 family can oftener go to the opera, or dine at a 
 first-rate restaurant, or hire a carriage, than peo- 
 ple of much larger incomes. But it is just be- 
 cause they do their extravagance deliberately, 
 and enjoy it to the full. Now I am going to 
 turn over a new leaf, and once more see to every- 
 thing myself ; above all, I shall go to market." 
 
 "Well, but can't you shut down on some- 
 thing ? If Marta slings things, tell her you will 
 not have it. Don't make a slave of yourself." 
 
 " I don't mean to do that, I never did yet ; 
 and poor Marta does not ' sling things,' as you 
 call it ; and there is absolutely no one special 
 thing to 'shut down on,' only things are not 
 made to go just as far as they will. It is diffi- 
 cult to say just where retrenchment may come 
 in, but it is in every single thing, probably." 
 
 Molly was as good as her word, and the next 
 morning she started to market. In after-years 
 she wondered at herself. How could she possi- 
 bly have managed without seeing the meat she 
 wanted before it was cut ? Why had she drifted 
 into shirking (for that was the uncompromising 
 word she used) a duty that she after all enjoyed
 
 MOLLY THINKS BACK. 49 
 
 when she set about it. It may as well be said 
 here that Molly never again slipped back into 
 an easy-going acquiescence. The shock of find- 
 ing (once she roused herself to the task of exam- 
 ination) that money could so sift away and leave 
 so little trace, that with an economy that re- 
 fused self-indulgence on many little points, there 
 yet should have been so much spent in avoidable 
 trifles, had startled her so that never again did 
 she backslide. 
 
 Mrs. Welles had remonstrated on her severity 
 to herself, reminding her that two thousand dol- 
 lars a year was a very moderate amount, and 
 that they got quite as much out of it as most 
 people. 
 
 " Yes, Charlotte, that is very true, but unfor- 
 tunately, you see, I can, by using time which I 
 have abundance of, make the money go half as 
 far again, and not to do it is certainly to wrap 
 my one small talent in a napkin." 
 
 In the days of her misfortunes how thankful 
 she was to remember that, once having seen the 
 line of her duty, she followed it ; that she had 
 not to reproach herself with continued negli- 
 gence. 
 
 But the night that she decided to turn over a 
 new leaf she made her resolutions at Meg's bed- 
 side. It was her custom to hear her prayers, 
 and then to tell her some little story or verses
 
 50 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 before she left the room. This evening, however, 
 after she hacl heard her prayers and tucked her 
 up, she sat silent for a minute thinking, when 
 Meg brought her to herself by saying, as she 
 snugly settled herself : 
 
 " More cock-robin prayers, peas, mamma." 
 Molly looked at the rosy little one for a mo- 
 ment puzzled, then she laughed, for she under- 
 stood that, to Meg, prayers and stories were all 
 one.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MOLLY ENGAGES A NURSE A DOUBTFUL 
 TREASURE. 
 
 IT will be needless to tell the friends of Molly 
 Bishop that no part of her furnishing interested 
 her more than her kitchen. To have every 
 needful thing, and not one useless one, was what 
 she studied. I wish space would allow me to 
 describe the cosy kitchen, but that I cannot do, 
 yet I will say that as it was small, corner closets 
 of pine were put up at convenient height to 
 hold articles that would not be often used, and 
 encumber the kitchen closet such as fruit jars, 
 etc. ; these took no floor space. Over the 
 kitchen table was a broad shelf, well out of the 
 way of anything that might be standing on it, 
 yet within easy reach, on which to set any fin- 
 ished articles and those that would be wanted 
 too soon to warrant them being carried to the 
 safe, etc. In her search for furniture, Molly 
 had found an old-fashioned, gay-colored hearth 
 rug, very cheap, because, although so out of date, 
 it was of good make. This she had bought to
 
 52 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 lay before the table when work was done, and 
 a bright red, ingrain table-cover gave a cosy, 
 homelike look to the room. She would have 
 liked a small rocker for Marta's comfort, but in a 
 sixteen by sixteen kitchen such a thing would be 
 a perpetual stumbling-block. She got, instead, a 
 folding chair, with carpet back and seat, that 
 was easier for sewing than the ordinary kitchen 
 chair. 
 
 When all the delightful fuss of purchasing 
 and settling down was over, Molly had to think 
 of the nurse that their means now justified her 
 in having. It had been a subject of much com- 
 ment among her friends, and some ridicule on 
 the part of her mother-in-law, that she had not 
 engaged a nurse before the toil of moving into 
 the new house was undertaken. 
 
 Molly had learned that to be constantly ex- 
 plaining reasons and justifying her actions to 
 Mrs. Bishop senior, placed her in the position of 
 seeming to think herself wiser than others. She 
 generally thought out her course, but to explain 
 this process made her feel as if she must seem 
 very " preachy," so she simply left her to " won- 
 der at Molly," and at Harry indulging such 
 freaks. How could that darling baby be prop- 
 erly tended, with Molly " up to her eyes in work." 
 But the baby flourished, nevertheless, and lay 
 on the mattresses or rugs, and rolled and kicked
 
 MOLLY ENGAGES A NURSE. 53 
 
 and sometimes cried while Marta and Molly got 
 the rooms in order. But although she would 
 not explain reasons to her critics, she answered 
 her affectionate friends' remonstrances frankly 
 enough. 
 
 " To tell the truth, Charlotte, there is nothing 
 terrible about it. If Harry had been in his 
 old position I would never have thought of a 
 nurse, and should have been obliged to do what 
 I now do from choice ; but I shall have a nurse 
 for two reasons : I believe in doing everything 
 that is necessary thoroughly and cheerfully, even 
 if it is a task taking all one's strength, or if it 
 be the greatest drudgery, but I do not believe 
 in wasting one's self unnecessarily for the sake 
 of saving twelve dollars a month and a little 
 food. Another reason, I have a feeling that if 
 you have the means of employing one unem- 
 ployed woman it is a sort of duty to do it." 
 
 "Then why not have performed that duty 
 already and saved yourself? " 
 
 " In the first place, I have enjoyed the work ; 
 the baby is absolutely well and of course is very 
 good. But my chief reason is that I intend to 
 take a perfectly green girl, the more inexperi- 
 enced the better." 
 
 " Oh, Molly, what a notion ! You have a 
 partial success in Marta, for I cannot see my- 
 self that a girl you have to follow and watch is
 
 54 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 a treasure, but you may not find another 
 Marta." 
 
 "You don't do justice to my poor Marta," 
 laughed Molly ; " the fact is, as servants go in 
 this country, I am well satisfied. When the 
 whole system is improved we may hope for some 
 ability in addition to good intentions." 
 
 " Well, then, why would not even a green girl 
 be better than nothing ? " 
 
 " Because, if I had such a one, I could teach 
 her nothing while so busy ; besides, when people 
 are unsettled, one has to make shift in many 
 ways, and a week, if it be the first week, of 
 unsettled living in the semi-picnic style inevitable, 
 before things get into a settled way, would de- 
 moralize her so that it might take months to 
 make her see what our ways really are, first 
 impressions are so strong. But it is not only 
 that ; I want to have leisure to teach her all my 
 ways and have nothing to unteach." 
 
 " There is a great deal in that ; I admit that 
 the process of unlearning seems to be the most 
 difficult possible ; one would think when that 
 comes to be tried that their brains were as ' wax 
 to receive and adamant to retain ; ' yet, when 
 one tries to teach them, the case is very differ- 
 ent, the wax is lard and will receive no per- 
 manent impression." 
 
 Mrs. Bishop had found the one servant she
 
 MOLLY ENGAGES A NURSE. 55 
 
 had at Castle Garden, and taught her everything 
 she knew. Very much of her teaching had 
 slipped from the girl, yet she retained enough 
 to make her a fair cook. She ought to have 
 been a very fine one. Yet Molly did not be- 
 lieve she would have done as well had she taken 
 a young woman who had been long in the coun- 
 try and learned to do a few things badly. At 
 any rate the result of her experiment was to 
 encourage a repetition, and once the house was 
 in perfect order Molly went to find a nurse. 
 
 Marta being German, she thought it would be 
 better to go to Castle Garden the day on which 
 she was most likely to find one of the same 
 nationality. I confess she had in her mind's 
 eye some fair-haired Gretchen, such as she had 
 so often seen in Germany (so few of whom seem 
 to arrive in this country in all the thousands 
 that come), in whose arms it would be a pleas- 
 ure to see her darling ; but, as when she engaged 
 her square, solid Marta, she had pictured a 
 bright, intelligent girl, so now there were no 
 Gretchens, only toil-worn, hard-featured or 
 stupid -looking women. In vain the matron 
 pointed out one dazed creature after another. 
 Not one did Molly think would suit. At last, 
 just as she was about to give up for that morn- 
 ing, she saw in a corner a small figure with her 
 head buried in the bundle beside her. Molly 
 crossed to her and spoke.
 
 56 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 She was very young, dark, and thin, and she 
 looked stupidly up, yet the face was not stupid. 
 Molly questioned her, found she was a German 
 Swiss, that she had a terrible headache, and 
 that her brother, with whom she had come, had 
 gone off to a farm in Connecticut. She showed 
 a letter from a pastor of the canton from which 
 she came, testifying to her respectability and 
 industry, and Molly engaged her, although, from 
 certain indications, she doubted if she was quite 
 clean. She had a grimy frill round her neck, 
 and her skin and hands had an 'unwashed look. 
 
 " Yet, poor soul, landed only a few hours, with 
 a headache and perhaps a heartache, one cannot 
 expect much ; at all events I must risk it, and 
 will not let her take the baby till I see." 
 
 Molly shuddered at the idea of her wholesome, 
 dainty baby being in the arms of any one who 
 was not very clean. 
 
 When she reached home she was amused to 
 see the way Marta eyed the unpromising appear- 
 ance of her new domestic, whose name was Anna. 
 She could but remember her own misgivings 
 when she engaged Marta. 
 
 But before a week passed she found that Anna 
 had a fault Marta never had, she was not 
 clean ; and Molly was puzzled, for the girl was 
 obedient, more than willing, . anxious even, to 
 work. Dirty habits had always, in Molly's ex-
 
 MOLLY EX U AGES A NURSE. 57 
 
 perience hitherto, seemed, if not caused by, at 
 least allied to, laziness. 
 
 " I hardly know what to do about Anna," she 
 said to her neighbor and intimate friend, Mrs. 
 Lennox. " She is quite well educated, far more 
 intelligent than the average of her class, and yet 
 I cannot let her take the baby." 
 
 " I don't think you will have any peace with 
 a dirty girl." 
 
 " No, it seems rather hopeless ; yet there are 
 so many things I like about her, I am inclined 
 to try what I can do with her. Surely, as she 
 appears not to mind work, she would not mind 
 bestowing a little of it on her own person." 
 
 Molly felt almost as much diffidence in ap- 
 proaching the subject as if Anna had been one of 
 her own class. It seemed a very different thing 
 to tell a girl that her dishes were not properly 
 washed, or her sweeping was not thorough, or 
 even to say she had to wear cleaner aprons, from 
 what it was to tell her her hair was dirty though 
 smooth, that her skin was unwashed, and all 
 her belongings needed thorough cleansing. Many 
 a housekeeper knew what all this was, and had 
 had to correct even worse personal habits, but 
 to Molly it was a new experience. So far as it 
 was possible she wished to respect her servants, 
 and to treat them as she herself would wish to be 
 treated, and it was this fellow-feeling that made
 
 58 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 her picture the mortification of the girl. However, 
 it was something she would have to hear if she 
 was to live with any respectable family, and she 
 nerved herself to the task. 
 
 Poor Molly almost wished Anna would do 
 something to make her a little angry ; what she 
 had to say would come easier, for Molly was 
 a bit of a moral coward, as her husband would 
 laughingly tell her. But beyond the chronic 
 frowsiness of Anna's person and the fact that 
 the first time she performed any task it was 
 very ill done (the second much better), she 
 could find no reasonable fault; so she had to 
 begin her objurgation in cold blood. 
 
 She had given the baby its tepid bath, for 
 this was a task she delighted in and always did 
 herself, and the plump little thing was sweet and 
 fresh and dainty as a white flower. 
 
 Anna had been instructed to put every sin- 
 gle article back in its appointed place, to air 
 the little night garments and fold them neatly, 
 but the delicate flannel wrapper was already 
 looking soiled from her handling. 
 
 " Anna," said Molly, gently, " I want to speak 
 to you. Do you notice that, although I engaged 
 you to nurse the baby, I never give her to you ? " 
 
 Anna flushed. "I do notice, ma'am, and I 
 thought perhaps I did not please you." 
 
 The words were spoken timidly, and the girl's 
 face showed her distress.
 
 MOLLY ENGAGES A NURSE. 59 
 
 " The fact is, Anna, you are not clean enough. 
 If you were to carry the baby I should have to 
 change her clothes twice a day." 
 
 " Not clean ! " cried the girl in amazement, 
 and then she pressed both hands on her hair, 
 which was tightly braided, and looked down at 
 her woolen dress, which was without a rent, and 
 patched neatly enough, where worn. 
 
 " I don't believe the poor thing knows what 
 it is to be clean," thought Molly. 
 
 " I know you are tidy enough, but don't you 
 know that you have to wash your clothes and 
 your skin ? I noticed yesterday you took up the 
 ashes in this room and then, without washing 
 your hands, began to strip the baby's cradle, 
 until I reminded you. You must wash your 
 hands after every dirty task that soils them. 
 The white aprons I have given you are soiled 
 almost immediately, not by the work you do, but 
 by your hands and dress. I am not scolding 
 you, but if you leave me you will find the same 
 trouble elsewhere." 
 
 Even as Molly talked she felt a sort of despair 
 of reforming a girl with whom she had to begin 
 by telling her when to wash her hands, and 
 realized after all if even her gown and hands 
 were clean, how little that was when her hair 
 seemed glued with oil and dirt. 
 
 " I always have been thought clean, but I will 
 do anything you tell me, ma'am."
 
 60 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 Tears were in the girl's eyes, and Molly be- 
 lieved she meant what she said. 
 
 " Very well, Anna ; I will help you to change 
 your habits if you will obey. You must have 
 that gown washed and put on your best. I 
 will buy some seersucker for two dresses, and 
 cut and fit them for you. Can you use a sew- 
 ing-machine ? " 
 
 "A little." 
 
 " Very well ; I will show you what you do not 
 know. Your first wages must be spent to get 
 you the proper changes." 
 
 For the next month Molly had to devote 
 much time to Anna. She found the girl quite 
 willing, but unable to realize that once clean she 
 must keep so. A bath taken was something to 
 be repeated only at very long intervals, and she 
 told Molly her hair had never been washed since 
 she was a child because she would take cold. 
 Nevertheless, by degrees she became used to 
 washing her hands, and to the fact that her 
 dress must not be worn till it was black before 
 it was washed. 
 
 Martawas the worst disappointment to Molly 
 at this time. She had looked to her to be good 
 to the stranger, and to help her over the first 
 difficulties, but it was easy to see that Marta 
 despised her utterly. Her dirtiness was per- 
 haps the beginning of this, and the prejudice
 
 MOLLY ENGAGES A NURSE. 61 
 
 once entertained was not to be got rid of ; and 
 long after Molly had ceased to distrust her and 
 she had taken up her duties, Marta found fault, 
 and by reason of her older standing in the family, 
 queened it over her. Yet Molly's own belief 
 was that if she had spent as much time teaching 
 Anna as Marta, the intelligence of the former 
 would have given better results. 
 
 Another reason, perhaps, for Marta's con- 
 tempt for Anna was the discovery soon made 
 that the latter took refuge in a lie as naturally 
 as a duck takes to water. She seemed to expect 
 to be scolded for every trivial fault, and denied 
 it instantly, as a child sure of being whipped 
 might. Sometimes, not to humiliate her, Molly 
 pretended to be unaware of the lie. At others she 
 talked seriously and kindly to her, pointing out 
 that her untruths deceived no one, recalling one 
 or two instances in which she had disbelieved 
 her without saying so, but that they doubled the 
 fault ; reminding her, too, that she would not be 
 scolded for accidents or mistakes ; that even if 
 she had some serious mishaps she would only 
 aggravate the evil by a falsehood. 
 
 " Indeed, Anna, I should be more inclined to 
 send you away for the untruth than the misfor- 
 tune." 
 
 The girl wept bitterly, and assured Mrs. 
 Bishop she should never regret having patience
 
 62 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 with her, that no one had ever been so kind. 
 To Molly, who watched her so closely, it was a 
 very sad proof of the result of severe treatment 
 on a timid nature. The result is almost always 
 deceit. From questions she learned that her 
 mother had been a good, industrious woman who 
 worked in a lace factory, and for years Anna had 
 also done the same work, but that she had pun- 
 ished every small fault. The girl artlessly told 
 this as a proof of her mother's excellence, not as 
 a cruelty to herself. 
 
 There is no gainsaying the fact that Anna was 
 a very unpromising servant, yet she did improve, 
 and Molly had helped herself to be patient by 
 remembering how often a fairly competent ser-' 
 vant will deteriorate, and so she resolved to give 
 this poor, good, willing soul a fair trial. 
 
 One reason stronger than all others with 
 Molly for taking an entirely inexperienced girl 
 for nurse was because she had her own theories 
 about the bringing up of her child, and a nurse 
 who pretended to have experience would be 
 likely to act on that experience covertly, if she 
 did not do so openly. Molly had a strong con- 
 viction, gathered from what she had observed 
 and what she had read, that on the first year of 
 a child's life depends very much more of its 
 character as a child than on the second year. 
 
 Usually mothers think it is early enough to 
 begin training a child when it has passed its first
 
 MOLLY ENGAGES A NURSE. 63 
 
 year, often its second. The cunning little ways 
 that, coming from a midget just able to crawl, 
 are so irresistibly funny, become very naughty 
 tricks when the child is two years old, and one 
 day the poor baby is frowned upon and scolded 
 for actions that have heretofore been laughed at 
 and often followed by rapturous kisses of delight 
 from mamma. But baby's habits have been 
 formed, young as it is, and it has to unlearn, 
 which is a very hard process for grown people, 
 who see the reason for it, but harder for a little, 
 unreasoning being, who only understands that it 
 is being smiled at and loved, or frowned upon 
 and chilled, without knowing why. 
 
 Molly dreaded spoiling her baby. Every 
 one, at first, had predicted that it would be 
 trained to death. There had been a rapid som- 
 ersault of opinion. At first it had been thought 
 that with her ideas of training a baby from the 
 first (those ideas, reader, were newer when 
 Molly's baby was born than they are to-day) she 
 would be a cold, hard mother ; then when they 
 saw how she reveled in her little one, how con- 
 stantly she tended it herself, there was a cer- 
 tainty that it would be spoiled, especially when 
 they neither heard nor saw that the derided 
 " training " was carried beyond the first month. 
 
 Nevertheless, Molly did keep a watch over 
 herself and the little Margaret ; she was careful 
 to discourage her doing anything at six months
 
 64 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 that she would have to check at two years, and 
 so when the baby eyes were caught by glittering 
 ornaments, and the baby hands outstretched for 
 them, the little hands were gently put down. 
 Anna and Marta and even Mr. Bishop thought 
 there could be no harm in indulging baby with 
 unbreakable objects from the mantel, but Molly 
 shook her head. And so it was with tearing 
 books. Anna discovered baby liked nothing so 
 well as to tear paper, and gave it a sheet of 
 newspaper to play with. Molly saw the baby 
 tearing and scattering and delighting in the 
 noise it made, and gently coaxed the sheet away. 
 
 " Oh, but she loves to have it," said Anna 
 when she saw the action. 
 
 " Yes ; but what difference can baby see be- 
 tween the paper it may tear and that which it 
 may not ? and later she will naturally tear every 
 book she can get hold of, and then, poor dar- 
 ling, we should have to scold, and she would cry 
 to do what she has always been allowed to do, 
 would n't you, my precious ? " And then Molly 
 poured out a flood of mother eloquence over the 
 darling, and, as every mother has her own love 
 language, it is of no use to describe Molly's, 
 which was in no sense wiser than any one else's. 
 
 But this was the gist of Molly's training: 
 that prevention was better than cure ; that if 
 the child was not allowed to acquire bad habits, 
 there would be none to cure.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WHY FREDDY STEVENS CRIED. 
 
 IT is not my intention to dwell very long on 
 this sunny part of Molly's life. The clouds that 
 were to darken it later had not yet cast their 
 shadows upon her, and the smooth by-way of 
 perfect happiness is a very uninteresting road to 
 those wayfarers who like the bustle and traffic 
 and excitement of the busy highway of life. 
 
 I will say shortly, therefore, that although 
 Molly was careful to tell herself that from this 
 one child she could not judge others or even an- 
 other, yet so far as this one was concerned she 
 had reason to congratulate herself. By the time 
 it was a year old it was generally conceded that 
 it was a wonderful baby. 
 
 About this time Molly and her husband made 
 a trip to Chicago, and when she emerged the 
 first morning from the sleeper, with the baby 
 dressed and bathed and happy, she was looked 
 upon with curiosity ; and one old gentleman who 
 occupied the section next to hers, said : 
 
 " I congratulate you, madam ; that is the only
 
 66 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 really good baby I ever traveled with. Last 
 night when I saw you were my neighbor I made 
 up my mind to the usual thing, but I never heard 
 the child." 
 
 Molly was far happier than if he had said her 
 baby was the most beautiful he had ever seen, 
 but although she was a very proud young 
 mother at that moment, she concealed her ela- 
 tion and said half apologetically, for there were 
 other babies on board who were by no means 
 quiet : 
 
 " But my baby has nothing to cry for, she is 
 so perfectly well." 
 
 When Harry came to take her to breakfast, 
 she gleefully told him what the old gentleman 
 had said. 
 
 Mr. Bishop, however, seemed to take it as a 
 matter of course. 
 
 " Well, Molly, you knew she was a good baby, 
 did n't you?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I thought so ; but you know every 
 mother thinks her own baby good, and friends 
 agree with her : but this gentleman actually goes 
 out of his way to tell me so, and it is pleasant, 
 I confess." 
 
 An hour or two later a young lady whose baby 
 had fretted very much during the night, and 
 was now only kept quiet by constant change 
 of movement on the nurse's part, came and
 
 WHY FREDDY STEVENS CRIED. 67 
 
 seated herself next to Molly. She looked tired 
 and anxious. 
 
 " Will you excuse me if I ask you what you 
 give your baby to soothe it ? " 
 
 Molly hardly understood the purport of the 
 question at first. When she did, she looked at 
 the weary young mother in horror, which soon 
 changed to pity. 
 
 " I give her nothing ; why should I ? " 
 
 " She was so quiet, I thought you might, and 
 yet she seems so well and bright that if you did, 
 I felt almost inclined to try. My poor baby is 
 so restless and cries so incessantly that I and 
 Mandy are quite worn out, and my husband is 
 almost as bad, for he can't sleep." 
 
 " But there must be some cause. Have you 
 consulted a physician ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; but he says the baby is well, and I 
 suppose it is ; and some say it is good for a baby 
 to cry, but I can't think it; then it annoys 
 other people so terribly. That lady," indicat- 
 ing a fine-looking elderly woman, " tells me it is 
 cruel not to help the dear little thing to sleep, 
 and it does seem so, yet I have heard such 
 dreadful things of soothing syrups and cordials." 
 
 " Oh, I would not dose a child for the world. 
 Drugs must injure the brain ! " 
 
 " Oh, you can't tell what you would do if you 
 had a baby that had cried night and day for ten
 
 68 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 weeks with hardly any intermission, especially if 
 you were not very strong yourself." The young 
 mother moved wearily away, and Molly did 
 wonder what she would do if she were so tried. 
 A little later, seeing the baby on its mother's lap, 
 she went toward her and offered to relieve her. 
 
 The baby was in one of its rare quiet moods, 
 and was certainly not an unhealthy - looking 
 child. It was rather thin, but its skin was mot- 
 tled. It was daintily clothed and evidently 
 well cared for, and yet Molly felt certain that 
 something was wrong about the care. She asked 
 the mother if she thought its food was suffi- 
 ciently nourishing, and was told that the doctor 
 had said so ; she gave it food made of condensed 
 milk and prepared barley, which seemed to agree 
 with it perfectly. At this point the elderly lady 
 came near them. 
 
 " I have been advising this lady to give her 
 baby a little soothing syrup. The child needs 
 rest, and till it gets it, it will not get on." She 
 looked inquiringly at Molly, who would rather 
 have said nothing, and did not answer until 
 directly asked the question ; then she said : 
 
 " I can hardly say what I should do, but one 
 thing I know I never would do, and that is give 
 any kind of drug or cordial to a baby." 
 
 The lady drew her shawl a little closer about 
 her and smiled indulgently.
 
 WHY FREDDY STEVENS CRIED. 69 
 
 " My dear, you have your first child, which 
 happens to be a good one. I am the mother of 
 seven, all robust, strong men. That is my 
 youngest over there," pointing to a very tall, 
 ruddy, broad-shouldered youth, " and I assure 
 you," she said, smiling satirically, " I never al- 
 lowed him to have a restless night when a tea- 
 spoonful of soothing syrup would give him a 
 good one. I have six more such sons, and I 
 firmly believe that soothing syrup saved the 
 lives of two of them in teething ; there is n't a 
 mother in our part of the country can show such 
 a family as mine." 
 
 She looked triumphantly at Molly, who was of 
 course dumb. What could she say she with 
 only her one wee lamb and her convictions 
 against the testimony of this experienced matron 
 who could point to such a robust specimen of 
 human nature as the result of dosing? What 
 she did say in her heart was, " They must indeed 
 have been strong to have survived." 
 
 In spite of herself she could not help think- 
 ing of the poor crying baby and wondering what 
 was wrong. She knew that there were nervous, 
 restless babies that no care could change, but 
 this particular one did not impress her so. The 
 mother,* too, in spite of her weariness, seemed of 
 a placid temperament. 
 
 It chanced that when they reached the hotel
 
 70 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 at which Mr. Bishop intended to stay the young 
 mother and her baby were in the parlor. Later 
 she found their rooms were close together; and 
 all through the night they could hear the wail 
 of the baby, and Molly's heart ached for both 
 mother and child. 
 
 They met on stairs and corridor often for the 
 next day or two, and always stopped to talk of 
 the two babies ; and on the third morning as 
 Molly came from her breakfast she found Mrs. 
 Stevens, the young mother, walking up and 
 down the hall with her infant while the nurse 
 was breakfasting. 
 
 " Won't you come into my room ? I am just 
 going to bathe Meg while Anna goes down." 
 
 " Oh, I would love to do it," said Mrs. Ste- 
 vens. " I wish I had courage to wash Freddy ; 
 I am so afraid I might hurt him." 
 
 " Anna is not experienced or careful enough 
 for me to trust her to bathe Meg, and I prefer 
 to do it, for then I have no uneasiness." 
 
 "Mandy happily is very experienced, so I 
 have no fear ; and then she is devoted to the 
 baby." 
 
 This Molly had observed for herself, and yet 
 she felt Mandy was scarcely the person to be 
 left to bathe an infant. 
 
 " Why don't you take courage and bathe him 
 yourself, since you wish to do it. It is really only 
 the first time you need dread."
 
 WHY FREDDY STEVENS CRIED. 71 
 
 
 
 Mrs. Stevens hesitated. " I wish I could, but 
 Mandy would be hurt, and might be a little 
 sulky, and I am sure I should be so scared the 
 first time that I could not do it without assist- 
 ance." 
 
 " Suppose you do it right now," said Molly, 
 smiling. " Meg is very comfortable, and you 
 use her water." 
 
 Meg was on the floor, rolling in perfect con- 
 tent, with a bunch of keys which always seemed 
 more fascinating than the orthodox rattle. " If 
 Mandy had to leave you for a day, or were ill, 
 you would be glad to have taken the first step 
 or I will bathe it to-day, and you come here to- 
 morrow." 
 
 Mrs. Stevens accepted the offer, and the baby 
 was undressed, Molly admiring the exquisite 
 quality of the little garments as they were re- 
 moved, and their dainty make. 
 
 As it lay undressed, she saw the child was 
 well formed and seemingly very healthy. It 
 had cried of course during the whole process of 
 undressing, and now as Molly, with rolled-up 
 sleeve, was about to lay the tiny little form with 
 her hand under its body, the head supported by 
 her arm, in the water, the child raised its arms, 
 and Molly uttered an exclamation : the arm-pits 
 were entirely raw ! 
 
 " Oh, the poor darling ! No wonder it cried."
 
 72 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 Further investigation showed that wherever 
 two fleshy parts came together they were denuded 
 of skin, and the flesh was angry and shining. 
 Molly could hardly believe that since the baby 
 had been in Mandy's care, water had ever been 
 used to the crevices of the child's body. 
 
 The poor, shocked mother wept bitter tears to 
 think how her darling must have suffered. 
 
 " Oh, how cruel Mandy was," she said, kissing 
 the poor little limbs. 
 
 " I don't think she has intended to neglect it ; 
 probably she has barely noticed in washing the 
 chafed spots, or has thought a little powder would 
 set it right, but " 
 
 Molly carefully washed the spots with warm 
 water into which she had put a pinch of borax, 
 dabbing the excoriated flesh with the child's own 
 face-sponge, and drying it with soft old linen. 
 She had meanwhile told the mother to take a 
 half teaspoonful of powdered borax and rub it 
 with the bowl of a teaspoon on paper till it was 
 as fine and smooth as possible, then to mix it 
 with three teaspoonfuls of talcum, and powder 
 the child with it. 
 
 The child screamed through the whole process, 
 but when it was over and Mrs. Stevens took it 
 from Molly, without waiting for food, it fell 
 asleep. 
 
 " Oh, what can I say to you and for myself ?
 
 WHY FREDDY STEVENS CRIED. 73 
 
 But I had examined its neck and did not find 
 any sign of chafing, and thought if it was neg- 
 lected I should see it there. You must think 
 me a heartless mother, and yet I dearly love my 
 baby." 
 
 "Of course you do, and I might have been 
 no wiser with my own had I not heard a story 
 of a nurse's neglect when I was a child, and 
 knew ever after that the chafing of the skin was 
 one of the very chief things to guard against." 
 
 " What would you advise me to do now?" 
 
 " I shall be here three or four days longer, 
 and if you wish I will bathe the baby to-night 
 and to-morrow ; then I will be by you the first 
 two times you do it yourself. I would certainly 
 bathe it twice a day during this warm weather." 
 
 " I will do anything ! How long do you 
 think it will take to heal ? " 
 
 " Oh, a very short time, I am sure, with such 
 attention as you will give it ; but I think in case 
 the talc does not agree with its skin that I 
 would get some Lycopodium, and use that in its 
 place." 
 
 When Mrs. Bishop left Chicago she left one 
 grateful friend there and one bitter enemy. 
 Mandy angrily resented the " meddlesomeness " 
 which had betrayed her own unfitness for her 
 place. But Molly's adventures with tiny Meg 
 were not at an end. On the return journey the
 
 74 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 happy baby excited much comment and some 
 sneers. It was rather singular, but Molly found 
 a quiet baby was as much sneered at as a blue 
 stocking used to be. One incident that tickled 
 Harry's sense of fun hugely was the remark of 
 a grave old lady, who said : 
 
 " Does n't that child ever cry ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, indeed she does. If she 's uncom- 
 fortable she lets us know it ; but then we try to 
 keep her very comfortable, so her crying is not 
 very frequent." 
 
 " Well, I dare say you 're very proud of hav- 
 ing a good baby, but mark my words that child 
 will have no lungs ! If I had a baby who did n't 
 cry its full share I should make it. What sort 
 of a chest will it have ? " 
 
 In speaking of this journey of Molly's I have 
 somewhat anticipated. In her inexperience she 
 had dreaded the weaning of little Meg, and 
 again Mrs. Lennox had come to her aid. 
 
 " My dear, just before my first baby was born 
 I read in " Scribner's Magazine " an article on 
 weaning babies, which helped me to form a plan 
 of my own. I will look it up, and you will per- 
 haps be able to adapt the rules to your needs. 
 I am certain of one thing, and that is, that the 
 idea of gradually preparing the child to be weaned 
 is a good one. As to the literal carrying out of 
 the details, every mother must be guided by her 
 own sense and circumstances."
 
 WHY FREDDY STEVENS CRIED. 75 
 
 This conversation took place when Meg was 
 six months old, and already for several weeks 
 Molly had given her a teaspoonful of the bowl 
 of oatmeal gruel which she herself took at eleven 
 each morning (for the baby's benefit), watching 
 very keenly the first day or two the effect the 
 food had on its bowels ; but this was in every 
 way good with Meg, who needed laxative food, 
 although with many children the oatmeal might 
 have been unsafe. Molly's object, however, was 
 to familiarize the child with the use of a spoon, 
 so that when feeding became necessary, a bottle 
 need not be used. 
 
 She read the article that Mrs. Lennox had 
 given her, and such parts of it as applied strictly 
 to weaning she marked for her -own guidance. 
 They were as follows : 
 
 " Many mothers put off the necessity of wean- 
 ing the baby, yet are sadly conscious that they 
 neglect a duty to themselves and the child by 
 putting off the evil hour, the mother-heart 
 shrinking from what she feels must be pain to 
 her darling. With tender prescience she sees 
 the week of weeping and baby agony she will 
 have to encounter. And so time goes on, and 
 the child, who should have been weaned at be- 
 tween nine and twelve months, is unweaned at 
 fifteen ; indeed, among working women I have 
 known them to be unweaned at two years!
 
 76 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 " Of course there are babies and babies it 
 may not be possible to prescribe a rule for all 
 cases ; the best age for weaning baby may come 
 just as it is suffering from some infant trouble, in 
 very hot weather, on the eve of a journey, a 
 dozen things, in short, may make it advisable to 
 defer the time ; but for healthy children there 
 is no age at which weaning is so easy to mother 
 and child as from nine to twelve months of age, 
 and the later it is after such age the more diffi- 
 cult. 
 
 " Yet need it be such a painful time ? I 
 think not. I know that in the case of a healthy 
 baby accustomed to being nursed at regular 
 hours, there actually need be no trial to the 
 child, provided the mother has patience and firm- 
 ness not even a tear. Foolishly fond mothers, 
 who have used nature's food as a solace for 
 every woe, will not perhaps find a tearless wean- 
 ing possible ; but I write for those tenderly wise 
 ones who have observed as regular hours for 
 baby's meals as for their own ; or for those 
 about to become mothers. To these last I would 
 say: As you value your baby's health and com- 
 fort, your husband's ease, and your own nerves, 
 begin with the first day and accustom the baby 
 to nurse only at certain hours. 
 
 " A newly born baby will require food oftener 
 than when older; but constitutions differ so
 
 WHY FREDDY STEVENS CRIED. 77 
 
 much that it is best to consult your doctor as to 
 the number of meals it will require during the 
 day, and then adhere strictly to his rules. This 
 point is so often neglected, or the necessity for 
 some rule for feeding being acknowledged, it is 
 so often considered time enough to begin ' when 
 baby gets older,' when it is a difficult matter 
 to break habits formed, that for the sake of 
 mother and child it cannot be too strongly urged. 
 Physicians say, half the colicky babies are made 
 so during the first month of their life, by the 
 old school of monthly nurses or foolish mothers 
 overfeeding them, or keeping them so warm that 
 every breath of fresh air afterwards chills them. 
 " As the child gets older, gradually diminish 
 the number of meals, letting it, however, take as 
 much food as it cares for at each one, until at 
 six months it has but four meals during the day 
 from its mother and one at night. At that age 
 it is well to begin feeding with a little oatmeal 
 porridge or prepared barley food ; begin with a 
 teaspoonful, gradually increasing the quantity 
 till at nine months or thereabouts it will take a 
 hearty meal of it. Of course every mother must 
 be guided by the constitution of her child in the 
 choice of food ; for one child will starve on what 
 another will thrive on ; but avoid feeding en- 
 tirely, or even principally, on cornstarch. The 
 best hour for giving this extra food will also de-
 
 78 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 pend on circumstances. A good plan is to nurse 
 the baby at eight A. M. and at noon, at four and 
 at seven p. M. ; and at 10 A. M. give the oatmeal 
 or barley gruel. The first step in weaning will be 
 to break off one meal. The four-o'clock meal is 
 the best to wean from first ; when the baby comes 
 in from its airing a cup of warm food may be 
 ready for it. It is well, if convenient, for the 
 mother to disappear the first time the substitu- 
 tion is made. Wait a week before weaning from 
 a second meal ; then break off the noon nursing 
 in the same way, having the food quite ready 
 when baby comes in hungry. In mild weather, 
 the young child should be out every sunny hour 
 of the day ; modern carriages enable it to sleep 
 as restfully as in bed. Let it get quite used to 
 this change before proceeding to another. The 
 weaning from the evening meal it is best to 
 leave till last. When it becomes time for this, 
 give simply as much warm new milk as the child 
 cares to take, then put it to bed as usual. There 
 is now but the night nursing left. This may be 
 broken off by giving a cup of warm milk the 
 moment it wakes, for a few nights, gradually de- 
 creasing the quantity till it will no longer wake 
 for it, but sleep till morning, when it is well to 
 give it as much milk as it wants. This may 
 seem a slow and tedious plan in the telling, but 
 it is not so in practice ; to a tender-hearted
 
 WHY FREDDY STEVENS CRIED. 79 
 
 mother it is at all events preferable to the week 
 of tears and struggles that follows weaning by 
 the short and sharp method. 
 
 " One word more about feeding the baby. By 
 giving its meals at certain hours and those only, 
 one meal has time to digest before another is 
 taken. You thus avoid a fruitful cause of colic. 
 A baby, too, who is fed regularly only craves 
 food at certain times, and then it will take a 
 hearty satisfying meal, while one nursed every 
 half hour is ever craving and restless ; its stom- 
 ach cannot digest the food so constantly intro- 
 duced, and crying, wakefulness, and general 
 misery are the result."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LITTLE JOHN ARRIVES. CLOUDS ON MOLLY'S 
 HORIZON. MOLLY A WIDOW. 
 
 MEG was nearly three years old when Molly's 
 second baby was born, a boy this time, much to 
 Mr. Bishop's delight, and at first to Meg's dis- 
 gust. She felt that her nose was put sadly out 
 of joint by the new-comer, and when she saw 
 the baby lying by her mother, she quickly turned 
 her back and could not be made to look at it 
 again. 
 
 " Why, Meg ! " said Mrs. Welles, " won't you 
 look at your little brother ? " 
 
 But Meg persistently turned the back of her 
 curly head to the bed. 
 
 " What shall we do with little brother, then, 
 Meg ? " 
 
 " Put him in the coal - scuttle ! " came deci- 
 sively from the baby lips. 
 
 Molly was distressed at her darling's jealousy, 
 but it did not last long. She ran to hide her 
 face in her aunt Charlotte's lap (she called Mrs. 
 Welles aunt), but gradually began to take sur-
 
 LITTLE JOHN ARRIVES. 81 
 
 reptitious peeps when no longer invited to do so, 
 and very soon she had toddled to the bedside. 
 Molly showed the tiny pink hand and nails, and 
 then Meg suddenly ran away. She soon reap- 
 peared, dragging all her own best raiment after 
 her, and a pair of scarlet gloves, that were her 
 delight, in her hand. 
 
 She struggled to the bedside, clutching the 
 dainty white silk coat trimmed with fur, that 
 had been her grandmother's Christmas gift, close 
 to her, and the Normandy bonnet was trailing 
 on the floor behind her. 
 
 " Bless her heart ! " cried Mrs. Welles, start- 
 ing to the rescue. " She is bringing her choic- 
 est for her brother." 
 
 And so she was ; for fine as the coat and bon- 
 net were, the gloves were the last purchase, and 
 dearer to her than anything ; the other things 
 were forgotten as soon as she was relieved of 
 them, but she darted to the bed with the gloves, 
 and put one on the little screwed-up ball of a 
 fist, saying as she did so, very gravely, " He shall 
 have my carlat gubs." After this there was no 
 trouble ; Meg seemed to think the baby was a 
 larger sort of doll prepared for her amusement, 
 and when Molly came down-stairs it was diffi- 
 cult to convince her that she could not have it to 
 carry round and play with. 
 
 Little John, as they named the new baby, was
 
 82 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 a baby without a history. Happy the nations, 
 women, and babies who are so ! It was almost 
 exasperating too, for it disappointed many who 
 had looked to this second baby to refute some of 
 Molly's ways. Mrs. Bishop senior fell back on 
 her son's constitution and temperament again to 
 account for babies that persistently throve in the 
 absence of sufficient food, or any proper medi- 
 cine, or, in fact, bringing up of any kind. Molly 
 herself had expected a totally different experi- 
 ence with this baby, knowing well how children 
 differ ; but except as months went on she found 
 the difference in temperament between boy and 
 girl was very strongly marked, there was not 
 much for her to change in the bringing up of the 
 two. Exactly as Meg had been about food, so 
 was this child. He slept much less, but he was 
 happy and good when awake, and nothing de- 
 lighted him more than his bath, to which Meg 
 had never taken kindly, until old enough to 
 stand up in it and make fun for herself. 
 
 Molly thought she had so many blessings, that 
 at times she had a fear there would be some 
 drawback. And when this second baby came, so 
 healthy, and good, and she herself so well, she 
 wondered if she was to be exempt from all the 
 trials that beset so many women and what she 
 had done to deserve a happiness that seemed so 
 serene. We who know her recognize that she
 
 CLOUDS ON MOLLY'S HORIZON. 83 
 
 might easily have created a few miseries for her- 
 self, had her nature been less wholesome. But 
 of late she was troubled with a vague uneasiness. 
 Her husband had changed very much. He who 
 was once so gay and pleasure-loving, now had 
 been gradually becoming more and more ab- 
 sorbed in business. Molly was a brave wife and 
 told herself that she could not expect her hus- 
 band to differ from the generality of men who 
 settled down into business harness. She had 
 hitherto in her mind's eye seen herself and 
 Harry going down life's hill, happy and merry 
 as they were now. She had determined for her 
 own part to make no artificial troubles ; so she 
 resolved to say nothing of his changed manner, 
 to cheer him when she could, and when he pre- 
 ferred to bury himself in his newspaper, to leave 
 her own wish to talk, or do anything else, unut- 
 tered. 
 
 But as months went on her own gay manner 
 changed insensibly, for Harry grew every day 
 more preoccupied and was almost morose at 
 times. His happy laugh or hearty kiss for Meg 
 at the gate was no longer the first intimation she 
 had of his evening home coming. He passed 
 both Meg and little John, whom once he had 
 always brought into the house on his shoulders, 
 with an absent-minded caress, and as they clung 
 to his legs or fingers, he scarcely seemed to
 
 84 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 know they were there as he quietly entered the 
 house and mechanically kissed Molly. Some- 
 times he would speak impatiently, almost crossly, 
 but then immediately he would gather the one 
 so spoken to, Molly or Meg, in his arms, and say 
 some tender, remorseful word that would show 
 poor Molly that his love was the same. Anx- 
 iously she would search his face sometimes, and 
 once or twice she had asked him if he was wor- 
 ried or had any trouble. 
 
 " My dear, business men always are worried 
 at times. I am no worse off than any other ; but 
 you must not trouble your little head with my 
 glumness. Every man who goes on the cars 
 with me is as glum as an oyster ; that is, if he 
 is not one of the irresponsible men of business 
 who live by making other business men believe 
 they are swimming in very smooth water." 
 
 " But you are so unlike yourself, Harry, I 
 can't help worrying about you." 
 
 " Then you must not Molly. These are very 
 serious times, and my father's health is so im- 
 paired that I have almost more than I can at- 
 tend to. Don't look so anxious, dear; come, 
 let 's say ' begone dull care ' and send it to the 
 dogs. I do need something to shake me up ; 
 come to New York this afternoon, Booth is 
 playing Hamlet." 
 
 Very gladly Molly agreed to go, hoping Harry
 
 CLOUDS ON MOLLY'S HORIZON. 85 
 
 might throw off his raoodiness, and for that night 
 they enjoyed themselves. It did seem like old 
 times when Harry made jokes in the cars as they 
 came home, and for a day or two Molly flat- 
 tered herself that he was regaining his old light- 
 heartedness ; but then she found reason to fear 
 that it was assumed for her benefit. She had 
 long suspected he did not sleep so soundly at 
 night as he pretended, that while she slumbered 
 he lay awake ; and when this suspicion became 
 pronounced, her own sleep was very light, and 
 she found he did lie awake for hours, and when 
 he slept it was an uneasy, dreamy sleep with 
 broken utterances that were all figures and busi- 
 ness terms. 
 
 She felt sure now that he had troubles he 
 kept from her. She spoke to him about their 
 expenditure. 
 
 " Harry, let me know if we are spending too 
 much money. You know we can always go 
 back to our old limit, or half of it. Nurse is no 
 absolute necessity, and in these hard times " 
 
 Harry burst into laughter, yet not the old 
 hearty, happy laughter ; there was a sort of grim 
 bitterness in it which wrung Molly's heart. 
 
 " My dear, do you know that my father spends 
 $20,000 a year ? my mother would not dream of 
 living on less. Now, I have only a fifth share in 
 our business ; we spend less than half my income,
 
 86 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 but you can see for yourself that in so large a 
 business, even if we saved a thousand dollars 
 more a year, it would make no material differ- 
 ence. No, dear Molly, the few poor little hun- 
 dreds that make the difference between hard 
 work and ease for you would only be a drop in 
 the ocean. Don't worry, dear, we are doing 
 right ; if there is any worry, leave it to me." 
 " But, Harry, if there is worry let me share it." 
 He kissed her very tenderly, and told her, 
 business men had always worries. " When 
 there is any use in worrying you, dear, you shall 
 have your share ; but if a man in business were 
 to tell his wife all that he has to think of, she 
 would be frightened at possible issues, and he 
 would be unnerved." 
 
 Molly could not agree with him, but neither 
 would she argue ; she knew she could not make 
 her husband see with her eyes, and she allowed 
 him to think that he had reassured her ; but 
 so far from doing so, she now felt certain that 
 he kept some trouble from her. It seemed the 
 wildest nonsense, only to be conjured up in a 
 fanciful woman's brain, to fear that the old firm 
 of Bishop, Whitehead & Bishop could be in 
 difficulties. No, that she did not fear. Harry's 
 father was a business man of the old school, 
 cautious and conservative. Mr. Whitehead in- 
 terfered very little, and the business had flour- 
 ished for fifty years.
 
 CLOUDS ON MOLLY'S HORIZON. 87 
 
 One thing might have accounted for Harry's 
 changed manner, and that was his father's fail- 
 ing health, only that for two years past Mr. 
 Bishop's share of the office work had devolved 
 on his son, and had seemed to cause very little 
 anxiety. There had later come a fear of soften- 
 ing of the brain, and the physicians had ordered 
 him to travel, so as to be entirely away from 
 business. 
 
 The old gentleman had decided to go to the 
 wheat states, and to California. He had been 
 absent six months, and the last few weeks he had 
 been in Chicago. Mrs. Bishop sent her son 
 encouraging accounts of his health, and these 
 letters he passed over to Molly. 
 
 She thought and thought, haunted by a pre- 
 sentiment of evil, but not knowing where to look 
 for the blow to come from. In this trouble she 
 could have no confidant, or comfort ; not even to 
 Mrs. Welles could she tell her anxieties. The 
 latter saw the change in her blithe friend and 
 wondered at it. But at this time she was not 
 quite so observant as usual, for after six years 
 of married life she was preparing baby clothes. 
 
 In one sense this was not only a joy to herself 
 but a blessing to Molly, who entered with some- 
 thing of her old enthusiasm into her friend's 
 hopes. Little John could now walk, and he and 
 Meg would trot with Molly on the warm, bright
 
 88 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 days to Mrs. Welles's piazza. Annie, who was 
 an excellent seamstress, was thus free to make 
 up the little garments which Molly cut and 
 fitted for her. 
 
 Molly's children, by the way, were noticeably 
 well dressed, with less trouble, perhaps, to mother, 
 nurse, or laundress than most children in the 
 same position. 
 
 Molly eschewed ruffles, and put the extra 
 goods that they would take into the quality, so 
 she had fine cambric frocks at about the same 
 cost as coarse. The clothes were all simply 
 made but most beautifully fitted ; and Molly was 
 an eager watcher for picturesque patterns, such 
 as were pretty without regard to the fashion, 
 which a great authority says is the true test of 
 beauty in clothes; then they were very neatly 
 sewed and finished ; where there was embroidery 
 or lace, it was small in quantity and fine in quality. 
 
 Mrs. Welles frankly told Molly that her baby 
 was to be a good old-fashioned one. It should 
 not be dosed, but she intended to rock it to sleep 
 and let it feed when it liked. " That 's the way 
 I was brought up, and although your darlings 
 are models, I still think, my dear, they have 
 your own sweet, contented nature, and would have 
 been so anyhow ; they are of the placid kind." 
 
 " Do you call John placid? " 
 
 " No, but he is a boy ; he is good, but there
 
 THE WAYS OF BABIES. 89 
 
 seems a good deal of the natural Adam in him, 
 I confess." 
 
 Molly smiled ; perhaps she alone knew how 
 much of that natural Adam there was latent in 
 her boy, how closely she was watching him, and 
 checking the first little tendency to fault, before 
 it became a fault. A raised finger, a grave look 
 now, would save graver punishment later. But 
 all this little motherly strategy could not be ex- 
 plained, it could only be observed by one inter- 
 ested in noticing closely. She remembered one 
 indignant young mother who had said : 
 
 " That just maddens me, people say, ' Oh, 
 but your child has such a lovely disposition, you 
 can't judge of other children by that one ! ' As 
 if its disposition was n't human, and as if I 
 had n't been watching like a lynx to repress its 
 little bad ways and encourage its good ones ; 
 and then when he does n't cry for the moon, and 
 is a happy cherub as babies were meant to be, 
 I am told it 's all owing to his own placid 
 nature ! " 
 
 Molly was by no means angry about it, as 
 was her young friend, but she was quietly 
 amused. 
 
 " I foresee, Charlotte, you are going to intro- 
 duce a small Moloch and sacrifice yourself on its 
 altar." 
 
 " I am willing ; but, my dear Molly, if my baby
 
 90 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 should be a tyrant it will only show the natural 
 depravity of some infants." 
 
 The conversation was carried on laughingly. 
 Mrs. Welles's good-humor was rarely ruffled, 
 and Molly really believed her warm-hearted 
 friend would enjoy lavishing herself upon an 
 outrageous baby. And so the event proved. 
 
 Never was a child endowed with such lungs, 
 and such power of gaining its will with them, as 
 little Lois Welles. Before it was three months 
 old it had learned to cry for everything it craved, 
 but as there seemed only two things that what 
 Harry called the little "Mollusk" can crave at 
 that age, its mother's arms and its mother's 
 food, and its mother delighted in satisfying it, 
 there was no difficulty. Mrs. Welles showed 
 her fine white teeth with her heartiest laugh 
 when the impatient baby resented even a mo- 
 ment's delay in satisfying it, by making itself 
 rigid from head to heel, and lifting its body into 
 a small arc, and knocking its own poor little 
 nose with its fists in its rage. 
 
 " Did you ever see such a spirited little thing. 
 I know you 're shocked, Molly, but I love its an- 
 tics, and so does Cuthbert. (Cuthbert was Mr. 
 Welles's name.) It is so deliciously absurd to 
 see such a helpless mite in a rage ! " 
 
 Molly was n't a bit shocked. 
 
 Mrs. Welles was a woman of large means,
 
 MRS. WELLES. 91 
 
 perfect in health, and of the sweet, easy-going 
 temperament that half-a-dozen spoilt children 
 would not have worried, although they might 
 have wearied her. Mr. Welles might, if there 
 should be a second child that exacted all its 
 mother's time, feel some right to it himself, but 
 at present he was absorbed in watching the* 
 growth and development of this one, and if the 
 development was in the direction of temper it 
 was but the more amusing. 
 
 As I have said, considering Mrs. Welles's 
 health, temperament, and financial position, Molly 
 was not shocked nor worried for her. She did 
 not by any means think that spoilt babies or 
 spoilt children made bad men and women, pro- 
 vided the spoiling did not extend to weak indul- 
 gence toward any moral laxity. Although still 
 a young woman, Molly had lived long enough to 
 see children whose parents and friends had been 
 martyrs, of whose future terrible predictions 
 had been made, grow out of their faults and 
 make particularly nice boys and girls, and she 
 had no fear for Mrs. Welles's children. She 
 knew her friend would indulge them in every- 
 thing that called only on her own or her servants' 
 patience, but when it came to the formation of 
 their character she would carefully watch them, 
 and be firm enough in checking any evil ten- 
 dency. She herself did not care to be a mar-
 
 92 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 tyr for the first years of her children's life. 
 And had Mrs. Welles been a woman with many 
 of life's burdens, it would have troubled Molly 
 to see her deliberately creating fresh ones, which 
 would wear her life away ; but Charlotte Welles 
 being what she was, situated as she was, she was 
 amused to see her gleeful motherhood. 
 
 Her own children were a great solace to poor 
 Molly in these days, for as months went by 
 Harry's mood did not change ; or, rather, he did 
 have spells of more than his old gayety, but they 
 did not deceive his loving wife. She guessed 
 too truly that it was put on for her benefit. 
 
 She was so preoccupied that she did not ob- 
 serve Charlotte's anxious look at her one day 
 that she tore herself away from the absorbing 
 Lois. Mrs. Welles's visit was consequent on a 
 conversation which had passed between herself 
 and husband the evening before. 
 
 "I'm afraid Bishop, Whitehead & Bishop 
 are in serious trouble," said Cuthbert, " and that 
 accounts for Harry's changed ways. I have 
 feared it some time." 
 
 " What do you mean ? You can't mean they 
 are about to fail ? I thought it was considered 
 one of the most stable firms in this country ! " 
 cried Charlotte. 
 
 " So it is, or was ; but a madman can swamp 
 the stoutest ship if he bores a hole in it, and
 
 BUSINESS TROUBLES. 93 
 
 old Bishop's brain was giving way a year ago. 
 He ought never to have been in a position since 
 to sign the firm name, but I expect, though he 
 got physically better on his travels, he has men- 
 tally broken down. His pompous fool of a 
 wife has n't enough brain herself to see it, so he 
 has been practically unchecked." 
 
 "But tell me quickly what has happened. 
 Think of dear Molly." 
 
 " Nothing has happened, and I trust nothing 
 may. Young Bishop is a power and may suc- 
 ceed in keeping the firm afloat, but the fact is, 
 for some time past it has been known that the 
 old man has been speculating in wheat. This 
 surprised every one who knew the traditions of 
 the firm, and there came heavy losses ; nothing, 
 however, very serious until to-day, when there is 
 a report that old Mr. Bishop has bought enor- 
 mously of wheat, for a rise. Those Chicago 
 fellows have got hold of him, and as he has re- 
 cently been over the wheat-growing districts, I 
 suppose he thought himself a match for them ; 
 at all events, there is a tremendous fall in wheat, 
 and it is said that a million will not cover the 
 Bishops' loss." 
 
 Charlotte turned pale as she listened. 
 
 " Poor Molly ! poor, dear Molly ! " she said ; 
 " she has looked so anxious lately that I fear she 
 has not been without suspicion of coming trouble.
 
 94 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 What a shame it seems that people who have 
 lived so wisely and so simply should have 
 trouble of this kind ! " 
 
 " Can't be helped, my dear ; it would have 
 been just the same if Harry and Molly had 
 taken all the comfort of their means, for they 
 are not the people to save anything out of the 
 wreck." 
 
 " Oh dear, I do wish Molly had consented to 
 have the pony carriage Harry wanted to buy 
 her." 
 
 " If I know Molly she will be glad she did 
 not," said Mr. Welles ; " it would make no dif- 
 ference to the result, but she will take comfort 
 that she denied herself the luxury. If, as you 
 think, she has seen the blow coming, it may be 
 better, for it will fall less suddenly ; and after 
 all," he said more cheerfully, seeing his wife's 
 pained face, " it may all blow over, and if it 
 does I hope Harry will put a stop to his father's 
 folly without scruple." 
 
 But alas for our friends ! The storm did not 
 blow over Bishop, Whitehead & Bishop failed ; 
 and then it was that Molly learned what Harry 
 had hoped it might never be necessary for her 
 to know, the terrible load of anxiety he had had 
 to bear, and the efforts he had been called upon 
 to make to avert the catastrophe, if possible, or 
 be ready to meet it if it must come ; but a folly
 
 BUSINESS TROUBLES. 95 
 
 greater than even he could foresee or anticipate 
 had brought all his efforts to nothing. He 
 knew that he had himself greatly to blame, for 
 if he had persuaded Mr. Whitehead to join 
 him they might perhaps have deprived the head 
 of the firm of the power to ruin them ; but 
 what son could so act against his father ? who, 
 after all, exhibited no other trace of softening 
 of the brain than his loss of business judgment, 
 and a total reversal of all his former business 
 methods, and adoption of those which, after 
 all, were the methods of many men in full pos- 
 session of their wits. 
 
 He had not been able to bring himself to 
 depose his father in this way. He had written 
 to his mother to exercise her influence, but she 
 wrote back that Mr. Bishop resented any inter- 
 ference in his business, and he would neither 
 tell her anything nor listen to her. 
 
 Harry then wrote to his father entreating him 
 to return to New York, alleging that he could 
 not possibly manage without him ; but Mr. Bishop 
 was obstinate if nothing else, and told his son 
 he must call Whitehead to his aid. Mr. White- 
 head's father had at one time been the mainstay 
 of the business. His son gave very little more 
 than his name ; he was generally away with his 
 yacht, and no one would have spurned the idea 
 of his being of any utility in the business more
 
 96 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 readily than Mr. Bishop when his mind was in 
 its normal condition. 
 
 As not unfrequently happens, after the blow 
 had fallen and ruin could no longer be averted, 
 Harry Bishop seemed easier in mind. He had 
 broken the bad news to Molly, and had found 
 her, as he knew he would, brave and sympa- 
 thetic, only reproaching him that he had kept 
 his anxieties from her. 
 
 "You must promise, Harry, never to do that 
 again. No matter what dreadful thing you fear, 
 nothing can be so dreadful to me as to be left 
 out of your confidence." 
 
 " It was for your sake, Molly dear." 
 
 " I know, but it saved me nothing ; I worried 
 just as much, for I knew you were in trouble." 
 
 " Well, dear, I promise I will share all 
 trouble with you in future ; but we hope that 
 the worst has happened, for another year such as 
 the last would make an old man of me." 
 
 But that night he slept profoundly, the first 
 time in months. 
 
 Poor Molly ! Poor Harry ! 
 
 Of course nothing but the fact that the firm 
 had failed was known for a few days. Not even 
 Harry could tell whether anything could honor- 
 ably be saved from the wreck or not. He worked 
 harder than ever, staying at the office till very 
 late, coming home on the owl train three or four 
 times a week.
 
 PREMONITION. 97 
 
 Molly tried to hope that as soon as he could 
 settle up affairs he would have no difficulty in 
 finding a position as bookkeeper in some large 
 firm. He himself expressed no anxiety on that 
 account, but he was very much troubled, when 
 he had time to think of anything, about the 
 future of his father and mother. How would 
 they live ? His mother had no idea of the pos- 
 sibility of doing without anything that money 
 could buy. 
 
 One morning he came down to breakfast 
 looking rather more rested than usual. He 
 stooped and lifted little John who had toddled 
 forward with Meg for the morning greeting. 
 He put him down suddenly without the expected 
 toss and kiss, and the boy's big blue eyes gazed 
 wondering at his father. But Harry had uttered 
 a slight exclamation of pain that attracted 
 Molly's attention. 
 
 "What is the matter, Harry? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing," he said, smiling ; " what you 
 women call a * stitch,' I suppose, only it is in my 
 shoulder." He put his hand just below the col- 
 lar-bone to indicate the spot, and said cheerily : 
 " It 's too sharp to last ; pour out coffee, Molly, 
 for I must not lose my train, and this pain hin- 
 dered my shaving. Don't be uneasy, dear, it is 
 too sudden to be anything but muscular." 
 
 Molly handed his coffee and he broke his egg,
 
 98 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 but the pain increased every second ; every 
 breath he drew went like a knife through his 
 lungs. 
 
 " Dear Harry, let me send for Doctor Price." 
 
 " But, my dear, I am quite well ! I felt in 
 unusually good spirits when I got up." 
 
 But every breath was pain, and Molly said 
 nothing but slipped from the room and returned 
 in five minutes with a mustard plaster. Harry 
 still sat with his egg chipped but untouched; 
 his coffee he had partly drank, but he was lis- 
 tening with his usual good-natured smile to 
 Meg's grave prattle. His hand was held to his 
 shoulder. He laughed when he saw Molly with 
 her warm plate and the poultice upon it. 
 
 " You are determined I am to be an invalid, 
 dear. I am sorry to disappoint you, but I can- 
 not help it. I have lost this train, I suppose, but 
 I really must take the next." 
 
 " Very well, but you have half an hour at 
 home ; now let me put the poultice on, it cannot 
 do any harm, and may, if the pain is rheuma- 
 tism, cure you. You can eat your breakfast mean- 
 while, and I will prepare some cotton batting to 
 prevent your taking cold if you must go to the 
 office to-day." 
 
 " Must go ! my dear Molly, I must go, if I 
 have to be carried there, to-day of all days ; but 
 I will have the plaster if you say I must."
 
 THE DOCTOR SUMMONED. 99 
 
 He was so well, so unconscious of other ail- 
 ment, although evidently suffering, that Molly's 
 fears began to subside. It must be something as 
 purely local as toothache. 
 
 But when the time came to start for the next 
 train, Harry was on the lounge, the mustard 
 plaster had not reddened the skin, and the pain 
 was still sharper with every breath he drew. 
 
 " Now, Harry, I will send for Doctor Price." 
 
 "Yes, do. He must give me something or 
 other to kill this, and get me down town to-day." 
 
 Molly flew to the kitchen and told Marta to 
 run for the doctor. She had taken the precau- 
 tion to bid her be ready before. When she 
 returned to the parlor Harry had changed con- 
 siderably. 
 
 " Give me a blanket, Molly, I am shivering, 
 yet it is not cold," he said, as she entered. 
 
 Molly knew the chill meant illness, but she 
 said not a word. She covered Harry up, went 
 out and sent Anna up to prepare the bed for 
 Harry, looked to the rubber hot-water bottle, 
 and then returned to the children. To Meg she 
 had given her oatmeal and milk as soon as her 
 father's coffee was passed, and John had been 
 given a crust of bread until Anna should be 
 ready to attend to him ; but the unexpected sur- 
 prise had scared Anna and Molly so that little 
 Johnny's breakfast was forgotten, yet he sat with
 
 100 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 perfect contentment, mumbling his crust. The 
 moment he saw his own porridge, however, down 
 the crust went, and he reached and jabbered for 
 his breakfast. Molly quietly fed him, her heart 
 heavier than lead, her eyes filling in spite of 
 every effort at self-control. Stealthily she brushed 
 the tears away, for fear Meg might see them and 
 exclaim, and Harry must not guess her anxiety. 
 
 When the doctor arrived she sent the children 
 away, and then stood behind Harry's head that 
 she might watch the doctor's face unseen by her 
 husband. 
 
 But it revealed little. He asked if he had 
 taken cold ? " No." Had he been conscious of 
 cough, or oppression of the chest ? " No." 
 
 Harry answered the questions readily, assured 
 the doctor that now the chill was over he felt 
 well, quite well enough to go to New York, if 
 only he could give him something to numb the 
 pain. The doctor laughed. " My dear fellow, 
 you must not think of going out of the house to- 
 day. It will be lucky if by care to-day you can 
 go to-morrow." 
 
 " Nonsense, doctor ! That 's all very well, 
 but you have to pull me up ; give me a hypoder- 
 mic or something for this neuralgia, for I sup- 
 pose that is what it is." 
 
 Molly looked eagerly at Doctor Price. If it 
 should only be neuralgia ! but his face betrayed 
 nothing.
 
 MOLLY A WIDOW. 101 
 
 " Mr. Bishop, you cannot go to New York to- 
 day ; I absolutely forbid it. You must go to bed 
 and take the medicine I leave. We will renew 
 that plaster with one that I will mix myself, and 
 in the afternoon I will see you again." 
 
 Harry protested, but perhaps it was fortunate 
 that the pain in his lung enforced the doctor's 
 words. He recognized that he could speak only 
 between gasps of pain. 
 
 " Doctor, doctor, can you do nothing to en- 
 able me to go to-day ? I could better stay away 
 all next week than to-day ! " 
 
 There was a look of desperate anxiety in his 
 face as he listened to the doctor's assurances 
 that he would not answer for the consequences 
 should he persist in leaving the house. " I am 
 much mistaken if you would not find yourself 
 forced to return home on the next train if you 
 went ! " 
 
 There was no gainsaying this. Harry hastily 
 wrote two telegrams, then suffered himself to be 
 put to bed. 
 
 Molly had heard the doctor say he would re- 
 turn in the afternoon as if it were a knell. She 
 knew he feared something very serious. 
 
 " What do you think is the matter ? " 
 
 " I can't say just yet ; I fear pneumonia, 
 but" 
 
 At the dreaded word " pneumonia " Molly
 
 102 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 uttered an exclamation, although she had been 
 prepared for it. 
 
 " Oh, doctor, that is such a terrible thing ! 
 and he is so worried ! " 
 
 " Yes, that is really the serious part. His 
 mind ought to be kept very quiet, but as I say, I 
 still hope the pain may be only muscular; he 
 has as yet no fever, and seems so well that I 
 hope for the best." 
 
 But by the afternoon the fever and a cough 
 had come. Then the dreaded pneumonia was 
 declared in its most serious form. A second 
 physician was called in consultation and every 
 expedient resorted to, but there was no hope 
 from the first. His worn-out mental condition, 
 that had conduced to the disease, prevented 
 any hope of recovery, and in three days Molly 
 Bishop was a widow.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 MOLLY'S THIRD BABY. WAYS AND MEANS. 
 
 MOLLY was a widow ! The phrase is preg- 
 nant with sadness even when the widow has less 
 to regret in the loss of her husband, even when 
 there is no loss of home and support connected 
 with the grief. But to Molly, for weeks there 
 were no degrees of sorrow ; nothing could have 
 made it lighter, no accumulation of trouble have 
 deepened it. Harry had been everything to her, 
 without him the sun seemed gone from the 
 world. Only by degrees did she realize that in 
 Meg and little John she had blessings to which 
 she must look for alleviation to her grief ; that 
 she must brace herself to meet the future, dark 
 as it was, for their sakes theirs and one other 
 than theirs ; for three months later Molly's third 
 child was born. During these three terrible 
 months, those who loved Molly were in sad anx- 
 iety as to her future, and she herself had been 
 forced to rouse to speak and think of business. 
 Yet she had not begun to form plans, had not 
 known, in fact, whether certain hopes Harry had
 
 104 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 had of securing something from the wreck when 
 all assets were realized were well founded or 
 not. She had felt it impossible to go into the 
 question, but others cherished no illusions. 
 
 Bishop, Whitehead & Bishop had come to 
 utter ruin. There would not be a dollar. For- 
 tunately for Mrs. Bishop, senior, the large, 
 handsome house that had been the home of the 
 Bishops was her own. But Molly's house was 
 part of the Bishop estate, and would have to be 
 given up. Neither this nor any sad fact that 
 could be hidden from her was allowed to trou- 
 ble her until after the birth of the poor posthu- 
 mous baby. 
 
 Unfortunately this baby, brought into the 
 world under miserable auspices, was a very dif- 
 ferent child from Meg or John. Molly, in ad- 
 dition to a mother's joys, which alone had been 
 hers so far, without any of the weary vigils that 
 make infancy so often a health-breaking period 
 for the mother, now knew what it was to try 
 vainly to soothe a restless infant. 
 
 It was not sickly, but very nervous and wake- 
 ful. And when it was but a few weeks old, 
 Molly found she could not nurse it. All this 
 served to rouse her from the apathy of sorrow 
 into which she might otherwise have drifted. 
 And very soon, too, came that other stern ne- 
 cessity that seems so often the aggravation of
 
 MOLLY'S THIRD BABY. 105 
 
 our grief, but which is generally a hidden bless- 
 ing ; I mean the necessity of looking poverty in 
 the face and devising ways and means to avert 
 it. 
 
 Something Molly must do for the support of 
 herself and children. At the first glance, it 
 seemed as if so bright a woman could have no 
 difficulty. She could do several things well, and 
 one unusually well. 
 
 " You must write," said Mrs. Lennox. " My 
 husband has always said if you would write just 
 as you talk, you would make a success ! " 
 
 " Oh, but," Molly had answered, " I could not 
 write anything but a cooking-book, and I have 
 read so much of the struggles writers have to 
 meet with before they can earn a dollar, that al- 
 though I am quite willing to believe that any one 
 who writes on a subject with which she is thor- 
 oughly acquainted will be successful, and make 
 money, it is not a safe staff for a woman with 
 children to lean upon. If I had even a very nar- 
 row income just to keep starvation off, and were 
 out of debt, I think I would risk the weary time 
 of apprenticeship which would probably, unless 
 I should be unusually fortunate, last some years ; 
 but I remember being told, when I had a girlish 
 ambition to support myself by writing, that Sir 
 Walter Scott said, ' literature is a good crutch 
 but a bad staff,' and I chose teaching because I 
 needed a staff, as I do now."
 
 106 MOLLY UJSnOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 Mrs. Lennox was too practical not to see that 
 Molly must begin to make money quickly, or the 
 little capital she had less than five thousand 
 dollars would melt away. Mrs. Welles's sug- 
 gestion was that Molly should start a cooking- 
 school. She herself had been before her mar- 
 riage a lecturer on cooking in England, and was 
 one of the first graduates from the South Ken- 
 sington School of Cookery, but her career was 
 cut short by her marriage to a wealthy Ameri- 
 can, Mr. Welles. Molly too had made cookery 
 a study, partly from natural love for it, partly in 
 order to economize time and money when she 
 should have a house of her own ; for she had 
 early seen that by knowing cooking by exact 
 methods, as taught in the cooking - schools of 
 London and America, meals which it would take 
 the uninstructed cook hours to prepare, and then 
 only with worry and difficulty, could be done, 
 and were done at every cookery demonstration, 
 in one quarter the time. 
 
 She saw that it was the same thing as an 
 amateur workman making a table or stool, and a 
 carpenter doing the same. In the one case, slow, 
 uncertain work, with alterations, vexations, and 
 as a result a clumsy article ; in the other, swift, 
 sure work, every stroke of saw or hammer tell- 
 ing, and in a quarter of the time a sightly result. 
 
 She would have very little to learn to make
 
 WAI'S AND MEANS. 107 
 
 her capable of teaching the " dainty art " she 
 loved, and Mrs. Welles would gladly have gone 
 back to old times and coached her where she 
 was lacking. 
 
 " I should love to see you well started in that 
 career, Molly, because just what you would do is 
 needed. You are a thinker, and beside teaching 
 how to make this and that dish, you would teach 
 that cooking is a profession like any other ; that 
 the adept with very little time can evolve excel- 
 lent dishes out of very cheap materials, while an 
 untrained woman would have to give hours to 
 the same work. 
 
 " The difficulty, I think, with many who try 
 to cook by rule of thumb is that the time they 
 seem to require discourages them ; and then, 
 though time is required to make elaborate 
 dishes, very simple ones require a great deal 
 more attention than they get, although the actual 
 time bestowed need be very little." 
 
 Molly would have dearly loved to choose this 
 pursuit in preference to all others, but she was 
 handicapped by her three children and the ne- 
 cessity for quick success, which she could hardly 
 expect. If she launched herself as a teacher of 
 cooking it would naturally take many months, 
 perhaps years, for her to make herself known. 
 Had she been alone in the world, with only her- 
 self to provide for, she would have taken her
 
 108 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 chances. She would have taught cooking wher- 
 ever and whenever she could have found on op- 
 portunity until she was well enough known to 
 start a school, and her spare time should have 
 been devoted to pen work. 
 
 But she had to find a home for her three chil- 
 dren, and keep her little capital as nearly intact 
 as possible ; therefore she had not many months 
 to give to making her way. 
 
 The problem before her was just this : to find 
 some employment for her time which would 
 yield a decent livelihood speedily for herself and 
 family ; which would not necessitate her leaving 
 home, and would promise enough success in the 
 future to enable her to educate her children. 
 
 For the same reason that Molly decided 
 against cooking-lessons, congenial as they would 
 have been to her, she had to decide against open- 
 ing a school for children, one of the things sug- 
 gested. That also must be a very slow success. 
 Of all plans, the one that seemed most feasible 
 was that she should take orders for fine cooking. 
 This might not have very quick results, but she 
 knew she would be without competitors in the 
 making of certain articles. 
 
 Mrs. Welles, who, as her most intimate friend, 
 was in constant consultation with her, was very 
 sanguine about this plan. 
 
 " I don't see, Molly, why you should not do
 
 WATS AND MEANS. 109 
 
 very well indeed in making only a few things 
 that are not easily purchasable, or at least, not 
 of first rate quality. Why, look in London ! 
 How many have made fortunes by making one 
 thing better than any one else ! There are Wat- 
 ling's pork pies and Buzzard's pound cake and 
 plum puddings ! Those two men have not made 
 a living only but a large fortune. Now why 
 should not superlatively good pound cake, or 
 veal and ham pies, etc., take here ? " 
 
 " But people don't know anything of veal and 
 ham pies here. I think I had better decide on 
 something else." 
 
 " Oh ! traveled people do know them ; and then, 
 has n't every one read of Mrs. Boffin's 4 Weal 
 and hammer,' and don't you suppose they have 
 wondered what it is, and wanted to taste it? 
 Supply creates demand, so I should not wonder 
 if even raised pork pies would be a success ; in- 
 deed, I have no doubt there are English people 
 enough in the country to make them pay, only 
 it would require time to make them known. 
 Then there are German specialties that are im- 
 ported here, and bring a high price ; those you 
 could make." 
 
 " Yes," said Molly thoughtfully, " I have of- 
 ten thought, when I have heard educated women 
 casting about for means of a livelihood, that I 
 would find out some of the imported eatables
 
 110 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 sold at a high price, practice till I could make 
 them perfectly, and then send them to the ex- 
 changes. The great thing will be to decide what 
 are the articles that there will be most demand 
 for." 
 
 " Yes, and that are not already made. The 
 field is wide enough. A few years ago extra 
 fine preserves would have been well to begin 
 with. The peach season is just coming, but sev- 
 eral are doing that business and more could do 
 it. Now we must think of something that no one 
 could do but you, or some one like you who has 
 learned the cooking of three countries." 
 
 " And who has a friend like Charlotte to 
 coach me in the secrets of famous English deli- 
 cacies," said Molly, with some of her old arch- 
 ness. Sad as the necessity seems for a widow 
 to be obliged to look round for a living for her- 
 self and children while her grief is yet fresh, it 
 was the greatest blessing to Molly. Her love 
 for her husband had been of the kind which 
 might have made her widowhood the end of her 
 youth and brightness, had she been left with 
 comfortable means. She would probably have 
 sunk into the apathetic performance of her 
 motherly duties, and into a chronic sadness in- 
 jurious to herself and children. But this press- 
 ing necessity of bread-winning absorbed her 
 thoughts; the certainty that, unless she could
 
 WAYS AND MEANS. Ill 
 
 do something beyond what average women 
 could do as bread-winners, her children must 
 sink into extreme poverty, and, worse than any 
 other evil of poverty, must live in such a neigh- 
 borhood as other people of very small means, 
 and be exposed to the bad air and see sights and 
 hear words that every refined woman shrinks 
 from, even for herself, and yet which cannot be 
 avoided in a crowded neighborhood. 
 
 Bread and milk and a garret would have had 
 little terror for her, provided the garret were 
 well situated. And yet how few occupations 
 there are that enable a woman to remain at 
 home with her children, and care for them, and 
 yet give her money enough to live decently! 
 Therefore something out of the beaten track of 
 sewing or giving hourly lessons in English and 
 French, for Molly had no other accomplish- 
 ments, must be devised, and, fortunately, fine 
 cooking, the least worked field for home occupa- 
 tion, was the resource she had. 
 
 Molly had dismissed Anna as soon as she was 
 able to attend to the baby herself, for she could 
 not afford to retain her. Nor would she have 
 been as useful with the new baby, for Molly felt 
 no one could deal with it but herself. In its fret- 
 ful, restless moods she would undress it, lay it in 
 flannel, and rub its little back and limbs gently 
 with her warm hand, until it was soothed and
 
 112 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 would sleep. At other times a warm bath 
 would have the desired effect, and Molly knew 
 that Anna, with excellent intentions, would 
 certainly aggravate the child's nervousness by 
 rocking it or walking it about. Therefore, in 
 pursuing her system of mitigating the child's 
 restlessness by keeping it as still as possible by 
 movements soothing to the nerves, and exceed- 
 ing care and regularity, she felt that no one 
 could be trusted but herself ; and under her man- 
 agement the little Kate was thriving, although 
 Dr. Price had warned her that it was a very del- 
 icate baby. 
 
 Meg and John had had the natural mother 
 food, but poor little Kate being a " bottle baby " 
 for the first three months, her food required 
 watching narrowly, for it was very apt to disagree. 
 At the end of three months Molly began to feed 
 her with a spoon, being very anxious to wean her 
 from the bottle ; for she knew children would as 
 readily eat from a spoon, if trained to it, at four 
 months as at twelve. But I am anticipating 
 matters. Having decided that to make eatables 
 for sale must be her resource, it became a ques- 
 tion what articles they should be. 
 
 " I tell you what, Molly ! We will write a 
 list of the articles you can make, avoiding, of 
 course, such as most people can make for them- 
 selves or buy, and then I will go and see my
 
 LISTS OF GOODIES. 113 
 
 friend Mrs. P. at the Exchange and get 
 
 her advice." 
 
 The two friends then sat down and made out 
 the following list : 
 
 English Pigeon Pie. 
 Veal and Ham Pie. 
 Sausage Rolls. 
 Cheese Cakes. 
 Cream Cheese. 
 Potted Cheese. 
 Twelfth Cake. 
 
 " Now a few French things, though as a mat- 
 ter of fact, one can buy those much more easily 
 than English specialties," said Mrs. Welles. 
 
 " One can buy them, but only in a stereotyped 
 way. For instance, if a large Brioche were 
 wanted, or large Baba or Savarin, it has to be 
 specially ordered." 
 
 " So it has, and you make either just as well 
 as any French woman." 
 
 The French list then was as follows : 
 
 Baba Cakes, large or small. 
 
 Brioche Cakes, large or small. 
 
 Gateau de Riz. 
 
 Vol-au-Vent of Poultry, Sweetbreads, etc. 
 
 Bouchees. 
 
 Consommee. 
 
 "There are several other things one could
 
 114 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 make," said Molly, " but one must find out what 
 is most likely to sell." 
 
 " That I will do," said Mrs. Welles. 
 
 Molly did not deceive herself into thinking 
 that a business could be built up very rapidly. 
 It might take a year to make even very little 
 money, and she must be prepared for delays and 
 drawbacks. Yet there seemed nothing she 
 could do that was sufficiently remunerative that 
 would not take time to establish. Mary Lennox, 
 after two years' hard work, had established her 
 greenhouse, and was making more money than 
 she could have made in any other way ; that is to 
 say, she was making a very comfortable living, 
 and her business in cut flowers was now growing 
 so rapidly that she bade fair to become quite a 
 rich woman in a few years. But had she fal- 
 tered at the hard work of the first year, or been 
 in too great a hurry for returns, she would have 
 failed ; and alas ! had she been, like so many 
 young women, obliged to provide a home for 
 herself or others while she worked her way, she 
 could not have thus waited for success.
 
 ttf 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A LETTER. MOLLY HAS A NEW IDEA. 
 
 DEAR MOLLY : As you do not come near 
 us in our trouble, I must write and tell you 
 what we have decided upon, although I confess 
 it seems to me you might have shown interest 
 enough in us to have inquired. Of course I 
 know you have your troubles too, but every- 
 thing is comparative in this world, and to come 
 down as I and my daughters have, from wealth 
 and luxury to not knowing what to do for a liv- 
 ing, is something that few people are called on 
 to endure ; and if you have lost a husband, I 
 have lost my son, and though you may love him 
 much, there is no love on earth like a mother's ; 
 and I must say I thought my son's wife would have 
 come forward to advise her mother in her trouble, 
 especially as you have known what it is to deal 
 with the world while I and my daughters have 
 not. But we have now decided on a plan which 
 will enable us to live in a manner suitable to 
 our tastes in one sense, however mortifying to 
 our pride in another. If you care to come and
 
 116 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 talk it over with us we shall be glad to see you. 
 I am naturally anxious, too, about your plans. 
 Have you decided to let us take Meg ? It must 
 be a relief to have one child less to think of, and 
 you know our love for the darling is as great as 
 your own. 
 
 Your affectionate mother, 
 
 ELIZABETH BISHOP. 
 
 Molly smiled rather bitterly as she read the 
 thoroughly characteristic letter of her mother- 
 in-law. The latter had come to her as soon as 
 it was certain there was nothing left from the 
 wreck, and had asked advice of Molly as being 
 practically acquainted with the matter of mak- 
 ing a living ; and she had offered at the same 
 time to share her daughter-in-law's burden by 
 taking Meg off her hands entirely. This Molly 
 declined. She knew Mrs. Bishop meant well, 
 and that although she was left without income 
 she was better off than Molly, for she owned a 
 handsome house and furniture and valuable 
 jewels. 
 
 When they had asked Molly's advice as to what 
 they should do she had immediately suggested 
 the obvious resource of letting the house fur- 
 nished and taking a smaller one, or a flat, and 
 the difference in rent would, with economy, sup- 
 port herself and two daughters.
 
 A NEW IDEA. 117 
 
 The suggestion, to Molly's surprise, was re- 
 ceived in dead silence by the daughters, and 
 with scorn by Mrs. Bishop. Of course, that 
 any one could see might be done, but what she 
 wanted was a way to preserve for her girls the 
 position they had hitherto occupied, and to do 
 this, they must remain amid decent surround- 
 ings. 
 
 Molly ventured to point out that a house that 
 required eight servants would be a very misera- 
 ble home reduced to the two they proposed re- 
 taining, and that with the rent from it they 
 might go abroad and live with comfort. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know what living in Paris or 
 London would be, on a limited income. We 
 should have to go to a cheap, shabby-genteel 
 boarding-house, and associate with frowsy dow- 
 agers, and old maids who are too tiresome to be 
 tolerated in their own families," said Virginia 
 Bishop. 
 
 " Of course, you could not live expensively, 
 but I don't think it need be so bad as that. I 
 have known very bright and well-bred people 
 who lived inexpensively in London and Paris." 
 
 Her words, however, had no effect, and her 
 relations-in-law parted from her with a feeling 
 of impatience, and the reflection that young 
 women of her class, which meant the class edu- 
 cated to earn their own living, never could un-
 
 118 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 derstand the feelings, the delicacy and sensitive- 
 ness of ladies, meaning those young ladies who 
 had nothing but their clothes and their pleas- 
 ures to think of all their lives. 
 
 Although her first discussion had been so un- 
 satisfactory, Molly felt that duty called her to 
 go and see her husband's family. She could not 
 imagine what the plan could be that would ena- 
 ble the family to live in the old home, and feared 
 it must be something wildly impracticable. 
 
 Her worst fears were realized when she 
 reached Mrs. Bishop's stately home. Mr. Bishop 
 was looking younger and heartier than ever ; the 
 increasing weakness of his mind seemed com- 
 pensated by strength of body and of will. Poor 
 old fellow, he cherished the hope that he would 
 be " even " yet with the smart operators who 
 had taken him in. He talked pompously of 
 emerging from the passing cloud, and lamented 
 the next instant with tears in his eyes that his 
 son would not be alive to enjoy the renewed 
 prosperity. 
 
 " But you shall, Molly, my girl, you shall." 
 Molly affected to hope with him, but she felt 
 how fortunate it was that he had nothing in his 
 power to waste, or his wife and daughters would 
 yet be utterly penniless, for he was as obstinate 
 in his mental decline as he had been in his 
 brightest days. ,
 
 A NEW IDEA. 119 
 
 But when Molly sat down to hear her mother- 
 in-law's plan it did not seem that he was much 
 more mad than his wife. 
 
 " Molly, we have talked matters all over, and 
 choked down our pride, and decided that the 
 only way in which we can live as becomes our 
 position is to to receive a few people of good 
 standing into our family." 
 
 Molly fairly gasped with surprised dismay. 
 
 " You are shocked, I see, and so were we all 
 when we realized that there was no alternative ; 
 but some humiliation we have to suffer, and this 
 is less than some others." 
 
 " But do you think this house could ever be 
 made remunerative for boarders ? " asked Molly, 
 remembering that though it was large and splen- 
 did it had only three bedrooms more than those 
 used by the family ; that there were three par- 
 lors, a library, dining-room, and reception-room 
 (and she soon learned that it did not enter into 
 Mrs. Bishop's plans to make any of these into 
 bedrooms). 
 
 "My dear Molly, you really can't judge in 
 this case," answering her tone rather than- words. 
 " For commonplace boarders, certainly this is 
 not a suitable house ; but do you suppose there 
 are not families who would gladly pay liberally 
 to live in a house kept on this footing, yet be re- 
 lieved of housekeeping ? I don't expect to have
 
 120 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 a crowd of hungry people at my table every day, 
 but one or two nice families who would pay the 
 same as for a suite of rooms and board at the 
 Brunswick. Superb accommodations ought to 
 bring superb prices." 
 
 Now Molly knew this was true, and had Mrs. 
 Bishop or her daughters had the smallest idea 
 of making money go as far as possible of 
 housekeeping in any but the most extravagant 
 way the plan would not have been so wild ; 
 for, it was always to be remembered, Mrs. 
 Bishop had no rent to pay. But as it was, un- 
 less one of the daughters should develop some 
 housekeeping talent, it did not seem possible 
 they could escape bankruptcy; and the more 
 they revealed their plans and impracticable 
 views, the more certain it seemed to Molly that 
 nothing but ruin could result. 
 
 For a moment a mad idea of offering to man- 
 age for them presented itself ; the next it was 
 abandoned. Under no circumstances could she 
 and the Bishop family have got along smoothly ; 
 for they were impressed with the fact that Molly 
 was very much beneath them socially, and she 
 was thankful she did not give utterance to her 
 good-natured thought. 
 
 She returned home very anxious for her hus- 
 band's family ; but a bright idea had dawned 
 in her own mind that would help the solution
 
 A NEW IDEA. 121 
 
 of her difficulties. She must leave the dear lit- 
 tle house where she had lived five happy years. 
 Why should she not rent a larger one and take 
 boarders? If they were slow in coming, her 
 cookery orders would help out ; if the latter 
 came slowly, something would be gained by the 
 boarders. 
 
 Molly well knew her own power of making 
 money do its full work, and knew she could 
 cater successfully for boarders. Her resolution 
 was taken. She would begin at once to seek 
 the house she needed, and get settled in it be- 
 fore she commenced to canvass for orders.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MOLLY TAKES A HOUSE. 
 
 WHEN Mr. and Mrs. Bishop first went to 
 Greenfield it was a small suburban town, just 
 becoming known to New Yorkers for its freedom 
 from mosquitoes and malaria, and its excellent 
 railroad. Since that time it had grown im- 
 mensely. Houses were not built fast enough for 
 the demand, and it had been said very often by 
 Molly herself that it was a pity some enterpris- 
 ing woman did not open a good boarding-house. 
 There were one or two, always crowded, and 
 yet which people only put up with for lack of 
 better accommodation ; and it was the same 
 with the two country hotels, where one could 
 predict the dinner always, and know that the 
 variety was between " roast beef and roast lamb," 
 and " roast lamb and roast beef." 
 
 Many people she had known since she had 
 lived in Greenfield had wished to stay a few 
 months, but could not do so from lack of good 
 board. She saw at once that she might be the 
 woman to supply the want. Her thoughts flew
 
 MOLLY TAKES A HOUSE. 123 
 
 to a house that had been long standing empty. 
 It had been built by an over-sanguine man, 
 business collapsed soon after it was finished, and 
 as it was too large for most persons seeking 
 country homes, it had stood empty ever since, 
 getting weather worn and shabby as such houses 
 always do. 
 
 When first the Morgan house, as it was called, 
 had been built it had stood alone, and although 
 quite near enough to the depot, had then been 
 thought out of the way. Then building began, 
 and now it was in a well built up neighborhood 
 of Queen Anne cottages, a large, forlorn French 
 roofed house. The fact that it had been empty 
 so long possibly prejudiced it, although Molly 
 found there was less reason for surprise after 
 making her first inquiries of the caretaker, an 
 old Irish woman, and her husband. 
 
 Having once decided, Molly was quick to act ; 
 the very next day Mrs. Welles and herself went 
 to look at the vacant house. 
 
 " It really seems made for a boarding-house 
 or a school," said Charlotte, when they had seen 
 the ten good-sized bedrooms beside the servants' 
 room and trunk-room. " I wonder no one ever 
 thought of it before." 
 
 " Deed an' if yez knew all about it that some 
 as lives in it know, ye would n't be surprised at 
 all," said the old woman, who followed them 
 through the house.
 
 124 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 " Why, what is the matter with the house ? " 
 asked Molly, quickly, much startled. 
 
 " Faith an' that 's more than myself can say, 
 but niver a day have I been well in the house, 
 an' as for me husband, he 's down wid the chills 
 every minute." 
 
 Mrs. Welles turned round sharply. 
 
 " I wonder you stay. I understand you have 
 been in this house for years." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, an' it 's easy saying it 's a won- 
 der we stay, but there 's no rint to pay, an' the 
 coal in winther an' all, poor people can't choose 
 their houses. But if I was the likes o' any one that 
 cud pay, niver a bit wud I come to this place." 
 
 "Tell me what is wrong. Is the drainage 
 bad?" 
 
 " It 's me belief it 's all wrong, an' I would n't 
 be doing right not to let ye know." 
 
 " Well, for instance, have you bad smells ? " 
 
 " Ay, indeed, smells that '11 turn yer sick at 
 yer stomach." 
 
 This was serious, and Molly was afraid she 
 must give up all idea of such a house ; yet when 
 she had been in the kitchen and seen the condi- 
 tion in which the sink was, she thought it would 
 be wonderful if there were no smells, and a 
 further visit to the cellar confirmed this idea. 
 Every kind of refuse was there stored, from 
 the ashes (wholesome in themselves) of many
 
 MOLLY TAKES A HOUSE. 125 
 
 fires, to garbage and old shoes and filthy rags 
 and straw. Not a breath of air was admitted 
 to the reeking mass, and they were glad to hurry 
 away. 
 
 " 111 ! I wonder they have n't given typhoid 
 to the neighborhood," said Molly. " Think of 
 people leaving a house in such hands ! " 
 
 " If it had been simply closed, no doubt it 
 would have been let long ago," said Mrs. 
 Welles. 
 
 "You don't attach importance, then, to her 
 account of its being unhealthy." 
 
 " Not a bit. Of course it is frightfully un- 
 healthy now, and as you are to be responsible for 
 other people's health I should have everything 
 examined by an expert before you rent the 
 place." 
 
 This was done ; the landlord, only too glad to 
 get a responsible tenant, was anxious to do 
 everything required. The rent was f 800 a year, 
 and Molly knew that a house with so many bed- 
 rooms was likely to be profitable at that rent. 
 The difficulty, she had observed, in making 
 country boarding-houses pay was that few 
 houses, unless built for the purpose, had sufficient 
 bedrooms. 
 
 From the time the house was taken until it 
 would be ready for occupation, Molly was so 
 busily occupied that she had no time during the
 
 126 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 day to brood over her grief, and at night when 
 work was over the night that had been a long 
 tearful wakefulness her fatigue was so great, 
 her mind so busy, that even then she could not 
 long indulge in the luxury of woe. Her thoughts 
 then naturally turned to her loss, her heart ached 
 with loneliness, yet her mind was traversed by 
 thoughts of her undertaking, the doubts and 
 fears and calculations, and she would drop asleep 
 and sleep soundly. 
 
 In work, she, like so many others, found the 
 blessed panacea for trouble. 
 
 Of course, she had to buy more furniture than 
 had sufficed for the little house, although she by 
 no means intended to furnish all the bedrooms 
 except as she found need for them. 
 
 She decided to furnish two of the bedrooms, 
 and bought for the purpose simple, well-made 
 ash furniture at $ 29 the set of four pieces. She 
 found now, as in furnishing her own house, that 
 it was better to buy chairs separate, and to 
 choose them for comfort rather than custom. 
 
 Molly called up her recollections of boarding, 
 and all the disagreeables connected with it, and 
 determined, so far as she could help it, that those 
 who boarded with her should have no such 
 cause of annoyance. One she remembered was 
 the fact that some drawers would not open with- 
 out great exertion, and others would not close.
 
 MOLLY TAKES A HOUSE. 127 
 
 How often had she had her patience taxed by 
 trying to get a bureau drawer exactly in the po- 
 sition in which it would shut. This she guarded 
 against by testing them all, and taking such suits 
 as were guaranteed of well-seasoned wood. 
 
 In her quest for furniture, she sought the 
 best value for her money, but she did not look 
 for the impossibly cheap, knowing it would be 
 dear in the end, and very few dollars made the 
 difference between plain, well-made articles 
 and poorly made. The great difference lay in 
 stylish furniture. Ill-made stylish, alias showy 
 furniture, cost nearly double of that she bought, 
 and yet had the prices been the same she pre- 
 ferred her own. 
 
 She bought squares of ingrain carpet of good 
 quality and artistic patterns, but she eschewed 
 dull colors, because she had no bright -covered 
 furniture to be shown up by the neutral tint, 
 and the whole color and brightness of the room 
 would depend on the carpet, inartistic as such a 
 fact might be ; so she chose mingled blue and 
 tan and, with an eye to the future making of 
 two worn carpets into one good one, she bought 
 both alike. 
 
 The kitchen utensils had, of course, to be on 
 a larger scale than in her own house, but the 
 purchase of a few large pots and pans was all 
 she ventured upon until she should see how her 
 venture succeeded.
 
 128 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 Then there was extra linen to provide. All 
 this occupied her spare time. Little Kate's 
 restlessness made this very much less than it 
 might have been, for though Molly pursued the 
 plan of feeding the baby regularly and laying her 
 down to sleep, and found no difficulty because 
 the child had known no other way, yet the naps 
 were very short, and excellent as Marta was, 
 trying to do her own work and as much of what 
 Annie had done as possible, she could not help 
 much with the little Kate. The mother-touch 
 seemed the only one that soothed her. This 
 undoubtedly came from the fact that Molly, 
 feeling that this baby was Harry's last legacy to 
 her, had persisted in doing everything for it 
 herself. She could not bear it away from her. 
 Dear as Meg and John were to her, this little 
 one seemed to need her care so very much more 
 than they had ever done ; and so the little one 
 had developed the tyranny of helpless babyhood, 
 and Molly found herself at last the willing 
 slave of little Kate. But somehow it seemed 
 as if all the care and love she lavished on it was 
 given to its father, and so Molly had one spoiled 
 baby. 
 
 Thus her time was very fully occupied, in 
 those last days in the little home she had loved 
 so dearly, and then came the sad packing-up, 
 the final wrench with the happy past, and Molly
 
 MOLLY TAKES A HOUSE. 129 
 
 took possession of the great house, so unlike 
 anything she would have chosen except from a 
 business point of view. 
 
 John and Meg were wild with delight as 
 they scampered through the echoing corridors 
 and rooms, laughing to hear their own voices 
 sound so strangely. 
 
 The tears welled into Molly's eyes when she 
 saw the glee of the children in their new sur- 
 roundings, and yet she would not have had it 
 otherwise if she could. 
 
 She had many helping hands in everything 
 she needed to do, and very soon order came out 
 of chaos, and the house began to seem more like 
 a possible home.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MOLLY IN HER NEW HOUSE. BEGINNING 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 MRS. WELLES had not been idle while Molly 
 was preparing for the change in her life. She 
 had visited the Exchange, seen the manager of 
 the household department, and learned from her 
 that they would welcome any novelties, and es- 
 pecially such as would be suitable for Sunday 
 afternoon tea. 
 
 " And that, my dear, is where I think your 
 pigeon pies and ' weal and hammer ' will come 
 in, beside other things that you will be able to 
 make, once your articles are known to be relia- 
 ble. At any rate, whenever you are ready to 
 send anything they will welcome it." 
 
 Molly had advertised as soon as she was set- 
 tled, and she also made known as widely as pos- 
 sible her intention of taking boarders. Now, 
 after careful consideration as to what would be 
 the best article to send with a pigeon pie, she 
 decided, as she would have pastry, to make Ban- 
 bury cakes, as they are often heard of and read 
 of, but little known.
 
 MOLLY IN HER NEW HOUSE. 131 
 
 She knew that it was more than likely her first 
 pie might be a dead loss, for it might not sell, 
 although Charlotte Welles pooh-poohed the idea. 
 
 " No fear, my dear, of anything so attractive 
 looking as one of your pigeon pies remaining 
 unsold." 
 
 " There 's one thing : if I only have boarders, 
 I shall make things that will keep a few days, 
 and have a regular day for getting back unsold 
 articles and delivering fresh ones ; and then, as 
 those unsold will not be stale, we can eat them 
 at home." 
 
 Molly found, when it became known in Green- 
 field that she would make articles to order, that 
 the news was received with delight ; for many 
 people sent to New York for things that they 
 could not obtain at the local bakery, and to be 
 able to order them right at hand, " what a 
 comfort that would be ! " 
 
 Molly was glad to find there was this prospect, 
 and her own common sense told her if she could 
 produce articles not only as good to eat, but as 
 delightful to look at, as anything supplied by the 
 French or Italian caterers, she would get custom ; 
 but she knew the world too well to be over san- 
 guine. She thought that what seemed so con- 
 venient now might cease to seem so when the 
 time came, and that many would decide if they 
 had to send to New York for wines or ices, they
 
 132 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 might as well send for all. Time alone could 
 show. 
 
 The first Thursday that she was settled, she 
 made the pigeon pie and Banbury cakes. She 
 found a farmer who kept pigeons, and from him 
 bought a pair for forty cents, deciding in her 
 own mind, that if she had to buy them often, 
 she would send to Fulton market and get them 
 by the dozen ; but for this experiment the most 
 expensive way would be to buy too much of any- 
 thing. 
 
 Molly first put a small chopping-bowl and the 
 chopping-knife in the ice-box to get cold while 
 she prepared the birds. The rolling-pin was also 
 placed there, and the pastry-board laid over the 
 top to get as cold as it would ; for it was a mild 
 fall morning, and she needed every aid that ice 
 would give in order to have the pastry in perfec- 
 tion. 
 
 Next she put two eggs to boil hard, and then 
 proceeded to prepare the meat and birds, so as 
 to have nothing of the kind to touch when the 
 pastry was on hand. 
 
 She had been very particular, in choosing the 
 steak, to take one that was bright red in color 
 and of fine grain, from which the red blood 
 seemed ready to ooze on pressure, for this is the 
 sign of a, juicy steak when cut from the round. 
 
 The dish she intended for the pie was a deep
 
 MOLLY IN HER NEW HOUSE. 133 
 
 oval holding a quart, what English people call 
 a pie-dish, but used here as an uncovered vegeta- 
 ble-dish ; it had a lip all round half an inch wide, 
 and this lip was essential to the appearance of 
 the pie. 
 
 The steak was more than she needed to put in 
 a pie, as the dish would not comfortably hold 
 more than the two birds and three quarters of a 
 pound of steak, but she needed a little meat for 
 extra gravy. She trimmed away every bit of 
 skin and gristle ; there was scarcely any fat, for 
 the steak was from the centre of the round be- 
 fore the broad band of fat was reached, which 
 comes after the finest steaks are cut. She then 
 cut off about a quarter of a pound of meat and 
 chopped it with the trimmings, put it on in a 
 small saucepan with a pint of water and half a 
 teaspoonf ul of salt ; this was to simmer gently all 
 day, and at night would yield a gill of strong 
 gravy. 
 
 This done, she laid the steak on a meat-board 
 and hacked it all over very finely with a heavy 
 knife, then went over it the reverse way so that 
 it was ultimately crossed in all directions with 
 the knife. This she now laid in the dish and 
 sprinkled over it a small teaspoonful of salt and 
 half a level saltspoonful of pepper. Then she 
 prepared the birds by cutting off the head and 
 neck and splitting them down the back. She
 
 134 MOLLY SISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 removed the inside, reserving hearts and livers. 
 The feet were carefully laid aside ; the heads, 
 hearts, and livers were washed and added to the 
 gravy she was making. 
 
 The birds were nicely washed, split lengthwise 
 down the breast, and then sprinkled with pepper 
 and salt and laid in the dish, bone side down- 
 ward. The four half birds were disposed as 
 smoothly as possible, so that when the crust 
 should go on, there should be as little protuber- 
 ance as possible. She pressed her two hands 
 along each side of the dish to round the contents 
 up toward the centre into a dome. Then she 
 took the shells from the hard eggs which she had 
 put in cold water, after they had boiled fast for 
 twelve minutes. 
 
 Each egg was cut in four quarters, and the 
 pieces inserted wherever there was a hollow spot. 
 The dish was then half filled with water and put 
 aside while the pastry was made. 
 
 Into the cold chopping-bowl twelve ounces of 
 flour was carefully weighed, and then a table- 
 spoonful of it put into the dredger to use in 
 flouring the board. Nine ounces of firm butter 
 was also weighed and put to the flour, then 
 chopped as quickly as possible at an open win- 
 dow. When the butter was about as small as 
 hazel-nuts, a hole was made in the centre of the 
 flour and the yolk of an egg, a small saltspoon-
 
 MOLLY IN HER NEW HOUSE. 135 
 
 ful of salt and a scant teaspoonful of lemon juice 
 put into it, and a gill of ice water. With her 
 two fingers (in order that as little warmth from 
 her hand as possible might be communicated to 
 the paste) she stirred the water, egg, etc., and 
 then gradually took in the flour, until she found 
 the water all absorbed, adding more, a few drops 
 at a time, until it formed a stiff paste. She was 
 careful not to knead or work the paste, using 
 only enough pressure to make it cohere. Had a 
 novice seen the rough, ragged piece of dough, 
 with bits of butter lying loose, that she turned 
 out of the bowl on to the board, the novice 
 would undoubtedly have felt that she must be 
 making a mistake, that the dough must be made 
 smooth ; but Molly had made it often, and had 
 had too many compliments paid to her pastry not 
 to feel very sure of herself, so long as she could 
 work quickly enough to prevent those bits of 
 butter getting soft. Once the butter melts in 
 pastry before it gets in the oven there is an end 
 to fine pastry for that occasion. 
 
 Molly just worked the dough enough to make 
 it a compact but not smooth mass. Then she 
 floured the rolling-pin (left in the ice-box till 
 the last minute), and rolled out the paste once 
 to half an inch thick, gathered up the crumbs of 
 butter, etc., and put them on the dough, dredged 
 it very lightly with flour, and folded it over one
 
 136 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 third, then lapped the other third over that, thus 
 making a book-shaped piece of paste. This she 
 turned half round, thus bringing the rough edges 
 toward her. She rolled it out again, always tak- 
 ing care not to let the rolling-pin go beyond the 
 paste. 
 
 It had now formed a smooth sheet, but Molly 
 saw it was fast softening, and decided as this 
 pastry must do her credit, to put it on the ice 
 for half an hour. She could find plenty of 
 things to do while it chilled again. She there- 
 fore dredged just a dust of flour over it, and 
 folded it in three as she had done before, taking 
 great care that it was even, laid it on a tin 
 plate, and put it quite on the ice. 
 
 Apropos of the right and wrong way of rolling 
 paste, Molly's experience in teaching several 
 persons how to use her recipe so that a paste, 
 second only to the finest puff paste, and far bet- 
 ter than puff paste as made in most private 
 houses should be the result, was, that the ladies 
 did not at all understand cause and effect. In 
 their hands it usually made a rich short paste. 
 One lady did not hesitate to say that she 
 thought Molly had some secret of her own, some 
 little wrinkle that she concealed, which caused 
 her pastry made in so simple a way to rise as 
 high as the lightest puff paste. This lady, Molly 
 told to bring her own materials, and then set her
 
 MOLLY IN HER NEW HOUSE. 137 
 
 to work under her direction. She found that 
 she would have patted and smoothed the paste 
 into shape, with her warm hand, before rolling, 
 and that when she did roll, the rolling-pin went 
 over the edge of the paste at each end. This 
 tapered it off to the thickness of paper, beside 
 squeezing all the air out, which it is the great 
 desideratum to keep in. Nor could Molly make 
 her see that it could matter, even when she 
 rolled for her, and showed how the rolling-pin 
 should stop exactly at the end of the paste, leav- 
 ing it just the same thickness at the edge as any- 
 where else. 
 
 Another lady who said her paste was dry and 
 not a bit like Molly's, she found understood her 
 directions to dredge a little flour, to mean scat- 
 tering a thick layer, nearly a tablespoonful, over 
 it, instead of, perhaps, half a teaspoonf ul or less 
 from the dredger ; and when the pastry stuck 
 to the board, instead of taking it as a sign that 
 the butter was melting, and it needed to go on 
 the ice, the paste was scraped up, and flour 
 thickly strewn over to prevent it sticking. To 
 this lady, Molly explained that every abrasion 
 of the paste must be avoided, just as if it were a 
 skin ; that should it stick, it must be gently 
 lifted by laying it over the rolling-pin, as lifting 
 it with the hands, unless you are very used to 
 handling paste, will pull it out of shape or stretch
 
 138 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 it, both ruinous to it. But Molly felt that these 
 tiny points, which were the only secrets she held, 
 were not considered sufficient to account for her 
 conjuring puff paste out of what they considered 
 a recipe for ordinary " chopped paste " which 
 they had long used. 
 
 Molly found so many things to do (for in 
 order to work freely Marta had been sent out 
 with the children, and her work Molly could go 
 on with while waiting for the pastry to chill), 
 that it was some time longer than she intended 
 before she got back to it ; but this was all the 
 better for her pastry, as she well knew. 
 
 When she began to roll it again, it was quite 
 firm, and neither stuck to board or to rolling- 
 pin. She worked as rapidly as possible, rolled 
 the paste out to half an inch in thickness, folded 
 it in three again, then repeated the process, then 
 rolled it out ready to use. It was about half an 
 inch thick. She wet the lips of the pie dish, cut 
 two strips of paste an inch wide and laid round 
 it, pressing the inner edge, or the one next to the 
 meat, closely to the dish with her thumb, thin- 
 ning it until it went a little down the inside of 
 the dish. The outer edge she was careful to 
 leave untouched even by the lightest pressure. 
 She next wet the surface of the paste slightly 
 with a brush she kept for pastry purposes, and 
 then cutting off the paste for the cover she laid it
 
 MOLLY IN HER NEW HOUSE. 139 
 
 over the meat. It was amply large to allow for 
 shrinkage in the oven. With both hands she 
 encircled what may be called the dome of the 
 pie, pressing the paste with the lower part of the 
 palm, and both making it adhere to the under 
 paste and also keeping the groove. The same was 
 done at the end of the dish, but the pressure was 
 only for a second ; not a moment was lost, so that 
 the paste might not get soft. Then Molly took 
 the dish up in her hand and trimmed away the 
 overhanging paste with a sharp knife slanting 
 outwards, that is to say, in a direction that left 
 the edge of the paste quite flush with the dish. 
 She quickly laid the rest of the paste, trimmings, 
 etc., on the tin dish, keeping back a small piece, 
 then hurried with it to the ice, and returned to 
 finish the pie. She rolled the piece of pastry 
 quite thin, cut four small leaves with a pastry- 
 cutter from it, cut a hole in the centre of the pie, 
 laid the four leaves round it stems toward the 
 centre, rolled the paste still thinner, as thin as 
 paper, floured it very lightly, then doubled it up 
 as she would have folded a handkerchief till it 
 formed a little inch and a half square. She 
 took the four corners and gathered them together 
 like a bundle, making a sort of a stem of them, 
 then with her sharp knife she cut a deep cross 
 on the top. The paste could now be folded back 
 in some semblance of a rose, the petals formed
 
 140 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 of the fold on fold of paste. This was inserted 
 in the hole in the centre of the pie, and then the 
 yolk of an egg was beaten with a tablespoonf ul 
 of water, and the whole pie brushed over or 
 glazed with it. The edges were of course un- 
 touched, as the egg would have stuck the leaves 
 of paste together and prevented the rising. Two 
 small slits were then made in the groove that 
 surrounded the pie, and it was put in the oven, 
 which was what would be called a good bread 
 oven, hot enough to raise the crust, yet not hot 
 enough to burn it in less than an hour. This 
 she tested by holding her hand in it till she 
 could count twenty-five, when she had to with- 
 draw it. 
 
 When the pie was in the oven she took the 
 little pigeon feet, put them in a cup, poured boil- 
 ing water over them, and then quickly stripped 
 the outer skin from them, bent back each nail 
 until it came off, and the feet remained a vivid 
 scarlet. This has to be quickly done, or the 
 water will cook the outer skin, and with it will 
 come the inner, spoiling the feet for the purpose. 
 
 When the pie had been in for half an hour, 
 Molly turned it, and at the same time she in- 
 serted two of the feet in the slit she had made 
 at each end of the pie, so that the little red 
 claws stood out of it and served to indicate the 
 nature of the contents.
 
 MOLLY IN HER NEW HOUSE. 141 
 
 Usually the feet are put in when the pie goes 
 into the oven, but Molly found they often came 
 out as brown as the crust, while they should be 
 red ; and when the pie was cooked, at the end of 
 an hour, they were still red enough to be very 
 certainly pigeon feet. Later, she removed the 
 pastry rose in the centre, poured the gravy she 
 had made through a funnel, replaced the " rose," 
 and the pie was ready. It was baked a beauti- 
 ful golden brown, and looked far too tempting 
 not to find a buyer.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MOLLY AT WORK. BANBURY CAKES. 
 BOARDERS. 
 
 IT will be remembered that Molly put the 
 remains of her pastry on the ice while she fin- 
 ished the pie. She had other work to do, and, 
 wishing to give the pastry as long a time on the 
 ice as possible, she arranged the fire so that the 
 oven might last well, and was just quitting the 
 kitchen, when there came a ring at the front 
 door. Molly's friends always opened the door 
 for themselves, and formal callers would hardly 
 come before eleven in the day ; so it must be a 
 stranger. Fortunately Molly was always neat ; 
 it was one of the blessings that she had learned 
 in cooking-school days that cooking did not ne- 
 cessitate soiling one's clothes. To be sure, she 
 had never reached the dainty precision of that 
 lady pioneer of cooking-schools in this country, 
 who cooked an elaborate dinner in a handsome 
 gown without an apron, doing all the drudgery, 
 the cleansing of birds, the paring of vegetables, 
 and making pastry, without soiling her cuffs or
 
 MOLLY AT WORK. 143 
 
 her hands below the second joint. This was an 
 artistic feat, however, to which few, without 
 special gifts of deftness and very great prac- 
 tice, could attain ; but a debt of gratitude is due 
 to her who so completely divested cookery of its 
 aspect of drudgery, and proved that a woman 
 might, if she be only artist enough, prepare an 
 elaborate dinner, and have only to wash her 
 hands to be ready for the drawing-room. To 
 this perfection Molly had not attained, though 
 she could, and did, wear a nice dress ; but she 
 did not dispense with the apron, and the signs 
 upon it, after a day's wear, showed her that it was 
 necessary. She took off her apron, therefore, 
 and opened the door. A hack stood in front, 
 and a lady, unknown to her, was at the door. 
 
 " Mrs. Bishop, I suppose ! I heard that you 
 were going to take boarders, and came to see 
 you about rooms for myself, husband, and little 
 boy." 
 
 Molly was new to her business, and only ut- 
 tered what she felt to be very inadequate : 
 
 " Yes ; I have rooms, which I will show you." 
 
 The two rooms that Molly had prepared were 
 shown and approved, the terms were asked, and 
 the current Greenfield price for each person, ten 
 dollars per week, was named. 
 
 " But my little boy, of course, will be half 
 price ? "
 
 144 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY". 
 
 Now this was a point which Molly had thought 
 over as a contingency. She knew it was quite 
 customary to pay half price for children; yet 
 she could not give one of the best rooms in the 
 house to a child for five dollars a week. Even 
 one adult would have had a smaller room, but 
 the two she had shown were communicating 
 rooms. 
 
 " Yes. The price is five dollars for the child ; 
 but, of course, he must then have a smaller 
 room. I could not give a room I may need for 
 a married couple for that price." 
 
 " Ah ! that would never do, unless the room 
 opened from mine. He is too old to need a 
 nurse, but not old enough to sleep away from us 
 in a strange house." 
 
 "I can show you two other communicating 
 rooms one large and a small one off it. The 
 furniture is not in them, but can easily be trans- 
 ferred ; that is, the furniture of one room. The 
 little room, of course, could not have so large a 
 set. I would put in it a cot bedstead, wash- 
 stand, and a small bureau." 
 
 The lady, who gave her name as Tomes, was 
 taken to see the two rooms, and did not like 
 them nearly so well. They were equally pleas- 
 ant, the same aspect, but Molly could see 
 that, having seen and liked the other two, Mrs. 
 Tomes could not take to the idea of the second
 
 MOLLY AT WORK. 145 
 
 room being so small. Molly was sure she ought 
 not to let one of her best rooms go for a child's 
 use at five dollars a week. 
 
 " And you will not let me have the two rooms 
 you showed me for twenty-five dollars ? " 
 
 Molly rapidly thought : " It is a hundred 
 dollars a month ! " It was certainly very nice 
 to be sure of that sum; yet why should Mrs. 
 ' Tomes refuse to take the other two rooms ? The 
 small one ten feet by ten was as large as 
 she would find anywhere for five dollars ! How- 
 ever, they were three, and it would be for the 
 winter ; and she thought it might be wise to 
 compromise. 
 
 " Are you willing to pay twenty-eight dollars 
 for those rooms ? " asked Molly. 
 
 " I think we must limit ourselves to twenty- 
 five dollars," was the reply. 
 
 Mrs. Tomes then arose, and there was noth- 
 ing to do but to accept her terms or say " Good- 
 day," and Molly did the latter, but not without 
 a feeling of trepidation, for she feared she might 
 regret it ; and then, again, there was some little 
 resentment that Mrs. Tomes should require a 
 first-class room for her child for five dollars a 
 week, and refuse to take any other. 
 
 Molly returned to her work, and later to the 
 kitchen to make Banbury cakes. 
 
 Molly knew the mixture for the inside of Ban-
 
 146 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 bury cakes would keep ; so although she needed 
 very little for use now, she made a small jar, 
 thus : Half a pound of currants, four ounces of 
 candied citron, four ounces of candied lemon- 
 peel (cut very small), the grated rind of one 
 orange, half a pound of honey, one teaspoonf ul 
 of cinnamon, one-half teaspoonful of cloves, and 
 one-half teaspoonful of allspice (all ground). 
 The whole she mixed with a large wineglassf ul 
 of brandy. The mixture was now like stiff 
 mincemeat. (If it is thinner than this, use less 
 honey.) 
 
 Molly rolled out the paste, laying the trim- 
 mings, which were now cold and firm, in a heap 
 all large pieces one upon the other, so far as 
 possible, but not rolled up into a ball, as is fre- 
 quently done with trimmings. When it was a 
 quarter of an inch thick, she cut it with a sharp 
 knife into circles four inches across, using a 
 bowl of that size, turned on the paste, as a 
 guide. Along the centre of each circle she 
 laid two teaspoonfuls of the mixture, then folded 
 over one side nearly one third, wet the upper 
 surface with the white of an egg, folded over 
 the other side, and lapped the ends again to 
 make a sort of pointed oval ; then, having satis- 
 fied herself that the juice could not escape, 
 she turned it over on to a flat baking tin, gently 
 flattened it with her hand, cut several tiny slits
 
 MOLLY AT WORK. 147 
 
 along the middle with scissors, brushed it with 
 the white of an egg, and then sifted powdered 
 sugar over it. She made six and then baked 
 them twenty minutes in a moderate oven. 
 
 Molly's recollection of true Banbury cakes as 
 they were sold in London and brought to the 
 car-windows at Banbury Station, on an ever-to- 
 be-rejoiced-in journey to Devonshire, was that 
 they were a very pale yellow, covered with a 
 sugary icing. She was very anxious that these 
 should look exactly like the veritable Banbury 
 cakes of the London pastry cooks. But she 
 feared her oven, even if cool enough to bake 
 them as light in color, might be too cool to 
 make the pastry rise ; so, after they were put at 
 the bottom of the oven, she placed on the upper 
 grating a large, empty dipping-pan. This would 
 prevent them getting brown, while they would 
 cook as well. 
 
 Success rewarded her management ; for the 
 cakes certainly looked exactly the delicate pale 
 tint (yet not at all underdone) she wanted to 
 see them. 
 
 She had scarcely finished and taken from the 
 oven a pastry cake for John and Meg, when 
 Mrs. Welles's basket-carriage drove to the door, 
 with the two children and her own Lois in it. 
 She had picked them up and taken them for a 
 Ions: drive.
 
 148 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 Molly was glad to see her, for she was still a 
 good deal excited about Mrs. Tomes's visit, and 
 very fearful that she had made a mistake in re- 
 fusing the offer made for her rooms, but she 
 was reassured by Mrs. Welles's scornful rejec- 
 tion of the idea. 
 
 " Give a second room and such a room ! 
 for five dollars a week ! Do you think any one 
 in Greenfield will do it ? No, my dear. I am 
 glad you had the courage to refuse. I think if 
 Mrs. Tomes had seen the small and large rooms 
 first she would not have expected it." 
 
 " But some people do take boarders for eight 
 dollars in winter," said Molly. 
 
 " Yes ; but they give a winter table, and that 
 is not what you will do, my dear. Suppose you 
 or I needed board, do you think we could get a 
 large room for ten dollars a week ? It is only 
 two persons who do that, and to give such a room 
 for half ten dollars would not help to pay your 
 bills, Molly. Wait awhile. I don't think you 
 will be long finding your first boarder, and that 
 will lead to others." 
 
 As if to prove her a true pi-ophet, the same 
 day brought a letter from a young married 
 couple, asking terms. Molly knew something of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Foy, and was glad to think that 
 she might have them in her house.
 
 MOLLY AT WORK. 149 
 
 She answered at once and told them all par- 
 ticulars. She was pretty certain that they 
 would come, for young Mrs. Foy had often 
 before her marriage been a guest at Molly's, and 
 knew the kind of board she would have.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MOLLY GOES TO THE WOMAN'S EXCHANGE. 
 
 MOLLY thought it would be better for her to 
 take her wares to the Exchange herself, at least 
 for the first time. It would be too expensive, 
 as a general thing, to trust to others, unless her 
 dealings with it grew quite large ; for the hint 
 had been given by the manager that if articles 
 arriving on Saturday morning were unpacked 
 by the consignor, or a deputy, it was a great 
 convenience to them and an advantage to the 
 goods themselves, as, with the best intentions in 
 the world, in the press of business it was often 
 found impossible to open packages until the de- 
 mand for the day was over, or they were hastily 
 opened, and their contents laid anywhere handy, 
 but not displayed to the best advantage. Arti- 
 cles sent to arrive on Friday, however, did not 
 labor under that disadvantage. 
 
 Molly was determined that her work should 
 lack nothing that a little sacrifice of time or 
 money at the outset could do for her ; she would 
 look on it as an investment. A man who starts
 
 MOLLY GOES TO THE WOMAN'S EXCHANGE. 151 
 
 in business has to expect a few months of out- 
 lay before reaping the benefit of it. If he has 
 no capital, he has a terrible struggle in order to 
 exist and meet the necessary expenses. 
 
 Something like this Molly was saying that 
 evening to Mrs. Lennox, who had asked her if 
 she thought it would pay her to spend a dollar 
 to take in articles that would only sell for three. 
 
 " No, not at once, of course. I suppose my 
 profits will be nil this time ; but then, I am hop- 
 ing to make by it in future. By the way, I 
 must count up my expenses, to see just how I 
 shall come out by charging two dollars for the 
 pie and seventy-five cents a dozen for the Ban- 
 bury cakes." 
 
 She jotted down : 
 
 Pigeon pie $ .85 
 
 Currants 05 
 
 Citron 07 
 
 Lemon-peel (candied) 07 
 
 Spices 05 
 
 Orange 02 
 
 Honey 09 
 
 Brandy 10 
 
 $1.30 
 
 " From the pie I have pastry enough to make 
 a second, or tarts, or, as I did to-day, the Ban- 
 bury cakes ; so that reduces the cost of the pie,
 
 152 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 and I suppose I ought to keep a strict account 
 of that fact, so as to see exactly what profit I 
 make on each article, and so learn what is the 
 most profitable to do. I may conclude that 
 two pigeon pies would cost only one dollar and 
 sixty-one cents. The filling for the Banbury 
 cakes costs forty-five cents, but it is enough for 
 two and a half to three dozen ; so I may reckon 
 the filling costs for each cake two cents. Now, 
 if I obtain, as I hope to do, two dollars for the 
 pie and thirty-seven cents for the cakes, less the 
 commission of ten per cent., I double my money 
 and have twenty-six per cent, over." 
 
 " How is that ? " asked Mrs. Lennox. " Your 
 Banbury cakes must cost more than twelve 
 cents." 
 
 "A fraction, because I sifted a half cent's 
 worth of sugar over them," laughed Molly. 
 " You are counting that I used all the forty-five 
 cents' worth of filling ; but I have enough for 
 two dozen more cakes, at least. My profits this 
 week will just about pay my fare." 
 
 " But, my dear, suppose you really could not 
 afford to regard this work as an investment, but 
 must have the money. Many women who are 
 forced to go to the Exchange with their work 
 have barely enough money to buy materials. 
 What would you do then ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; only I think I should be dis-
 
 MOLLY GOES TO THE WOMAN'S EXCHANGEE. 153 
 
 trustful of succeeding quickly enough, if I were 
 in the great need that such scarcity would imply, 
 to dare venture to await results. I mean that I 
 should do something for which there is always 
 a real need, instead of spending my last few 
 cents on such an errand. I could not hope to 
 succeed at the first attempt, and would not dare 
 to wait." 
 
 " What do you mean by work ' for which 
 there is always a real need ' ? " 
 
 Molly laughed. " Well, I should not ' hanker ' 
 to do it ; but I have thought the matter all over, 
 and I am sure if I had need of an immediate 
 livelihood or else must beg or borrow, which last 
 is the condition your suggested possibility pre- 
 supposes, I would pocket my scruples and do 
 any menial work." 
 
 " Molly, you can't think what you are saying." 
 
 " Yes, I have thought a great deal. I know 
 myself, and I am sure that my pride would suffer 
 less to do some other woman's work for her than 
 it would to beg money, which is exactly what 
 borrowing small sums just to get along with, 
 without any fair prospect of being able to repay 
 it, amounts to. Think of the scorching shame 
 of that ! and yet how many helpless women go 
 on half starving on what they can make ' gen- 
 teelly ' and borrowing from long suffering friends 
 to eke out. The sort of pride that could stoop
 
 154 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 to that, yet reject as menial any employment 
 whatever that one could satisfactorily do, I can't 
 understand. Many men remain out of employ- 
 ment months and years, leaving their families to 
 starve or suffer, and borrowing every cent they 
 can, simply because genteel employment is lack- 
 ing, while the very houses who cannot find room 
 for all the clerks they could get, need porters. 
 We women all despise the men who will not 
 take a spade and dig rather than degrade them- 
 selves by hanging on to friends, but forget that 
 it is as despicable in a woman, unless she is pre- 
 vented by her children from doing any work 
 that comes to hand. The only woman who can- 
 not possibly do this is the one who is bound 
 hand and foot with a baby or very young family. 
 She, poor soul, must accept help, must do only 
 the work she can find to do at home, but even 
 that, it seems to me, ought not to be lacking. 
 How many people do we know who complain 
 that they would be thankful to know of any in- 
 telligent person to sew at their own homes, but 
 that unless work is planned and fixed it is al- 
 most impossible to get it done rightly ; and to 
 busy housekeepers the planning and fixing is 
 what they want to get rid of ; if they do that 
 they may as well save their money and do their 
 work at home. There is just one woman here 
 who not only sews but does it intelligently, does
 
 MOLL Y GOES TO THE WOMAN'S EXCHANGE. 155 
 
 not make blunders, and charges a moderate price 
 for good work ; but she has far more than she 
 can do. You have to wait a month for Mrs. 
 Gibbs to take your work. There is employment 
 for three or four Mrs. Gibbses in Greenfield, 
 but there is only one, and other seamstresses are 
 often in want of work." 
 
 Mrs. Lennox sewed thoughtfully a few min- 
 utes, then said : " You surprise me by a few 
 things you have said, and I shall have to think 
 over them quietly ; but you don't mean to say 
 with regard to borrowed money that if you had 
 been left quite destitute, and some well-to-do 
 friend, say Mrs. Welles, had offered you a sum 
 of money to start you in business, that you would 
 have felt humiliated in accepting it ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed, I should gratefully accept 
 help to help myself, and if I saw a good chance 
 of repaying it should not hesitate to avail myself 
 of such aid. That is not what I mean at all by 
 living on borrowed money." 
 
 " I think I understand what you do mean," 
 said Mrs. Lennox, " yet it seems to me very 
 hard to say that one would do menial work." 
 
 " Yes, very hard, I know ; something to shrink 
 from, and accepted only as an alternative to the 
 worse humiliation of hanging on to gentility's 
 skirts dishonorably. Yet it must be an artificial 
 state of things which should make any work so
 
 156 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 repugnant, especially household work. I don't 
 feel at all degraded by washing the dishes or 
 taking up the ashes in my own house (although 
 I confess I grudge the time, because it is work 
 any one can do, while I have work no one but 
 myself can do). Why should I elsewhere ? " 
 
 " Oh, the repugnance is caused of course by 
 the class of persons who are employed in house- 
 hold work. It would be the same with any busi- 
 ness or profession if only the most ignorant, 
 least thrifty and intelligent people went into it. 
 Nowadays any one is good enough for household 
 work if she is not good enough for anything 
 else." 
 
 " Yes, that must be so, and to me the chief 
 objection to a superior woman getting her living 
 by housework would be the contact with uncon- 
 genial companions. But in an emergency, as 
 one can in this country always have choice of 
 places, I would choose one where all the work 
 would be done by myself. I should prefer hard 
 work alone to light work with companionship ; 
 and the opportunity of being free from uncon- 
 genial companionship would make service to me 
 preferable to factory work. As for the nonsense 
 talked about being made to feel one's social in- 
 feriority by a lady and not by the factory over- 
 seer, that is nonsense only understandable to 
 those who want to keep up the fiction that
 
 MOLLY GOES TO THE WOMAN'S EXCHANGE. 157 
 
 tyranny of mistress to maid, and not false pride, 
 keeps decent women from service." 
 
 " You are exceptionally fitted to make your 
 way by keeping boarders, or by making table 
 luxuries ; but supposing for argument's sake you 
 were as little fitted as most women I, for in- 
 stance ! what would you have done ? " 
 
 " I hardly know. I did think whether I 
 might not start a circulating library, we hear 
 that one is so much needed here." 
 
 " A circulating library ! why of course ! "
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 WINDSOR PIE. A VISIT FROM MRS. FOY. 
 
 EARLY next morning Molly started to town, 
 taking the pie in a small wooden box that came 
 from the grocer's and had held fine canned 
 goods. The Banbury cakes were packed round 
 it in waxed paper with utmost care that the 
 glazed surface of the pastry should not be in- 
 jured. The vacant space was filled with cotton 
 batting covered with waxed paper, and then cov- 
 ering the box with paper she put a shawl strap 
 round it. The package was neat enough, but 
 by the time she reached the Exchange she found 
 it quite sufficiently heavy. 
 
 She arrived early, found every one busy, but 
 after unpacking the pie whose appearance be- 
 spoke favor for it, she was allowed to place it 
 very prominently on the showcase where every 
 customer would see it. She had a card ready 
 prepared on which was written in large, clear 
 characters, 
 
 ENGLISH PIGEON PIE. 
 The Banbury cakes were ticketed in the same
 
 WINDSOR PIE. -A VISIT FROM MRS. FOY. 159 
 
 way, and Molly told the superintendent she 
 would call in the afternoon, and if the articles 
 were not sold, take them home and send fresh 
 for the next week. 
 
 When she did return in the afternoon she 
 was quite prepared to find that her pie was still 
 there, but that she might be encouraged to send 
 again, and to learn from comments made that a 
 smaller size would suit better, or even that meat 
 pies would hardly be popular. But there was 
 better fortune in store. The pie was sold and 
 four of the Banbury cakes, and the manager 
 suggested a larger supply next week, and that 
 some kind of pie might be sent that could be cut 
 into pieces and sold, so much a portion, for the 
 ladies' lunch. 
 
 Molly returned elated and very hopeful, al- 
 though she was too sensible to think that to-day's 
 good fortune was anything but a lucky chance. 
 
 " And the fact, my dear, that the pastry 
 showed for itself that it was of the puffiest ; the 
 best kind of omen for the contents, add that 
 to your element of good ' luck,' " interjected 
 Mrs. Welles, as Molly related her experience. 
 She decided to make a Windsor pie the next 
 week, to cut, as well as a second pigeon pie, and 
 also more Banbury cakes. 
 
 Monday brought a visit from Mrs. Foy, who 
 engaged one of the rooms Molly had ready.
 
 160 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 And a few days later Mrs. Tomes returned to 
 see if the rooms she had been offered were va- 
 cant, and finding one was not she seemed much 
 annoyed, then finally decided on taking the one 
 shown her with small hall room for her little 
 boy, at twenty-four dollars. It was a dollar less 
 than the price, but Molly accepted it. 
 
 She was now beginning to keep house for her- 
 self, three children, and five boarders on forty- 
 four dollars a week. Molly had determined 
 when she decided to take boarders that, no mat- 
 ter what happened, those who paid her should 
 have as good or better board than they could 
 get elsewhere. Of course, once she had several 
 boarders that would be easy enough, but she had 
 known cases of women who had to struggle 
 along with two or three who suffered, at least to 
 the extent of poor food, because the small in- 
 coming went so little way toward the out-going. 
 She knew should she have long to wait with 
 only three or four she would have to inanage 
 very cleverly to avoid going behind, or giving 
 poor board. One reason why, with only partly 
 enough money coming in, many a woman is 
 forced to ruin the reputation of her house, and 
 lose even her few boarders, is because, too often, 
 that amount has to provide for all her private 
 family just the same food as for the boarders. 
 This Molly resolved to avoid. If she intended
 
 WINDSOR PIE. A VISIT FROM MRS. FOY. 161 
 
 to succeed she must make the table something 
 that would commend itself. If this must be 
 done only for two boarders, instead of providing 
 for all the household alike, she would simply 
 send in for the one or two the dinner they ought 
 to have, having a much simpler one for herself 
 and children, and continue to do this until there 
 were enough boarders to enable her to have a 
 generous table for all. 
 
 She had been told by women who had got 
 rich by keeping boarders that there was no 
 profit until you had six or seven, after that 
 every one counts ; of course under six there would 
 be loss, and she had observed enough to know 
 that it was while waiting for the six that many 
 a woman fails, especially if she has five or six 
 of her own family who are to be supported out 
 of money paid by two or three boarders. A 
 wise woman would keep her own family on oat- 
 meal and milk, that her boarders might have a 
 satisfactory table and so draw more ; but instead 
 of that too often the service is insufficient, and 
 the food poor. These were the breakers she 
 must steer clear of. She must also avoid in- 
 trenching on her little reserve, or otherwise go- 
 ing into debt. Therefore she decided to make a 
 rough calculation of what her expenses might be 
 expected to be, and how far the forty-four dol- 
 lars a week would go to meet them.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 INCOMINGS AND OUTGOINGS. 
 
 MOLLY'S income from her boarders was 
 a week, which, as there are four weeks and one 
 third of a week in each month, would give her 
 $190 with which to meet her monthly expenses. 
 She sat down with pencil and paper and marked 
 down what her expenses would be so far as she 
 knew them for the first month, then she would 
 know what she would have for the other ex- 
 penses : Rent, $ 66.66 ; servants, $26 ; coals, 
 $5 ; tea, $3 ; milk, $10 ; total, $110.66. This 
 would give her $80 for the butcher, baker, gro- 
 cer, and all the other household expenses. The 
 second servant was an immediate necessity, and 
 the next month the fuel must be at least doubled ; 
 at present it was needed only for the kitchen, 
 which did not burn more than a ton a month. 
 Ice would not increase, and in allowing five 
 quarts of milk a day she expected to have 
 enough by taking it under her own charge. 
 She had the experience of others to tell her that 
 milk is one of the mysteries of housekeeping.
 
 INCOMINGS AND OUTGOINGS. 163 
 
 Sometimes a gallon barely seems to supply the 
 coffee for breakfast, but when an attempt is 
 made to see where the great leak can be by 
 watching the pitchers, etc., the gallon seems to 
 increase by magic and the milk is abundant. 
 Molly, therefore, had decided to buy one of the 
 neat refrigerators that come for dining-room 
 use, and to keep butter, fruit, and milk under 
 her own eye, sure that she would save money by 
 doing so. 
 
 She did not expect with the five boarders 
 she had to find her own expenses all paid ; to 
 put it plainly, she did not think that she 
 and three children and two servants could live 
 on the profits made on five people, if those 
 people were to have what they had a right to 
 expect. 
 
 Molly, when she resolved to keep boarders, 
 had called to mind all she could remember to 
 have been told to her by those who had made a 
 success of the business, and she well knew that 
 the two women who had made most money 
 gave better food and accommodation for the 
 money than any one else. They probably were 
 content to make less at the beginning, and when 
 numbers increased, as there was rarely loss from 
 long continued vacancies, they began to make a 
 profit. And Molly could see for herself that if 
 income from the five (or it may be said four and
 
 164 fyOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 a half) boarders she now had went near to pay- 
 all expenses, as she would be at no extra ex- 
 pense with half a dozen more, except just for 
 what they ate, she would then be clearing a 
 handsome sum each month. 
 
 This all seemed clear as daylight, and yet 
 when she remembered what struggles and dis- 
 tresses she had known women even with several 
 boarders to endure, she could not understand ; it 
 seemed as if her own calculations must be too 
 sanguine. True, the women of whom she was 
 thinking lived in large cities where the rent was 
 more than double her own ; but then also for the 
 best rooms they could and did ask much higher 
 prices, and the smallest they would let for no less 
 than she would get for her best rooms. 
 
 " Well, it 's no use for me to worry about 
 what others do or cannot do ; I must just do the 
 very best I can, see that every dollar is used to 
 the best advantage, and then try to do right." 
 
 Mr. Welles laughed when Molly gave her 
 views of keeping boarders. 
 
 " So you want to give your boarders all you 
 possibly can for their money, instead of as little 
 as they will be satisfied with ! There is a great 
 deal of novelty in that idea, and I often thought 
 a boarding-house on such principles ought to be 
 a great success ; it is one of the great business 
 secrets."
 
 INCOMINGS AND OUTGOINGS. 165 
 
 " What is ? " asked Mrs. Welles, who was 
 strongly against Molly giving people too much 
 for their money, although she would almost cer- 
 tainly do so herself. 
 
 " The secret of the gigantic retail businesses 
 that have grown up of late years in New York, 
 London, and Paris, is to sell quickly at very 
 small profits ; small profits and quick returns 
 make more money than large profits made 
 slowly." 
 
 " Oh, bother your business maxims. Molly's 
 returns won't be a bit quicker if she gorges 
 her boarders on real spring chicken and tender- 
 loin steaks and puff paste, than if she gave the 
 usual imitation articles." 
 
 " They may not be quicker, but they are a 
 great deal more sure. Do you suppose any one 
 will leave when they get such fare ? and don't 
 you suppose that there will soon be competition 
 to get rooms here, and Mrs. Bishop may then 
 charge fancy prices, if she likes. Just look at 
 the matter for a moment as a business man 
 would. Most boarding-houses change boarders 
 often ; every week or two there is a vacancy, 
 sometimes several. Every vacancy means nearly 
 ten dollars a week loss. That is to say, if only 
 one or two leave when eight or ten remain, the 
 difference in the marketing would be hardly per- 
 ceptible. Each double room vacant means a loss
 
 166 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 of twenty dollars if only empty one week, and in 
 an average house it may be empty longer ; just 
 put that twenty dollars into your butcher's and 
 grocer's bill for the month and see what a differ- 
 ence it makes. Your essentials are the same, 
 your rent, servants, fuel, lights, because you 
 can't cut down your running expenses with every 
 variation in the number of boarders. This be- 
 ing the case the woman whose house is always 
 full could make money and give excellent board, 
 while the one who has frequent loss from short 
 vacancies will stint her boarders and yet be a 
 loser, and the more she stints the greater her 
 loss." 
 
 " So it has always seemed to me," said Molly. 
 " Mrs. Maclntyre, who began with a small house 
 in a cheap block in New York ten years ago, 
 and now has three houses very handsomely fur- 
 nished on Madison Avenue and is fast making 
 money, told me her success was due to the fact 
 that her boarders, at least the married ones, 
 stayed on for years, and did not leave town in 
 summer till late, instead of being in a hurry, as 
 people less comfortable would be ; and that in 
 order to secure their rooms for fall they often 
 paid room rent for summer, so that even at that 
 season she did better than most people. Of 
 course, there were exceptions. I know, too, that 
 where we boarded in New York, with a little care
 
 INCOMINGS AND OUTGOINGS. 167 
 
 and no more expense to our landlady, we might 
 have lived much better, and the changes would 
 have been fewer, yet it was, all things con- 
 sidered, a very fair house. We only paid twenty 
 dollars a week for two, and the people who had 
 what were called the best rooms, thirty ; so I, 
 paying less than half the city rent, ought to give 
 very good board indeed, although I find $10 for 
 each person is considered a very good price 
 here, $8 being quite general, while $10 is very 
 low for New York; I mean, of course, in 
 decent localities." 
 
 " Cuthbert, I am ashamed of you encouraging 
 Molly to wear herself out for other people. 
 That is just what she is planning to do," said 
 Mrs. Welles, as they walked home. 
 
 " Nonsense, I am encouraging her to become 
 a successful woman, which she will do if left to 
 herself. She has the right ideas." 
 
 " Oh, Cuthbert, what can you know about 
 it?" asked his wife impatiently. 
 
 He laughed heartily. 
 
 " Do you think a moderately good-natured 
 man will go through life and not be consulted by 
 less fortunate women friends as to how to make 
 a living ? I know I have been consulted half a 
 dozen times by the widows of business friends, 
 and I have always found that although a teacher 
 understands that she must teach all day in or-
 
 168 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 der to make a living, and so does a woman who 
 proposes to go into any business except taking 
 boarders, those who in their reverses have 
 asked my advice about utilizing their houses for 
 this last purpose, I always found were looking 
 forward to leading almost exactly the life they had 
 hitherto led. They had in their more prosperous 
 days kept two, perhaps three, servants, and they 
 proposed to go on with those and hoped to get 
 several inmates ; but I never met with one, ex- 
 cept Molly, who expected actually to work her- 
 self at the beginning. The expectation gener- 
 ally is to make money by giving as little time as 
 possible and no real work." 
 
 " Yes, but I ' ve heard you say a dozen times, 
 Cuthbert, that no one can work themselves and 
 direct others." 
 
 " That 's true enough ; only when the business 
 has to be made a wise man works with his men, 
 not doing their work or helping them, but do- 
 ing what they cannot do. Mistress Molly says 
 she intends being her own cook until she has 
 experience in quantities, knows just how far 
 things will go, in fact, until she learns her busi- 
 ness ; and by her cooking she will make the rep- 
 utation of her house. Her rock ahead will be 
 that she will naturally want to employ a cook 
 later to relieve herself. Where will she find a 
 substitute for herself ? "
 
 INCOMINGS AND OUTGOINGS. 169 
 
 " That 's it ! She will spoil these people, and 
 then kill herself to keep up to her reputation." 
 
 Mr. Welles laughed again. 
 
 "You rave against Molly and would do ex- 
 actly the same yourself." 
 
 " Of course I should, but I 'm as strong again 
 as Molly." 
 
 " It 's the strength in the heart, my dear, the 
 courage and energy, and you both have that."
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 EXPEDIENTS AND DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 WITH regard to the laying out of the eighty 
 dollars Molly could as yet only give a rough 
 guess. She would be better able to tell at the 
 month's end, but it seemed to her that it would 
 almost pay her bills. Had the weather been cold 
 enough to allow of her going to Fulton Market 
 for fish and vegetables she knew she could buy 
 to better advantage ; that, however, she could not 
 attempt to do until November, but she made an 
 arrangement with her butcher by which, on tak- 
 ing a half sheep or lamb, she got it very much 
 cheaper, because he thus got rid of the less 
 prime parts, while Molly could use every part 
 to advantage ; and while her table was so small 
 she arranged for him to hang the meat in his ice 
 closet. It would be the same with beef if her 
 family became large enough to use much soup. 
 Her only fear was that in attempting to give a 
 very good table she might not be able to afford 
 the great variety some houses whose table was by 
 no means good provided. She had a keen rec-
 
 EXPEDIENTS AND DIFFICULTIES. 171 
 
 ollection of three kinds of roast meat, all in- 
 ferior as to cooking and quality, being consid- 
 ered necessary in a house with twenty boarders, 
 and in talking of it, the landlady had deprecated 
 the necessity, saying, what was quite true, that 
 she could not afford that the three joints should 
 be the best of their kind, nor could one cook be 
 expected to cook the three roasts besides a va- 
 riety of vegetables properly ; and yet the board- 
 ers set so much value on variety that they 
 would not be satisfied with less. If this should 
 be true it would be a terrible stumbling block in 
 the way, but Molly decided she would try first 
 what simple, excellent dinners would do. She 
 would then take care to find out what each one 
 disliked and avoid it. 
 
 So the first night that Mr. and Mrs. Foy 
 dined, Molly provided 
 
 Vermicelli Soup. 
 
 Roast Beef. Yorkshire Pudding. 
 
 Mashed Potatoes. String Beans. 
 Ramakins. Apple Pie. 
 
 Nuts. Grapes. 
 
 Coffee. 
 
 She had hoped by having dinners that re- 
 quired little or no attention after she herself left 
 the kitchen that she could manage to let Marta 
 take care of the children, and the waitress 
 attend table, but she found this did not work.
 
 172 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 The rainakins had been made by Molly and 
 put in the oven, the vegetables were all cooked 
 and dressed, but John and Meg had not been 
 accustomed to go to bed till seven, and it was 
 impossible to send them at six, the usual Green- 
 field dinner hour. Kate was bathed and laid in 
 her cot, but Molly had to leave John and Meg 
 with Marta who perforce was in the kitchen, and 
 her heart was in her mouth at every sound. She 
 pictured to herself their dear little hands grasp- 
 ing a saucepan handle or the hot oven door, or 
 eluding Marta in a dozen ways, probable and 
 improbable, and she decided she could not stand 
 another such ordeal. 
 
 She could have managed, perhaps, better by 
 having everything cooked and left ready for the 
 waitress to bring in and letting Marta go upstairs 
 with the children ; but that would be at the cost 
 of the excellence of the dinner, which somehow 
 Molly could not bring herself to do, so she re- 
 solved until she could afford a nurse to eat her 
 own meals early with the children. She would 
 then remain in the pantry to send things in, to 
 carve, and watch any little articles still cooking 
 in the kitchen, although she tried to avoid the 
 last as much as possible. 
 
 The next night, therefore, when Mr. and Mrs. 
 Tomes had joined the household, Molly sent the 
 dinner in, and did not herself go in until the 
 salad was put on.
 
 EXPEDIENTS AND DIFFICULTIES. 173 
 
 She adopted this plan with great regret, and 
 from the simple necessity of choosing between 
 her own convenience and the comfort of her 
 boarders. The alternative was very disagreeable 
 to her ; she felt it was a somewhat undignified 
 position, but not for a moment must her dignity 
 be put in the scale against her duty, and she 
 did not yet dare to incur the expense of a third 
 servant. 
 
 But not many days passed before Molly began 
 to think that she had been forced into a very 
 wise thing. She found that by carving at leisure 
 she could do it more thoroughly and carefully 
 than at the table. The one night she tried it, 
 although only two were at the table, she had not 
 known what she had eaten herself, nor had she 
 enjoyed her meal. Now she dined at noon with 
 the children. She found by knowing exactly 
 what was left after the dining-room was served 
 she could arrange for next day ; and as the ser- 
 vants also dined in the middle of the day, what 
 was left from the evening was all available. 
 
 To give as minute an account as I would like 
 to do of Molly's management of her boarding- 
 house would take treble the space that I have at 
 command, and my story would run to the terrible 
 dimensions of a Richardsonian novel. Some 
 slight sketch of the kind of meals she furnished 
 I will try to give, with a few recipes where they
 
 174 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 enabled her to make her table seem much better 
 than the average, although the cost was no more 
 to her. 
 
 I must not forget to say that Molly had paid 
 careful heed to one thing Mrs. Welles had said. 
 
 "Molly, remember, you must take lessons 
 in carving. My father would carve a turkey 
 so that a dozen people each got a plate of 
 meat with some of the breast. My husband, 
 when he has cut for six people, begins to look 
 round and wonder if the breast will hold out, 
 and whether he will not have to break up the 
 carcass pretty soon. While my father's turkey 
 would leave the table a respectable bird still, 
 Cuthbert's is a disgrace, and no one has had nice 
 pieces." 
 
 " I know ; I have observed that mystery be- 
 fore. One would think so many pounds of meat 
 would only satisfy just so many people, no mat- 
 ter how it is cut ; yet it does make the greatest 
 difference ; but how could I take lessons in carv- 
 ing?" 
 
 " I don't know ; it 's easy enough and com- 
 mon enough to do it in London, but I '11 ask 
 Cuthbert to find out." 
 
 The carving lessons had to lie in the future, 
 but she did take care to have her knife like a 
 razor, and this made a great difference. The 
 leg of mutton carved into clean, neat slices
 
 EXPEDIENTS AND DIFFICULTIES. 175 
 
 looked very different, both on the plate and on 
 the dish, from one hacked and torn by a blunt 
 knife. With the roast beef it made even more 
 difference, for the meat, being diversified with 
 fat and lean, was less compact. 
 
 As I have said, Molly inquired of her board- 
 ers what they disliked. She found the Foys 
 liked everything but stewed oysters or oyster 
 soup. Mrs. Foy ate neither of these, nor did 
 she like curry, which Molly was careful to ask, 
 but her husband did. The Tomes did not eat 
 veal, and disliked hash and stewed meats of any 
 kind. 
 
 This rather upset Molly's programme ; she 
 had hoped, if her boarders would let her, to give 
 them remarkably good meals ; but if nothing but 
 roast meat or steaks and chops would serve them 
 she supposed they must have what they wanted. 
 
 She thought the matter over. Of course she 
 meant to have the very best roast of some kind 
 every day, and she must watch for a few weeks. 
 Many people protested against things that they 
 really liked very well. She must try to make 
 her table as like a good private table as pos- 
 sible. Surely that must be appreciated. 
 
 Nevertheless she was careful to bear in mind 
 the tastes of her boarders as far as possible. 
 For instance, on days that there was oyster soup, 
 Molly remembered a day ahead to have a plate
 
 176 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 of other soup for Mrs. Foy ; a very inexpen- 
 sive and easy matter when the family is large. 
 Stewed oysters was a Sunday tea dish sometimes, 
 then Mrs. Foy's oysters were given her on the 
 half-shell. However, these matters belong to 
 Molly's table management, of which details will 
 come later. 
 
 There was one source of profit and comfort 
 that Molly was anxious to take advantage of, and 
 that was having the laundry work for the board- 
 ers done by a laundress hired by herself. She 
 asked Mrs. Foy and Mrs. Tomes if they would 
 like their washing done in the house, and they 
 were very glad, as Molly herself when boarding 
 had been when the chance offered. 
 
 For the first week she hired a woman who had 
 worked for her for some time when she needed 
 extra help, and on whose work she could depend. 
 She came two days and a half. The price for 
 mixed washing was seventy-five cents a dozen, 
 and the woman's wages was $2.50. The board- 
 ers had between them three dozen pieces, and 
 the house washing was thus done for next to 
 nothing. Before the second week Molly had en- 
 gaged a laundress at $16 a month, and as until 
 the house was full she would not be more than 
 half employed in the laundry she was to help in 
 other ways. 
 
 Now Molly could have sent her children up-
 
 EXPEDIENTS AND DIFFICULTIES. 177 
 
 stairs in Delia's charge and herself presided 
 at the table, but her present plan was of such 
 advantage in some ways, that she would by no 
 means change it at present. 
 
 So well had Molly's wares pleased the patrons 
 of the Exchange that she had received a note : 
 
 " Will you make two dozen cheese cakes, as 
 well as more Banburys ? " 
 
 Molly had intended, it will be remembered, 
 to make another pigeon pie, also a Windsor pie 
 that could easily be cut into portions for lunch, 
 and Banbury cakes, for her second week's con- 
 signment, and this order, which had come with- 
 out soliciting, encouraged her very much. The 
 pastry making enabled her at a mere nominal 
 cost and very little more trouble to put a dainty 
 dish of fine pastry on her table for dinner that 
 night by making two or three extra Banburys, 
 and the same of cheese cakes, and while making 
 the Windsor pie she made one to eat cold for 
 luncheon. 
 
 In making up the pie she worked exactly as 
 for the pigeon pie, only for variety's sake in- 
 stead of ornamenting with leaves she cut a small 
 square about three inches by three, laid it on the 
 centre of the pie, and then cut with a sharp pen- 
 knife a good-sized hole through both it and the 
 cover to let out steam. To hide the hole she 
 made a little ornament of thin pastry many
 
 178 MOLLY BISHOP'S FA MIL Y. 
 
 times folded, and cut with a sharp knife into a 
 sort of daisy, on the principle of the pastry rose 
 she made for the pigeon pie; then all was 
 brushed over with egg carefully. (See direc- 
 tions for Pigeon Pie.) 
 
 Molly had early in the week had half a ham 
 boiled. It was nice for lunch. A thin slice of 
 it was often required to give a piquant flavor in 
 making sauce or soup, and it was now on hand 
 for 
 
 WINDSOR PIE. Put at the bottom of a deep, 
 oval pie-dish or " baker " a layer of lean, un- 
 cooked veal sliced half an inch thick. (Shoul- 
 der of veal is excellent for this purpose.) 
 Sprinkle over it a scant saltspoonful of salt and 
 pepper, mixed in the proportion of one saltspoon- 
 ful of pepper to five of salt; then put a thin layer 
 of ham and one of forcemeat (for which the rec- 
 ipe will follow). Both the layer of ham and of 
 forcemeat must be very thin, yet ham must cover 
 the veal entirely, as you would cover the bread 
 with it for a sandwich. Then the forcemeat must 
 be evenly laid all over the ham, but both together 
 must not exceed half an inch. Now lay another 
 layer of veal and salt and pepper, then ham and 
 forcemeat again, until the dish is quite full. 
 Lay something flat on it, then a weight, for an 
 hour. Meanwhile have prepared from bones 
 and scraps of veal about a pint of stiff veal jelly,
 
 EXPEDIENTS AND DIFFICULTIES. 179 
 
 very well seasoned ; pour this over the meat. 
 Wet the lip of the dish, lay a strip of pastry all 
 round, pressing lightly to make them adhere, 
 then lay on the cover. (See directions for Pig- 
 eon Pie.) 
 
 Prepare the forcemeat thus : 
 
 Half a pound of lean veal (in cold weather 
 pork sausage meat is better and saves trouble), 
 chop it very fine ; a cup of fine, stale bread 
 crumbs without any crust whatever, a dessert- 
 spoonful of finely chopped parsley, a saltspoonf ul 
 of finely powered thyme, savory, and marjoram, 
 a good teaspoonf ul of salt, scant saltspoonful of 
 pepper. Mix altogether with enough butter to 
 make a crumbling paste.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CHEESE CAKES. COLD MEAT PIE. COLD MEAT 
 FRITTERS, AND OTHER RECIPES. 
 
 CHEESE cakes were things that Molly had ex- 
 perimented upon considerably before finding the 
 recipe she liked. The old-time form called for 
 sweet curd, dried and sifted, and this was per- 
 fectly satisfactory to the palate, but very tire- 
 some to do. The modern recipe, which does 
 away with the curd, but retains the other ingre- 
 dients, she found more like lemon pie, and not 
 the real cheese-cake texture. Now she was well 
 aware that the principle on which the curd was 
 used was the same as that of the beef in mince 
 pie, merely to afford a solid foundation for 
 the richer ingredients. She had, therefore, tried 
 bread crumbs, sponge-cake crumbs, and floury 
 potatoes, rice flour (boiled to a stiff mush), and 
 rolled cracker, and had decided on using the lat- 
 ter. The rice made a delicious variety, but it 
 was too moist for the orthodox cheese cake. 
 The recipe she used was as follows : 
 
 ENGLISH CHEESE CAKES. Four ounces of
 
 CHEESE CAKES. - COLD MEAT PIE. 181 
 
 rolled cracker, three ounces of fine butter, yolks 
 of two eggs, two tablespoorifuls of brandy or 
 sherry, two ounces of sweet almonds, half an 
 ounce of bitter almonds, beaten to paste, the 
 grated rinds of two lemons (medium size), the 
 juice of half a lemon, and three ounces of granu- 
 lated sugar. 
 
 The butter was creamed, the cracker added, 
 then the yolks of eggs, brandy or wine, and 
 sugar, all beaten very well. 
 
 As in all cases of old-time recipes that called 
 for almonds beaten, Molly used almond paste, 
 and when bitter almond was to be a distinct 
 flavor, as in this case, she added a few drops of 
 almond extract. She grated the almond paste 
 to crumbs, and beat it in with the other ingredi- 
 ents. When all was thoroughly mixed, Molly 
 put the bowl aside, and proceeded to fill oval 
 patty-pans. Of course, round cheese cakes 
 would have been as good to eat, but not so 
 pretty to look at ; and Molly had the instinct of 
 business, and knew that form in pastry and cake 
 has very much to do with their selling qualities. 
 
 When the patties were lined and pricked a 
 little on the bottom, to prevent the pastry rising 
 under the filling, she filled each one, and quickly 
 put them into a hot oven. Perhaps it may be 
 needless to say to those who have watched Molly 
 using pastry, that the edge was only trimmed
 
 182 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 off with a sharp, steel knife. There was no 
 smoothing with the finger ; in fact, she touched 
 the pastry as delicately as if it were white tulle, 
 and not one unnecessary touch was given. 
 
 The cheese cakes took twenty minutes for the 
 crust to be a very pale brown and the filling the 
 color of ground cinnamon. 
 
 These were packed, when cold, with the pies, 
 and sent to the Exchange by express, to arrive 
 Friday night. Molly had obtained a grocery 
 box, and, by means of a thick cardboard divi- 
 sion, had packed therein the two pies ; then 
 laid over these a cardboard cover, which was 
 prevented from touching the top of the pies by 
 a layer of waxed paper, cotton, and excelsior 
 packing, and small slats fastened with tacks 
 along the sides to prevent the pressure (the 
 centre division also tended to do this) ; then 
 came more excelsior, and each cheese cake, 
 wrapped in waxed paper, was laid on it, a layer 
 of cotton wool on them, and the box was filled 
 up with excelsior and the cover nailed on. 
 Molly's aim in packing had been to avoid fric- 
 tion, which would spoil the appearance of her 
 productions, and, as the result showed, she suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 These were busy days for Molly, although she 
 did not find herself overworked. She was too 
 sensible to risk her health and her children's
 
 CHEESE CAKES. COLD MEAT PIE. 183 
 
 welfare by overdoing, and fortunately, although 
 energetic, she was not nervous, and was exempt 
 from that curse of busy-minded women the 
 tyranny of nervous excitement that drives us 
 to work long after the need has ceased. I say 
 it drives us, as if women were peculiarly sub- 
 ject to it. Physicians, however, say that busi- 
 ness men suffer from it quite as much. They 
 are told to rest from business, but cannot take 
 rest, although they know they are not needed in 
 business ; rest is impossible, for a seeming ne- 
 cessity drives them back to their desks. But 
 Molly, happily, had never known the long-con- 
 tinued, wearing cares that lead to this condition. 
 She knew grief ; but worry was a stranger to 
 her, partly because her own temperament led 
 her to do the best she could, and what she could 
 not attain to, to leave unaccomplished. This 
 uncommon philosophy extended to her social life. 
 Never had she known a pang on account of be- 
 ing less well off or less well dressed than her 
 neighbors, nor would this feeling ever add a pin's 
 weight to her burdens. 
 
 But, although not overworked, her days were 
 well filled ; for her second servant was by no 
 means one to be left unwatched. Molly had 
 not dared, with new people in her house, to en- 
 gage a newly-landed girl ; and yet, when she 
 saw the result of a couple of years "in the
 
 184 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 country," she regretted that she had not risked 
 it. Marta was as good as a girl could be, and, 
 as she was a fair cook and devoted to the chil- 
 dren, Molly preferred to look to her for aid with 
 them when not busy in the kitchen, and with the 
 help of Molly's deft hands, Marta had plenty of 
 time to be almost as good as a nurse. 
 
 Molly's daily routine was something as fol- 
 lows : she wrote over-night her orders for break- 
 fast, which Marta cooked, while Delia prepared 
 the dining-room, did the hall work, steps, etc. 
 Molly, immediately after her own toilet, always 
 went down-stairs, not to do anything, but to see 
 that all was going on well. She knew that the 
 certainty of her presence in the kitchen at a 
 quarter to seven o'clock would do very much to 
 keep things going straight. Having looked 
 around, seen that all was right, or setting it 
 right if wrong, she went up-stairs, washed Meg 
 and John, who were at present bathed over- 
 night, and gave little Kate her bath. Meg, who 
 was able to dress herself with very little aid, 
 and help John, would "run a race with mamma," 
 as to whether she or Kate would be dressed 
 first. This was a very happy half-hour for 
 Molly. The children's pranks were amusing; 
 but, most of all, Meg's tricks to attract Molly's 
 attention, and so hinder her that she, herself, 
 might finish first ; and her screams of laughter
 
 CUEESE CAKES. COLD MEAT PIE. 185 
 
 when she thought she had succeeded in her tac- 
 tics never failed in bringing a similar response 
 from Molly. 
 
 The breakfast, as yet, did not include hot 
 cakes ; so that, when it was cooked, Marta could 
 leave the kitchen and give the children their 
 breakfast in the little room Molly had appropri- 
 ated for the purpose. One of the chief objec- 
 tions to a family boarding she had always consid- 
 ered to be the injury to children from sitting at a 
 boarding-house table, and she could not consider 
 it would be less in her own house. Her first 
 care, therefore, was that her children should be 
 brought up as privately as possible, without the 
 hurtful influences of hearing older people's talk 
 and comments. This she meant to accomplish, 
 and, with the assistance of her trusty Marta, she 
 found it easy. 
 
 The breakfast consisted of some form of por- 
 ridge or mush, and either muffins, corn-bread, 
 rolls, or biscuits, and one kind of meat, either 
 chops, liver and bacon, ham and eggs, steak, 
 veal cutlet (when some little dish would have 
 been prepared for Mrs. Tomes), sausages, or fish. 
 One or other of these dishes was provided every 
 morning. Hash, with eggs, was occasionally 
 given for breakfast ; but, because of the preju- 
 dice against this excellent dish, it was rarely 
 introduced. Mock terrapin took its place in
 
 186 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 using up cold meat as cold weather came, and 
 was much liked and looked upon as something 
 very superior ; it really cost no more than hash, 
 except that it took more time to prepare it. But 
 Molly's friends will long since have known that 
 she had learned to look on time as money, and to 
 coin it into money that is to say, twenty-five 
 cents' worth of meat and half an hour's time 
 would be as good as fifty cents' worth of meat 
 and ten minutes' time. As good ! how very 
 much better ? only those who have tried can 
 know. So cold meat and Molly's time and 
 not much of it, either made mock terrapin, 
 while the same cold meat and half the time 
 would have made hash and a discontented house. 
 Potatoes, in one form or other, were always 
 on the table, and fruit preceded the breakfast. 
 When melons were moderate in price, Molly 
 bought those ; otherwise, as long as peaches 
 were plentiful, she provided them. One rule 
 she had soon laid down for herself ; that was, to 
 market exactly as she would for her own family. 
 If peaches were dear, she would have to buy in- 
 ferior steak, or less in quantity, if she put them 
 on the table ; therefore, she would have ice-cold 
 baked apples. At first, as we have seen, Molly 
 had thought she must give people what they ex- 
 pected to have; but a week's experience with 
 Mrs. Tomes cured her of that.
 
 CHEESE CAKES. COLD MEAT PIE. 187 
 
 Her son was eight years old, and the first 
 morning he announced to his mother, as he ate 
 his ice-cold peach for it was in attention to 
 such little matters that Molly hoped to excel ; 
 therefore, the fruit was kept on ice till the last 
 moment in a whisper, loud enough for all 
 to hear : 
 
 " I say, ma, this is a good deal better than 
 that other plaguy old place. Hope they don't 
 have" 
 
 At this point, no doubt, a maternal warning 
 had beeir conveyed, and Molly could only won- 
 der what he hoped she " did not have." 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding that it was evident 
 fruit had not formed part of their breakfast un- 
 til now, Mrs. Tomes looked with a frown if 
 baked apples were presented to her when she 
 expected melon or peaches, and those two fruits 
 were both too expensive at this season to buy ; 
 and also, on a perfectly broiled chop being 
 placed before her after she had been a few days 
 in the house, she said to the waitress : 
 
 " Is there nothing else ? I don't care for 
 chop." 
 
 Delia had been told in such a case to say that 
 there was cold ham (or whatever might be the 
 meat on hand) or eggs. 
 
 With a discontented look, Mrs. Tomes took 
 the chop.
 
 188 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 Now, Molly did not have twice in one week 
 the same kind of meat, and Mrs. Tomes had 
 expressed herself as very fond of chops and 
 steaks so much so that Molly had feared that 
 it would be difficult to cater for her, for she had 
 remarked in her experience that there are none 
 so difficult to provide for satisfactorily as your 
 " plain roast and boiled " people, and who like 
 nothing but steak, chop, and roast beef. 
 
 In after years Molly, looking back on this 
 year of effort, considered that the hardest trial 
 she had had to bear was the discontent of peo- 
 ple who were not satisfied to live in some one 
 else's house as they would have done in their 
 own ; who, in fact, in their own homes, for the 
 same money, would have lived much less luxuri- 
 ously and well ; yet, because they were board- 
 ing, wanted the variety of a third-class hotel, 
 instead of appreciating the fine quality, the 
 excellent cooking, and the small perfections of 
 a private, well-kept house, which are almost in- 
 variably absent from the average boarding-house, 
 and which are only attainable by unvarying at- 
 tention on the part of the landlady trifles 
 that cost nothing, but which every boarder 
 knows the lack of. These trifles, Molly decided, 
 should not be neglected in her house. 
 
 " No wonder," she thought, " women who take 
 boarders get discouraged, and care only to pro- 
 vide routine meals ! "
 
 DETAILS OF MOLLY'S MANAGEMENT. 189 
 
 Nevertheless, Molly did not allow herself to 
 be discouraged. This was perhaps because, al- 
 though Mrs. Tomes was a thorn, Mr. Tomes, 
 after they had been in the house a few weeks, 
 expressed hearty satisfaction, and youthful Mrs. 
 Foy, who had boarded very much before her 
 marriage, said, as a convincing proof of her ap- 
 probation : 
 
 "I don't believe I shall ever care to keep 
 house, Mrs. Bishop, so long as I can board with 
 you. Mr. Foy agrees with me in thinking this 
 is just the most home-like way of living. At 
 least, if we keep house, we will build near, and 
 come to you for meals, if you will let us ; for I 
 confess I do want a dear little box of a house of 
 my own." 
 
 Molly laughed. 
 
 " If I succeed, you may do so, and one thing 
 that will help me to succeed is just such encour- 
 aging appreciation ; and I am very much obliged 
 to you for letting me know you are satisfied." 
 
 " Satisfied ! I should think we would be 
 hard to please if we were not. But I wanted to 
 ask you something. Mr. Foy has two friends 
 who think they would like to come out here for 
 the rest of the fall ; but we did not know 
 whether you would care for transient boarders." 
 
 " While my rooms stand empty, I shall be 
 only too glad," said Molly.
 
 190 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 They came; and it may be said here that, al- 
 though they only stayed to see the last of the 
 autumn leaves, they were so pleased that the 
 next spring they bespoke the first vacancy Molly 
 might have. 
 
 But all this is a digression from Molly's rou- 
 tine of daily work, in which we got no farther 
 than the breakfast. 
 
 After leaving the table, Molly went to the 
 pantry to see what had been removed from it, 
 for she had given orders that all food left should 
 not be taken to the kitchen until she had seen 
 it. (For the kitchen breakfast she always made 
 separate arrangements.) There was not often 
 much left, for Molly satisfied herself with pro- 
 viding plenty without the waste of having much 
 cold food to warm over ; but on mornings when 
 eggs were provided, there would be sometimes 
 two or three left, and Molly knew servants well 
 enough to be sure that any other but Marta 
 would throw them away, and never dream of put- 
 ting them to use ; also, any small bit of meat 
 would be considered not worth saving, although 
 they would not perhaps have wasted a large 
 piece. The eggs would boil hard for salad or 
 other purposes. Molly would give orders what 
 was to be done with the various things, and then 
 would go to market in Greenfield at present, 
 although in colder weather she intended to go t.o
 
 DETAILS OF MOLLTS MANAGEMENT. 191 
 
 Fulton Market for supplies, because of the va- 
 riety to be obtained there, and because she knew 
 that in large markets there were times when cer- 
 tain articles, usually very dear, were quite 
 cheap. Thus game, salmon, and choice poultry, 
 which, when to be had at all in Greenfield, were 
 always about a dead level in price for each sea- 
 son, were often to be found at prices which 
 made them almost as cheap as butcher's meat. 
 
 It is true that Molly did not feel equal to 
 marketing profitably at a large city market ; al- 
 though she was an unusually good judge of meat, 
 poultry, and vegetables, she was a stranger to 
 the ways of the markets, and the terms for some 
 things differed from her own, as they do, in- 
 deed, in each city ; and she decided before she 
 undertook that phase of her housekeeping to 
 take lessons in marketing. She might not learn 
 much as to meat and provisions, but she would 
 learn the ways of the place. She knew that to 
 seem uninformed in this, as in other matters, is 
 to lay yourself open to imposition, or to ridicule 
 if you refuse to be imposed upon. 
 
 In her present marketing, however, she ad- 
 hered to the principle which had guided her in 
 her own housekeeping that is, to take care 
 that one day's expenses balance the other. For 
 instance, she might decide to buy rather an ex- 
 pensive article, such as young ducks or spring
 
 192 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 chickens, which would cost beyond the limit she 
 had laid down as her average, and if she pur- 
 chased once or twice a week like this, and al- 
 lowed her usual dinner bills to be up to the aver- 
 age on other days, she would have been a consid- 
 erable loser in the end, or else had " skimpy " 
 days ; but, instead of that, the day she had been 
 extravagant was always followed by one on 
 which the dinner cost less than the average, as, 
 for instance, instead of following it with roast 
 beef, she would have braised beef or a leg of 
 mutton. The same with desserts. Once a week 
 or so, she would indulge in Nesselrode pudding 
 or ice-cream bombe ; but by the end of the week 
 her expenses were balanced by her spending a 
 little extra time and making less expensive des- 
 serts. But she often was amused to find that 
 the dessert costing, perhaps, twenty-five to forty 
 cents was as much enjoyed as those costing 
 double. 
 
 Upon her return from the market, Molly, 
 after removing her things, went through each 
 room to see if the beds were nicely made, the 
 ewers washed and filled, and that nothing had 
 been neglected that ought to be done. The 
 mere fact of Delia knowing she would do this 
 made her more careful to neglect nothing. 
 This daily visiting became more necessary when 
 fires came into use. After this inspection she
 
 DETAILS OF MOLLY'S MANAGEMENT. 193 
 
 prepared the children to go out, and in these 
 early days either Delia or Marta took them. 
 Little Kate had to be taken in her carriage, 
 and the two elder ones went with her. The rest 
 of the day Meg and John amused themselves 
 out of doors. 
 
 Molly then went to the kitchen and prepared 
 dessert or pastry, made all arrangements possi- 
 ble at that hour for dinner, and attended to the 
 lunch. She knew that in many a good boarding- 
 house the luncheon, because there are only la- 
 dies to partake of it, is often a scrappy meal 
 odds and ends of cold meat, a few pickles, or 
 beets and potatoes. 
 
 Instead of this kind of meal Molly knew it 
 would not cost more than twenty-five cents extra 
 to have something they might enjoy. If there 
 was cold ham or corned beef in the house, then 
 she would buy a couple of nice crisp lettuce, 
 have hot biscuit made, and with some good cake 
 she considered the luncheon a very appetizing 
 one, with cocoa or chocolate for those who pre- 
 ferred it to tea. But when the meat was cold 
 veal or mutton, or even roast beef, it was made 
 into one of the appended savory dishes, and 
 Molly reckoned the five cents' worth of stock 
 used to heat them in was about all the extra ex- 
 pense. Sometimes on chilly days a nice clam 
 or other soup preceded the lunch. While the
 
 194 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 party remained small, instead of having lunch 
 on the large dining table, Molly had the leaves 
 of the side table extended, a small table cloth 
 spread, and the luncheon served on it ; in fact, she 
 did everything possible to avoid the conventional 
 appearance of the boarding-house lunch, and 
 trifling as such things may seem they made 
 themselves felt. Generally the dish for lunch- 
 eon could be watched while Molly attended to 
 other things, made her wares for the Exchange 
 or dessert for dinner. 
 
 After lunch Molly attended to her children, 
 planned clothes, or saw friends till four, when 
 down to the kitchen she went, saw that all was 
 going on toward dinner, prepared anything that 
 might be necessary, and when she had assured 
 herself that if there was to be roast meat the 
 oven was hot enough to brown it quickly so that 
 there would be no gray or sodden joint at din- 
 ner time, and that Marta had all her instruc- 
 tions well in her mind, she would leave the 
 kitchen for another hour, and then go down to 
 remain until the dinner was cooked, so much 
 depended on that hour. If she was there the 
 vegetables would each be put on the fire at the 
 proper time and boil in the right way. If she 
 were absent, they might be over boiled and come 
 too sodden to table. Scarcely even at a first- 
 rate hotel are the vegetables properly prepared,
 
 DETAILS OF MOLLY'S MANAGEMENT. 195 
 
 as Molly well knew, and she had resolved not 
 only would she buy choice ones (that is to say 
 she chose only such as were in their prime), but 
 she was determined that each should go on to 
 the table in the best condition ; and it is quite 
 safe to say that some who ate them so did it for 
 the first time. Then the gravy and sauces she 
 gave her personal attention to. 
 
 One of her theories was that a good but inex- 
 pensive fish with a fine sauce was more appreci- 
 ated than an expensive one with ordinary sauce ; 
 therefore, fine cod with oyster sauce, or haddock 
 with Dutch sauce, were often part of the bill of 
 fare. But these sauces Molly hardly trusted to 
 Marta now that she had so many other dishes to 
 attend to, and when circumstances would prevent 
 her being on hand just before dinner to make 
 them she did so early, and left them to be heated 
 at the last in a hot water bath. 
 
 I have said already I can only indicate the 
 points on which Molly strove to improve on the 
 average boarding-house. I can only give such 
 details as will demonstrate that these points 
 were often not matters of expense, but only of 
 care ; but when money did form an item it was 
 so small, compared with the result, that she pre- 
 ferred to make money more slowly, and to know 
 that her table was entirely satisfactory. 
 
 At the same time she made no impossible at-
 
 196 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 tempt. She would, for instance, have liked to 
 have the pies always made of puff paste, or at 
 least the rough puff ; but this would not be possi- 
 ble if the family grew large, and she reserved 
 that for patties or occasions. For ordinary use 
 she made an excellent crust from the following 
 recipe : 
 
 PIE CRUST. Put one pound of flour in a bowl, 
 mix with it a teaspoonful of baking powder, whip 
 the whites of two eggs to a stiff foam, put them 
 in the centre of the flour with a scant saltspoon- 
 ful of salt, and make all into a stiff paste with 
 about half a cupful of water. Flour the board, 
 turn the paste on it, flour the rolling pin, roll 
 it out to a thin sheet. Divide half a pound of 
 butter into three parts. Take one, spread it in 
 little bits over the paste, dredge a little flour 
 over it, fold the paste in three, flour the rolling 
 pin again, roll out as before, and spread the sec- 
 ond part of the butter over it, dredge, fold, roll 
 again, then add the third portion of butter, fold 
 and roll again to the thickness for a pie, one 
 third of an inch. This pastry has to be baked 
 very quickly. 
 
 The cake, although generally some form of the 
 " One, two, three, four " cake, yet by Molly's 
 knowledge of the effect of five cents' worth of 
 wine, or half that value of some uncommon 
 blending of flavors, made the commonplace seem
 
 DETAILS OF MOLLY'S MANAGEMENT. 197 
 
 very far from it. Macaroons and other dainty 
 cakes replaced the too frequent ginger snaps and 
 cookies, and were less trouble. Because as she 
 made them herself they cost barely thirty cents 
 a pound. 
 
 Of course, soup was used almost daily. As a 
 rule, it alternated with fish to precede the din- 
 ner ; but sometimes Molly felt she could afford 
 to have both, by using the less expensive kinds 
 of soup, such as tomato cream soup, green pea 
 soup (made from American canned peas), or 
 cream of celery made from the coarser white 
 branches of celery and the roots grated. 
 
 I give here a few recipes by which Molly gave 
 economical variety to her table. If the reader 
 will count up in her own mind how very few 
 dishes (out of the hundreds that are in cook 
 books) go to make up our daily fare, it will be 
 seen that even half a dozen not usually used 
 will add very much to a housekeeper's resources. 
 One recipe which she had was a very favorite 
 way of warming over cold meat. 
 
 LUNCHEON DISHES. Make a sauce with a 
 large tablespoonful of chopped onion fried yel- 
 low in one ounce of butter. Stir into this a ta- 
 blespoonful of flour, neither heaping full nor 
 level, but slightly rounding. Let them cook to- 
 gether a few seconds, stirring all the time ; pour 
 to it a good half cup of boiling stock ; stir till it
 
 198 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 boils, and one minute longer. Remove from the 
 fire, and beat to it one egg ; the yolk alone will 
 do if you have use for the white. Season with 
 a scant half teaspoonful of salt, and the sixth of 
 one of pepper. Butter a dish, cover each slice 
 of meat thickly with the sauce, and lay it on the 
 dish taking care they do not touch. When all 
 are done set the dish on the ice. When cold dip 
 each slice (which must be removed from the dish 
 so as not to disturb the coating of sauce) in egg 
 beaten with a tablespoonful of water, then in 
 cracker crumbs, leaving a large quantity on a 
 dish so that each slice can be smothered. When 
 all the slices are crumbed, put a dripping pan on 
 the stove with some nice beef dripping, let it get 
 very hot, lay the meat in it, and put it a few min- 
 utes in a very hot oven just to brown the sur- 
 face. These slices of meat may be dropped into 
 deep boiling fat and fried brown. When done 
 with, the cracker crumbs can be sifted and re- 
 turned to the jar for future use ; if not sifted 
 they may spoil. 
 
 PIE OF COLD MEAT. This dish was only unu- 
 sual as being better than the insipid one usually 
 offered under that name. Slices of cold meat 
 were laid in a dish, a little flour, salt, and pepper 
 sprinkled over each layer until full, and then 
 stock boiled down from a pint to half a pint 
 poured over it, a crust put over, a hole cut in the 
 centre, some little ornament to cover it, the
 
 DETAILS OF MOLLY'S MANAGEMENT. 199 
 
 whole brushed over with beaten egg, and baked 
 one hour. 
 
 MEAT FRITTERS. Cold meat chopped fine, 
 about an inch of boiled ham chopped with it (if 
 liked), soften a tablespoonful of gelatine in a 
 little stock or cold soup, melt a tablespoonful of 
 butter in a small saucepan, add a tablespoonful 
 of flour, stir them together over the fire till they 
 bubble, make a scant cupful of stock hot, and 
 stir the softened gelatine into it ; when dissolved 
 pour it to the butter and flour, stirring till it 
 boils. When the sauce is smooth and thick, put 
 to it the chopped meat (about a pint to this 
 quantity), season with a small teaspoonful of 
 salt and a quarter one of pepper, and from one 
 to two teaspoonfuls of lemon juice. Taste be- 
 fore adding it, and when you find the flavor just 
 changed, without being at all sour, put in no 
 more. The seasoning must be rather high. 
 When the mixture has all become hot together, 
 without boiling after the meat is added, spread 
 it out on a dish to get cold. It will then cut 
 firm. 
 
 So far this recipe may seem troublesome, but 
 it is little more so than properly made hash, 
 where the onion has to be fried. The chopping 
 is the same, and the sauce is not more trouble 
 than frying the onion. If you have stock strong 
 enough to jelly the gelatine is not required. 
 
 When the fritters are to be made make a
 
 200 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 thick batter of a scant cupful of milk, one of 
 flour, two eggs, and a saltspoonful of salt, no bak- 
 ing powder. Make a dessertspoonful of the 
 meat mixture into balls, have a quantity of lard 
 smoking hot in a frying kettle, drop each ball 
 into a tablespoonful of batter, which turn care- 
 fully into the boiling fat. This quantity will 
 make a dozen and a half of fritters. While 
 Molly's family at lunch was so small she would 
 make half one day and leave the rest for cro- 
 quettes another. 
 
 CROQUETTES are made exactly as above, 
 whether of cold meat or chicken, or lobster, so 
 far as the preparation goes ; the difference is in 
 the final cooking. Make the meat mixture into 
 cork shapes (not larger than a cork), roll each 
 in beaten egg, then into cracker crumbs, taking 
 care every part is covered. These must be 
 dropped into fat so hot that they are yellow 
 brown in two minutes. Take them up and drain 
 on coarse paper, then serve. 
 
 Now croquettes made of cold meat are too 
 often merely hash balls, which crumble to pieces 
 under the fork ; excellent things under their own 
 modest name, but unwelcome when they are 
 served as croquettes, which you expect to be 
 creamy when broken. Molly was able to pre- 
 vent her boarders having this disappointment 
 with less than ten cents extra expense for each 
 day's luncheon. Sometimes she indulged them
 
 DETAILS OF MOLLTS MANAGEMENT. 201 
 
 still more, for if she happened to be making 
 pies and there was a piece of dough as large 
 as her own small fist left over, she would roll it 
 out very thin, cut it into squares four inches by 
 three, lay a bit of the fritter mixture on each, 
 forming it into a finger or thin sausage, then 
 would lap over one side the paste, moisten the 
 upper surface, then fold the other side the paste 
 to meet it and overlap half an inch. The 
 ends were closed, and when they were brushed 
 over with milk, if there was no remnant of egg, 
 they were baked a pale brown. 
 
 Women will eat without grumbling very mis- 
 erable lunches, provided the dinner is fair ; but 
 no one appreciates a dainty midday meal more 
 than the woman with so little appetite that she 
 cares very little if she eats or not, and does so 
 more from habit than inclination. Very many 
 women are like this. 
 
 Sometimes for variety Molly would have a 
 can of lobster (which while much cheaper than 
 fresh is excellent for cooking), and make lobster 
 croquettes of one part and scalloped lobster of 
 the other. 
 
 It will be observed that in the recipes given, 
 and those that follow, stock is always used in- 
 stead of water. This was one of the secrets of 
 Molly's table, an open secret to all good cooks, 
 but so little heeded by the general that it was 
 never guessed. In the first place, it was a great
 
 202 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 economy. Of course, with soup several times a 
 week there was no difficulty in having half a 
 pint of stock always on hand, and in a family of 
 half a dozen persons the bones of meat with 
 proper vegetables to flavor would alone have suf- 
 ficed ; but had this not been the case Molly would 
 have considered it true economy to buy meat 
 solely for the purpose. Twenty-five cents' worth 
 of soup meat would make stock enough for gra- 
 vies for a week. 
 
 Cold meat has parted with the greater part of 
 its own gravy ; if warmed over with water it is 
 tasteless unless very cleverly cooked. Warmed 
 with good soup for gravy the meat is even bet- 
 ter than fresh meat for many purposes. There- 
 fore it was that those who did not like warmed- 
 over meat till they lived with Mrs. Bishop did 
 not guess they were eating it, so different was 
 it from what they had known. 
 
 Let any skeptic who doubts try mince or hash 
 or stew, and use not water, but good stock ; not 
 broth of meat or bones and simple water, but 
 well flavored with vegetables, such as would be 
 good palatable soup if served at table, and then 
 taking care that the meat never boils but steeps 
 at boiling point in the ready thickened sauce ; 
 and then consider if such dishes are not worth 
 five cents (and a very little trouble) more than 
 the tasteless ones she has been accustomed to as- 
 sociate with warmed-over meat.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 PROGRESS. EXCHANGE GOSSIP. 
 
 ORDERS came in very plentifully now from 
 the Woman's Exchange. Mrs. Tomes was 
 greatly surprised. She had been very incredu- 
 lous of any one succeeding, for a friend of her 
 own had sent various articles to the Exchange, 
 but they were returned stale on her hands. An- 
 other had seen her own articles neglected and 
 others, not so good, put forward ; and still an- 
 other had gone there and been discouraged by 
 being told nothing was needed; that she was 
 welcome to leave what she liked, but they did 
 not seem sanguine of success in selling her 
 wares. All this Molly listened to ; she had 
 heard the same things before. She had known 
 instances which seemed to corroborate them, and 
 yet her own reception at the Exchange and 
 her experience had been very pleasant ! 
 With regard to the first complaint (that articles 
 were returned unsold) she felt that the mana- 
 gers might be less to blame than the consignor, 
 for she had herself seen things there which she
 
 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 certainly would not have bought ; and, most 
 likely, such articles would go back to the mak- 
 ers, to their great surprise and discouragement. 
 One lady connected with the direction had said : 
 
 " We have a great struggle. Ladies subscribe 
 on purpose to help their less fortunate friends, 
 who bring to us articles that are unsalable be- 
 cause they are not perfect. But the consignor 
 can't see that they are not just as good as can be 
 bought. They want full prices for their wares, 
 and, when they do not sell, they are sure there 
 is favoritism." 
 
 " Then there is another trouble with women, 
 they are so unpunctual," this same directress had 
 said. " A lady came to us in whom I was very 
 much interested. She was evidently in great 
 need, and anxious to turn her abilities to account. 
 I asked what she could make, and among other 
 things she mentioned gumbo file, a dish which 
 I was sure would find ready sale if properly 
 made : if people only knew of it. To give it a 
 fair chance, I told her to make a good deal. I 
 invited half a dozen Southern friends to lunch 
 with me at the Exchange on the day she ap- 
 pointed to send the dish. I knew that if they 
 found they could buy their favorite gumbo file 
 ready prepared in New York there would be a 
 large sale for it at once. 
 
 " Well, my friends came faithfully, but the
 
 PROGRESS. EXCHANGE GOSSIP. 205 
 
 gumbo did not. It came the next day, however, 
 at the promised hour, with regrets that for un- 
 foreseen reasons the consignor had been unable 
 to send it the day before. Of course," said the 
 speaker, " her chance had gone, and yet, I sup- 
 pose, she might have been as successful as Mrs. 
 X. had she been punctual and her gumbo good," 
 (mentioning a lady who makes an excellent 
 living, and employs several assistants, only mak- 
 ing rolls) " and then, because I invited a few 
 friends to give her specialty a start, it would be 
 said by those for whom I had not done this that 
 I had favored her." 
 
 Molly, therefore, had listened to Mrs. Tomes 
 with respect, knowing that each person who re- 
 lated her experience had believed what she said, 
 and that probably the truth lay between them 
 all. One does not need to live many years in 
 the world to learn how rare it is to find any 
 one who can look on matters impartially. How 
 rare are the women, or men, who can see that 
 the cause of their own failure lies with them- 
 selves ! Who can say to herself, " My work is 
 not up to the mark, and therefore I don't suc- 
 ceed " ? or, " I was not in time ; that 's why I 
 lost the chance " ? And Molly could picture to 
 herself the lady who sent the gumbo a day too 
 late for the luncheon given for her benefit, be- 
 lieving that she had been ill-treated by having
 
 206 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 so much gumbo ordered and returned on her 
 hands, and that the Exchange gave one no 
 chance " unless you were a favorite." 
 
 Molly's own success, however, had not been 
 due to favoritism, and she began to see that she 
 would be obliged soon to choose between the 
 boarding-house and the Exchange. The Mrs. 
 X. of whom she had heard supported herself in 
 comfort, and employed four assistants ; in fact, 
 was making as good an income as Molly would 
 do with her boarders. But she rather feared to 
 trust that her own success would be so complete 
 as that ; yet, very certainly, if her house became 
 full, she could not do justice to both. Some- 
 thing of this sort she said to Mrs. Lennox. 
 
 "You are a lucky woman, Molly, to have a 
 choice of two roads to success ! But I was think- 
 ing it would be so, and I will now say to you 
 something which I have been thinking of. If 
 you do not like the idea, or have other plans, 
 forget what I am going to propose. You know 
 Jenny helps Mary in her green-house, indeed, 
 one alone could hardly manage it ; yet Jenny 
 feels that she ought to do something for herself, 
 and I thought that if she could help you with 
 your cooking, she would be learning, and, as she 
 has quite a taste that way, she might perfect 
 herself in one or two things you make ; there- 
 fore, if you do stop sending articles to the Ex- 
 change, she might continue."
 
 PROGRESS.- EXCHANGE GOSSIP. 207 
 
 Mrs. Lennox spoke with hesitation, but Molly 
 quickly reassured her. 
 
 "Why, Mrs. Lennox! I am so glad that 
 you suggested this, for I was wishing, if I could 
 not do the two things properly without killing 
 myself, that some one might benefit by the 
 chance. Jenny never occurred to me, but she 
 will be just the one." 
 
 Mrs. Lennox was very grateful to Molly, who 
 assured her that the help Jenny would be just 
 now to her enabling her to earn the welcome 
 money from the Exchange until her house should 
 be full of boarders made the obligation hers ; 
 for Jenny was so bright and so earnest that it 
 took her a very short time to make " rough puff 
 paste" just as Molly made it, and macaroons 
 were learned in a couple of lessons. Now that 
 she had such efficient assistance, Molly purposely 
 enlarged the list of articles she sent away, and 
 made pound cake and nun's cake, in order that 
 Jenny might have a better chance later.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MOLLY'S SUCCESS. HOW WON. HER CHIL- 
 DREN'S EDUCATION. 
 
 IN the last chapter I have somewhat antici- 
 pated matters, for Molly had her house two 
 months before she began to see that the orders 
 from the Exchange were growing beyond her ; 
 but, no doubt, the reader will like to learn how 
 she came out at the end of the first month finan- 
 cially. It will be remembered that she had 
 eighty dollars after paying for fuel, rent, milk, 
 and servants. She found that her housekeeping 
 expenses were as follows : 
 
 Grocer, including flour and all sundries . $20.00 
 
 Butter (20 pounds at 28 cents) . . . 5.60 
 
 Eggs (10 dozen at 25 cents) .... 2,50 
 
 Fruit and vegetables 10.00 
 
 Butcher, including fish 35.00 
 
 Sundry expenses 5.00 
 
 Gas 5.00 
 
 $83.10 
 The wages of the laundress Molly did not
 
 MOLLY'S SUCCESS. 209 
 
 count, for the laundry was actually a business by 
 itself, and Molly meant to reckon her profit and 
 loss (she did not fear the last) on that account 
 as separate. The boarders' washing almost paid 
 the wages now, and did not take more than half 
 the week. The laundress had nothing but the 
 washing to do until it was finished, when, as 
 agreed, she lent a hand in various ways. But 
 with the house full of people, her time would be 
 fully employed, and her board as well as wages 
 would be more than paid, and the house laundry 
 work would also be done without interrupting 
 the cook. If she became as successful as she 
 hoped, there might be too much work for one 
 laundress, and then, of course, she would hire a 
 woman to help by the day. She could not but 
 feel that her future, by these figures, was very 
 promising. She had fully expected to have to 
 make up a larger sum, and was delighted at the 
 smallness of the deficiency. She knew she had 
 catered liberally, and that the two transient 
 boarders who were coming the next month 
 would cover the deficiency. She saw that with 
 six boarders she would be able to pay all ex- 
 penses, but she would make nothing but her own 
 and her children's comfortable support (which 
 is already making a great deal), she acknowl- 
 edged. If she should be able to save ever so 
 little outside of this, she would think herself a
 
 210 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 very fortunate woman. Of course, a month 
 later, her coal bill would double, and before 
 midwinter, it would cost four times what it did 
 at present. The gas, too, would greatly in- 
 crease ; but two more boarders would go far to 
 pay the difference. 
 
 But the time came, not many months later, 
 when Molly had a dozen boarders, and then she 
 did find herself with money to put away ; and as 
 she could always have had more boarders if she 
 had been able to receive them, she had no losses 
 from vacancies. 
 
 As soon as Jenny Lennox was able to make 
 one article for the Exchange perfectly, Molly re- 
 signed the making of it and the proceeds to her. 
 In this way, at the end of six months, Jenny 
 had a business in her hands which would go on 
 increasing so long as she kept her productions 
 up to the required standard. Molly had gradu- 
 ally dropped it as she ceased to need the few 
 extra dollars. 
 
 Jenny Lennox has not made a fortune 
 through the Exchange, but she has and does 
 make more than she could in any other way 
 without leaving home, without capital, and with- 
 out employing all her time. She clothes herself, 
 and assists the narrow income of the family. 
 
 And now we can only glance at the next fif- 
 teen years of Molly's life, during which her
 
 MOLLY'S SUCCESS. 211 
 
 children grew toward manhood and womanhood. 
 Molly had prospered meanwhile by dint of faith- 
 ful hard work. Not by any means easy had 
 been those years of prosperity, but Molly had 
 braced herself to encounter difficulties, and to 
 endure annoyances. The battle of life she knew 
 was not to be won by sitting in soft places. She 
 encountered suspicion and injustice and discon- 
 tent where she knew she ought only to have met 
 with grateful confidence, and yet the sweet ap- 
 preciation she also met with more than balanced 
 it all. But the most exasperating hardship of 
 her life was caused by the difficulty of finding 
 faithful service. 
 
 Her difficulty began when she felt it due to 
 herself to take a cook. She needed more time 
 for marketing and housekeeping, as her board- 
 ers increased, and she began her quest. She 
 wanted a competent person for plain cooking, 
 and expected to pay good wages. Every house- 
 keeper will know what befell Molly. The com- 
 petent person with reference was engaged at 
 twenty dollars a month, and a promise from 
 Molly that if she found her valuable after six 
 months to raise her to twenty-five, " because," 
 she reasoned, " a really economical, good woman 
 in the kitchen will be priceless to me, and the 
 five dollars extra will be nothing, for she will 
 save it."
 
 212 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 Alas for Molly ! She found the young woman 
 actually knew no more of cooking than the aver- 
 age general servant. She could broil steak 
 badly, roast meat the same, and make a vile pie. 
 Because the cook was bad, Molly had no notion 
 that her boarders must suffer, so she resumed her 
 place in the kitchen. On the arrival of the cook 
 she had given the children to Marta's care, who 
 was devoted to them, and she could not recall 
 Marta to her aid, for the new cook was not 
 cleanly enough to change places with her. 
 Therefore, for one month, Molly paid cook's 
 wages to a woman who simply helped her in the 
 kitchen, she herself doing the work. This 
 seemed outrageous, but Molly learned that it 
 was really not so very bad, compared with later 
 experience, for the woman was good natured and 
 respectful. She intimated, of course, that 
 Molly's views were peculiar to herself, that 
 everywhere else her cooking was thought good. 
 The next experiment was far worse. Molly had 
 sought far and wide, walked between aisles of 
 hard-featured, unclean, disreputable looking 
 women, all cooks, out of place, looking vainly 
 for one of good face and respectable attire that 
 she would be willing to introduce into her house. 
 There did seem to be respectable waitresses, 
 nurses, chamber maids, but no cooks. 
 
 At last, in despair, knowing she must have a
 
 MOLLY'S SUCCESS. 213 
 
 cook, she engaged the least truculent looking 
 Hibernian she could find. She had a year's 
 reference. 
 
 Molly went on the principle that unless you 
 give a woman a chance to show what she can do, 
 by leaving her uuinterfered with for the first 
 day or two, you can't tell what is in her. There- 
 fore she gave her orders for breakfast as usual 
 over night: hominy, graham muffins, broiled 
 chops, fried potatoes. The potatoes were cold 
 ones, which Molly usually had cut half an inch 
 thick, floured, seasoned, and then fried, or rather 
 sauted in fat till yellow brown one side, then 
 turned and browned the other. They then 
 made a handsome dish of fried potatoes. Molly 
 paid her usual visit to the kitchen before seven, 
 found the fire black, not yet burned up, and not 
 likely to burn, being full of fresh coals. 
 
 "Why, Bridget, we shall never have break- 
 fast on time, I 'm afraid," said Molly. 
 
 " Och an' don't you worry, ma'am ; I was niver 
 late wid a breakfast yet." 
 
 Bridget caught up an apron full of sticks as 
 she spoke, and was proceeding to jab them down 
 through the coals. 
 
 " No, Bridget, that will not help you at all. 
 The mistake is in building the fire ; you have 
 not allowed the wood to burn sufficiently, for it is 
 still black and smouldering underneath, and then
 
 214 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 you put on all the coal at once. To-morrow if 
 you will make first a good wood fire by letting 
 it half burn through, then put on a few coals at 
 a time, you will find that by seven o'clock you 
 will have the kettle boiling and a hot oven." 
 
 While Molly spoke she took off the coals till 
 she came to the wood, which was already starting 
 up into fresh flames from the air let into it, then 
 she put on the lids, and said, " Now, Bridget, I 
 leave you to get breakfast. It will be too late 
 this morning for muffins, but if you put more 
 coal on when this has burnt bright, you will find 
 that the fire will be ready for broiling before 
 you need it." 
 
 Bridget had hitherto said nothing, but now 
 turned as Molly left the kitchen, and said, with 
 a laugh, " As if I naded any one to tache me to 
 make a fire ! I that 's cooked for the best av 
 families for twenty years." 
 
 Molly wisely refrained from noticing this 
 speech, but she concluded Bridget was not 
 likely to be an improvement on the last cook, 
 unless, indeed, her abilities should prove such as 
 to justify her in resenting interference. 
 
 When breakfast was served her doubts were 
 settled. The potatoes, instead of being fried as 
 she directed, had been chopped and fried in cool 
 grease ; they were, consequently, grayish-white, 
 familiar enough to those who have been de-
 
 MOLLY'S SUCCESS. 215 
 
 pendent on the average boarding-house cook, 
 but very distasteful to Molly. The chops black- 
 ened every plate on which they were put, and 
 the hominy, which Molly was sure could not be 
 sufficiently done, was really cooked to a paste. 
 She could not understand how this had been 
 managed until she began to eat, when she de- 
 tected at once a slight taste of baking soda, and 
 then she remembered hearing a woman say she 
 was going to make a chicken pot-pie, after gos- 
 siping her morning away. 
 
 " But you 've only three quarters of an hour. 
 How can you make pot-pie. The chickens will 
 need much longer ? " 
 
 " Oh, pshaw ! Just slap a little carbonate of 
 soda in with them, and they '11 be tender." 
 (Molly had partaken of the pot-pie at the given 
 time ; it was flat and bad as a pot-pie could be, 
 but the chickens were almost too tender.) Un- 
 doubtedly her own cook had resorted to the 
 soda-box to soften the hominy. 
 
 After this, Molly resolved to trust no more to 
 her new cook. For a few days she managed, by 
 convenient deafness, and by seeing to everything 
 herself, to get along, Bridget constantly mutter- 
 ing " that she had cooked twenty years for mil- 
 lionaires, and it was strange she could n't do it 
 for a lot of common boarders." 
 
 To be sure, the millionaires had not had such
 
 216 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 "fusses and messes" as Molly wanted; they had 
 " plenty of good meat." To all of which pleasant 
 talk Molly paid no apparent heed. This woman 
 had to be in the house a month, and for such 
 mere expressions of opinion she could not be 
 discharged. Therefore, unless Molly wanted to 
 pay her a month's wages, and send her away at 
 once, she must avoid provoking any open in- 
 solence. 
 
 Therefore, though she had to be daily in the 
 kitchen, she got along for a* week, until one 
 morning she arranged the fire for baking before 
 going to market, and when she returned, ready 
 to make patties, which required a very hot oven, 
 she found all her arrangements changed, the 
 cover off, and a small saucepan set down on the 
 fire. 
 
 At this Molly's patience was nearly ex- 
 hausted. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! Bridget, the oven must be cold." 
 
 " Och, ye 've never enough fire in that stove 
 to make it hot. Yer can't have hot ovens widout 
 burning coals, that 's very sure." 
 
 It was this person's cue to treat Molly's in- 
 structions not to over-fill the fire-box with coal 
 as "stinginess," her own idea being to fill up 
 the stove until the coals reached the covers. 
 
 "But," said Molly, forcing herself to speak 
 gently, "you don't understand the management
 
 MOLLY'S SUCCESS. 217 
 
 of a range ; if you take off the covers the 
 heat " 
 
 " Och, an' indade I understand the range as 
 well as the man that made it, and better, may 
 be." 
 
 In this sentence lay the key to at least one 
 half the servant difficulty: the belief of the 
 densely ignorant that they need no teaching. 
 
 Just here, perhaps, I may as well give one of 
 the " messes " which I alluded to, a chapter or 
 two back, as a dish which became famous among 
 Molly's boarders, who little knew that it took 
 the place and cost little beyond the price 
 of the too prevalent hash. 
 
 MOCK TERRAPIN. A pint of nicely-flavored 
 broth, vegetable soup, or stock, whichever is 
 handy, and about two pounds of cold meat 
 (lamb, veal, mutton, or beef), cut in small, inch 
 squares, quite free from gristle or skin ; two 
 tablespoonfuls of butter, two of flour, and a 
 small cup of fine cider or sherry. (The soup 
 being already flavored will render other flavor- 
 ing unnecessary.) Put the butter and flour into 
 one saucepan over the fire; let the soup get 
 boiling hot in another ; stir the butter and flour 
 till they bubble ; pour the boiling soup to them, 
 quickly stirring all the time. This should now 
 look like smooth drawn-butter, slightly colored. 
 Let it boil one minute ; remove it from the fire
 
 218 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 to a spot where it will keep at boiling-point, but 
 not boil. (On this depends the success of the 
 dish, for, after the meat is in, it must steep at 
 boiling-point half an hour, but not boil; a 
 double boiler would make success certain.) 
 Lay the meat in with a level teaspoonful of salt 
 and a quarter one of pepper ; stir all round ; 
 then add a small teacupf ul (or two wineglassfuls) 
 of sherry or cider (cider will do instead of wine 
 for any unsweetened dish), and leave it half an 
 hour. Boil six or eight eggs quite hard (that 
 is, for twelve minutes), lay them in cold water, 
 to make the shells leave easily, remove the shells, 
 cut each egg in thick slices, and, when the meat 
 is done, pour the mock terrapin on a large platter, 
 and cover with the sliced eggs. Round the edge 
 of the dish, split pickled gherkins may be laid 
 at intervals, and served with it ; or cut lemon 
 can be handed around. 
 
 This is a very large dish. For three or four 
 persons one fourth the quantity can be made. 
 This dish wine, stock, and all did not cost 
 fifteen cents more than hash (that is, not one 
 cent to each person). As Molly never had hash, 
 without eggs to accompany it, the eggs used took 
 the place of them ; but the dish is excellent 
 without. 
 
 The words used by Bridget in the foregoing 
 conversation were less insolent than others Molly
 
 MOLLY'S SUCCESS. 219 
 
 had forced herself to ignore, but they, and the 
 vexation of finding her work delayed, were the 
 last straws. She resolved to sacrifice the rest 
 of the month's money rather than endure the 
 woman in the kitchen another hour, and within 
 the hour she left with twenty unearned dollars 
 in her pocket, and left the whole household with 
 light hearts that they were free of her. The 
 work without her vulgar presence seemed almost 
 like play. 
 
 From this time Molly gave up engaging so- 
 called " cooks." She found it better to take a 
 newly-landed girl, although she might have to 
 spend a couple of months in the kitchen with a 
 likely one. The unlikely she discharged as soon 
 as she discovered the uselessness of trying to 
 train her. The daily supervision after, of course, 
 practically made of Molly a sort of head cook 
 the greater part of the time (for, in fifteen years, 
 she had trained and lost several cooks) ; yet, on 
 the whole, she found her plan the best, for at 
 least she did not, for the first year, pay large 
 wages, and it was not such hard work to struggle 
 with the ignorance that knows itself, as to 
 struggle with the impudent ignorance that 
 believes itself knowledge. 
 
 Therefore I say, although they were cheerful, 
 prosperous years for Molly, they were years of 
 hard work.
 
 220 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 But of late, even this matter of engaging a 
 green girl was not an easy one. Castle Garden 
 is no longer what it was, for others have found 
 out the better value of the confessedly incom- 
 petent, and for every girl there are a dozen 
 places waiting. 
 
 The proper education of her children had 
 been a matter of the gravest thought and care. 
 Molly's idea of education was that it was better 
 for children to learn a few things well than 
 many imperfectly. She rather clung to the old- 
 fashioned notion that reading, writing, and 
 arithmetic should be mastered before other 
 branches were gone into. Reading seemed the 
 gateway to all knowledge, and if a child showed 
 a decided taste for any particular branch of 
 study every effort should be made to help it to 
 pursue that branch. It did not seem to her 
 and she studied the matter from its results on 
 girls who had gone through the usual high- 
 school course that the little bit they learned 
 of astronomy, physiology, geology, and half a 
 dozen other sciences, for the useful study of 
 which a lifetime is hardly too much, added any- 
 thing to their usefulness as women, or to their 
 pleasures. Not that the thorough study of any 
 one of these things would not have been a great 
 accomplishment, and she would have encouraged 
 to the utmost any inclinations to a special study
 
 MOLLY'S SUCCESS. 221 
 
 of any ism or logy her girls might have shown. 
 Her theory was that well-directed reading, that 
 is to say, historical reading, in which the refer- 
 ences were looked up ; travels, in which the 
 same plan was pursued, would give as much 
 general information as is required to make an 
 intelligent, well-informed woman. 
 
 Molly was not prepared to do battle for her 
 opinions on this subject, nor was she very sure 
 that she was right ; but she did think over the 
 matter very earnestly. She paid special atten- 
 tion for a year or two to every " girl graduate " 
 she saw, and in the end she adopted for Meg 
 the old system of learning the three R's, and 
 watched for any special talent or taste she might 
 have. Music, from the first, it was evident she 
 would do nothing with, although she was anxious 
 to learn ; but she had no ear, could not catch 
 the tune even of the childish nursery jingles. 
 But Molly did believe most thoroughly in 
 Doctor Johnson's dictum, that as many lan- 
 guages as you know, so many lives you live, and 
 knowing how much her own familiar knowledge 
 of French, and less knowledge of German, had 
 added to her pleasure in life, she was determined 
 that her children should benefit by it. 
 
 For this reason, as soon as a living was as- 
 sured, Molly cast about for a French nurse. It 
 was easy enough to find one, but the one she
 
 222 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 wanted was not of this kind. She wanted a 
 simple, country girl, even if she knew nothing 
 at all of civilized life as we understand it. Of 
 course, she did not want a mere goatherd, who 
 could not read or write ; but a French Marta 
 would have suited better than a nimble-minded, 
 and still more nimble-fingered, Parisian. After 
 some months of effort, a Swiss girl was found 
 who spoke fairly good French, and no English 
 at all, and within a year from the time she came 
 Meg, John, and Kate were chattering to her 
 glibly. 
 
 Many people wondered at a sensible woman 
 like Molly caring to have her children learn 
 French from an uneducated girl. Her answer 
 was this : 
 
 " If I could afford to have a French lady with 
 me all the time I would not think of this; but 
 that is out of the question, and fluent conversa- 
 tional French is more valuable, even if the ac- 
 cent is not so good, than school French which, 
 as a rule, only serves, after years of study, to 
 enable the student to stumble through a page of 
 reading, and to write, with infinite difficulty, a 
 French letter ; and even this will drop from 
 one in a few years. Now I reason this way: 
 we all speak broken French, even when most 
 fluent. There will be the English accent. 
 Well, a little more or less of accent will not
 
 MOLLY'S SUCCESS. 223 
 
 be of much importance, but then I really do 
 not see that it need necessarily be so. Many 
 people, not rich enough to pay fancy wages to 
 fancy nurses, have a young Irishwoman to take 
 care of their children. And, more often than 
 not, she will have the richest brogue, but our 
 children are not affected thereby ; they have no 
 brogue. It is true, Meg has told me once or 
 twice that Marta was 'just after doing so and 
 so,' and a few other locutions of the sort, which 
 she will drop in a very short time." 
 " Yes, because you will correct her." 
 " Well, I shall correct her French, so far as I 
 am able ; but what I think is, that when she 
 comes to use books she will correct herself as 
 naturally as she will correct her Hibernian Eng- 
 lish ; and even if she does not, any fluent, con- 
 versible French short of patois and, of course, 
 I shall not take a girl who uses that will be 
 better than the usual useless school knowledge; 
 and I shall watch for opportunities of doing 
 better for them. I may meet with a French 
 lady who, in exchange for board, will talk to the 
 children a stated time in the day." 
 
 And thus it was that as Meg, John, and Kate 
 became ready for school, they already were 
 familiar with oral French and German, for 
 Molly had never lost her habit of speaking 
 German to Marta.
 
 224 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 I said the worst hardship of Molly's life was 
 the difficulty of finding suitable assistance in 
 return for a good home and liberal wages ; but 
 there was another element of vexation that had 
 helped to cloud her path, and that was her hus- 
 band's family. Of course, their plan, so tri- 
 umphantly unfolded to Molly, had failed, as she 
 knew it must fail, and they were much worse off 
 for the experiment. 
 
 Then had come other equally wild schemes, 
 all based on the necessity of living in the same 
 apparent style that they were brought up in, the 
 most disastrous being an arrangement with a 
 very elegant French baroness to take the house 
 and board the family for part of the rent. The 
 house was quickly filled with elegant foreigners, 
 and all went joyously for six months. Madame 
 did not pay the rent, but had magnificent dia- 
 monds and excellent reasons, which she gave as 
 security. 
 
 At the six months' end, however, Mrs. Bishop, 
 Senior, was summoned by telegraph to Green- 
 field ; Molly was dangerously ill. The daughters 
 were away, having taken their father to Clifton 
 Springs. 
 
 Mrs. Bishop started on her journey, and, on 
 reaching Molly's house, found her quite well ; 
 no such telegram had been sent. Molly had 
 never believed in the " Baroness," and, when
 
 MOLLY'S SUCCESS. 225 
 
 she heard the story, instantly started back with 
 Mrs. Bishop, and found, as she expected, that 
 the "Baroness" had departed with her friends. 
 
 It is needless to say the diamonds were 
 splendid paste ; and, worse than all, Mrs. Bishop 
 found that her own tradesmen had supposed 
 they were supplying her, and everything had 
 been charged to her that had been ordered to 
 the house. 
 
 In all these crises Molly's common sense was 
 called on to straighten out matters ; but so long 
 as there was any choice whatever, her services 
 only were accepted, never her advice. Then 
 came a time when, having wasted everything, 
 they had to sell the house, and go to live in a 
 very small way in Belgium, on the proceeds. 
 Had they rented it as soon as they lost their 
 money, they would have received a comfortable 
 income from it. But their transference, which 
 was the doom of their gentility, was a blessing 
 to Molly.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 MOLLY'S PLANS FOR MEG. DR. MILNE SPEAKS. 
 
 MOLLY had very carefully watched her chil- 
 dren for indications of any special talents they 
 might show. Meg, as the elder, she had ex- 
 pected would develop her tastes and inclinations 
 before the others ; but she watched for her dawn- 
 ing talent in vain. She was generally bright 
 and capable, but her forte seemed to be in help- 
 ing her mother. When she was fourteen, be- 
 tween lesson hours she took entire charge of the 
 dining table. (Molly's boarding-house, perhaps 
 I should have stated, had assumed large and 
 handsome proportions, and was widely known. 
 She had been able to buy the house and build 
 on to it.) She arranged the fruit and flowers 
 for breakfast with rare taste, and introduced all 
 sorts of pretty fancies. The napkins were al- 
 ways changed regularly, and the table-cloth was 
 spotless and without creases, under Meg's super- 
 intendence. This one duty, which she could 
 trust with utmost confidence to her, was a great 
 relief to Molly, small as it was.
 
 MOLLY'S PLANS FOR MEG. 227 
 
 Then the little girl's delight was to assist in 
 kitchen work ; she could make meringue, whip 
 cream solid, and arrange salad as well as any 
 grown woman. Molly was delighted to see these 
 womanly tastes develop, and yet as years went 
 on and Meg only grew more expert as a cook, 
 and showed no taste for the arts by which her 
 mother had hoped she would be able to make a 
 living, she was disappointed. Of course, she 
 confided her trouble to Mrs. Welles, who made 
 light of it. 
 
 " I don't think you need worry, Molly, about 
 Meg's livelihood ; so pretty a girl will be mar- 
 ried before you can look round. I think I 've 
 seen more than one young man at church pay 
 more attention to Meg than to his prayer-book." 
 
 " Oh, but it is against all my ideas and prin- 
 ciples to bring a girl up only to marry. Know- 
 ing something by which she may earn a living 
 will not prevent that, and if anything happens 
 to me I want her to be independent." 
 
 " To tell the truth, my dear, while I think 
 something is quite as likely to happen to Meg 
 herself as to you, if anything did, Meg could 
 carry on your business just as well as you, and 
 make a home for her brother and sister." J 
 
 1 This is no exaggeration. I know of one young girl under 
 twenty, who had been brought up to help her mother who had 
 had for years a large and fashionable boarding-house on Fifth
 
 228 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 " I believe she would be quite able," laughed 
 Molly ; " but as I don't mean to die, if I can help 
 it, until Kate is grown up, I prefer Meg to know 
 how to make a living independent of me. And 
 neither she nor I can decide what she is most 
 fitted for." 
 
 " What do you think of letting her go through 
 the cooking school ? We may teach her every- 
 thing between us, but we could not so well teach 
 her to teach, as she would be taught in going 
 through the regular drill." 
 
 " I have thought of it, and Meg takes to the 
 idea. I don't know any field of woman's work 
 where there is so much room." 
 
 " W r ell, then, if you desire, let her learn all 
 she can in the New York schools, then trust her 
 to Cuthbert and me, and when we go to London 
 next year we will let her go through South Ken- 
 sington. She will then be able, should she not 
 marry, to open a training school of her own." 
 
 Molly gladly assented to the plan, and on con- 
 sulting Meg found her quite willing, her only 
 objection being to leaving her mother for so long 
 a time while she studied ; but Molly succeeded 
 in comforting her on this head, and that fall 
 Meg began to go to the city for lessons. 
 
 Avenue, New York. On the sudden death of the mother, the 
 young girl stepped into her place and, young as she is, I hear 
 the house still goes on its prosperous way.
 
 MOLLY'S PLANS FOR MEG. 229 
 
 As the time came for Meg to leave with Mrs. 
 Welles for Europe, Molly's courage almost gave 
 way. How could she spare her ? Only now 
 did she realize how dear and helpful her elder 
 daughter was : how little thought she had ever 
 had for herself, and how she had clung to her 
 mother, seeming instinctively to know when she 
 was sad, even at the earliest age, and would 
 slide her little hand in Molly's, without a word. 
 All these endearing little ways she had retained, 
 and very few mothers and daughters were so 
 much to each other as Molly and Meg. 
 
 And yet there came a reason which reconciled 
 Molly to the parting. For some time there had 
 been two or three young men trying to be atten- 
 tive to Meg, which Molly had quietly observed 
 and ignored ; but as time went on, another, who 
 seemed bolder and more persevering, appeared 
 on the scene, and as his attentions became more 
 marked, Molly thought it an excellent thing 
 that her daughter was going away. George 
 Milne, the young man who seemed bent on be- 
 coming her son-in-law, was one that even an am- 
 bitious mother might have approved. He was a 
 physician who had come to Greenfield to assist 
 Doctor Price, and within a year the old doctor 
 and Molly's dear friend died. 
 
 Doctor Milne had been so successful that he 
 found himself at eight-and-twenty with a fine
 
 230 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 practice and a growing reputation outside of 
 Greenfield, for he had written some excellent 
 papers on the treatment of the ear, which had 
 been well spoken of in medical circles. 
 
 But in spite of this, Molly felt that Meg ought 
 to see more of the world before her affections 
 were engaged. She fancied she had seen that 
 Meg treated Doctor Milne differently from oth- 
 ers who fluttered round her. She was less 
 frankly unreserved with him, and once or twice 
 when Molly had mentioned his name, watching 
 her daughter as she did so, she saw the sweet 
 color rise in her cheek, and that she made an 
 excuse to speak of something else. These Molly 
 knew were signs of interest that Meg displayed 
 for no other. But as yet her mother thought it 
 was but a passing fancy, that her journey to Eu- 
 rope would cure. Molly forgot how prone an 
 innocent girl is to hero-worship ; how easy it is 
 to make a hero of a good-looking young man, 
 whose praises she hears on all hands ; of whose 
 disinterested kindness to the sick poor she is 
 well aware. No wonder sweet Margaret Bishop 
 felt her heart flutter when Doctor Milne seemed 
 to single her out for attention. It seemed al- 
 most like a dream to her, and she feared her 
 vanity was leading her astray when she fancied 
 his dark eyes sought hers far more frequently 
 than was necessary.
 
 DR. MILNE SPEAKS. 231 
 
 But all such innocent doubts were suddenly 
 ended one morning as she was coming from mar- 
 ket, just a week before she was to sail for Liver- 
 pool. She had an errand which took her some 
 little distance out of the town, and as she was 
 returning homeward, a doctor's buggy passed 
 her. A hundred yards ahead it stopped, Doctor 
 Milne sprang out on the grassy roadside, and 
 the buggy was driven slowly on. 
 
 For a moment Meg looked with a vague curi- 
 osity, wondering why the doctor stopped where 
 there was no house. It was not till he was ap- 
 proaching her with rapid steps, and she saw the 
 greeting smile, that she realized he had seen her 
 and had stopped on purpose to speak to her. It 
 did not even then dawn on her that he had any 
 motive in seeking her. It was certainly very 
 pleasant to be singled out for such special atten- 
 tion from her hero ; beyond this she did not 
 think. 
 
 " Miss Bishop, I heard only last night that 
 you are going away," he said, rather eagerly, 
 " and and there is something I have to say 
 to you. You must excuse my being so abrupt, 
 but I could not let you go without speaking." 
 
 He had turned and was walking by her side. 
 Meg was silent ; her heart fluttered wildly, she 
 hardly knew why, and she did not know what to 
 think. It could not be possible that oh, it
 
 232 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 could not be possible ! such an insignificant girl 
 as herself ! 
 
 But it was. The next moment he had recov- 
 ered from his momentary embarrassment, and 
 was telling her with rapid, eager words how he 
 loved her and wanted her for his wife ; how he 
 had meant to wait and let her know him better, 
 but when he heard of this intended trip he did 
 not dare to wait. Now might he go with her 
 and speak to her mother ? 
 
 What Meg said she did not know herself, so 
 of course I cannot tell. She was filled with joy- 
 ful pride, and she really did not know whether 
 the feeling she had for Doctor Milne was any- 
 thing but this or not. 
 
 The doctor was not nearly so inexperienced as 
 she was, and was not too much discouraged by 
 her manner. He saw the dewy light in her eyes 
 and the heightened pink flush, and knew that he 
 was not distasteful to her; she was merely 
 overcome by the unexpected. 
 
 " You don't dislike me, at least ? " he asked, 
 not in the smallest doubt as to the answer. 
 
 " Oh, no, no," and the warmth of the denial 
 spoke volumes. 
 
 " Then I am satisfied. I will not see Mrs. 
 Bishop now, but may I come to-night ? " 
 
 Meg drew a breath of relief ; that was just 
 what she wanted a quiet hour with her 
 mother, and time to think of things.
 
 DR. MILNE SPEAKS. 233 
 
 "Then I will leave you now." He pressed 
 her hand and left her. 
 
 Somehow Meg, who had not dreamed of being 
 lonely before, now felt suddenly alone, as if 
 something warm and pleasant had fallen from 
 her.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 MOLLY'S DECISION. 
 
 MEG slipped into the house when she reached 
 home and went to her room. She did not want 
 to see even her mother until she had had time to 
 think, and, above all, to wonder after all, a 
 great wonder ! How it could be possible that he 
 loved her and wanted her to be his wife was her 
 predominant thought, and, amid it all, she tried 
 to find out what was her feeling towards him. 
 While she was still trying to make out that it 
 was impossible she could love a man of whom 
 she knew so little, although she liked him 
 ah ! more than she could express her mother 
 entered. 
 
 " Why, Meg, are you sick ? I saw your hat 
 down stairs, and that told me you were in. 
 What is the matter, my darling ? " asked Molly, 
 anxiously ; for a glance at Meg's flushed, but 
 very happy face, reassured her as to her health. 
 
 Meg threw her arms round her mother. 
 
 " Oh, mother ! I I met Doctor Milne." 
 
 "Oh!" Molly's "Oh" was one of sudden
 
 MOLLY'S DECISION. 235 
 
 enlightenment. " Then, I dare say, I can guess 
 what he talked about ; but tell me, all the 
 same." 
 
 Molly's arm was around Meg to assure her of 
 a sympathizing listener, and then the story was 
 told. 
 
 " Well, darling, and so he is coming to see me 
 to-night?" 
 
 " I think so, mother dear." 
 
 " I suppose, Meg, you don't card for me to 
 say ' yes ' to him ? " asked Molly, with a steady 
 mouth, but a smile in her eyes. 
 
 Meg started. It had not occurred to her that 
 her mother might wish her to refuse him. The 
 very moment that idea came to her, she was 
 very sure she could not do it. 
 
 " I don't know. I like him better than any 
 one I ever saw ; and, oh ! he is so good." 
 
 Molly laughed. 
 
 " I '11 tell you what I have to say about this, 
 Meg. Doctor Milne is very nice and very suit- 
 able ; but you know nothing of his disposition, 
 nor he of yours. I could not let you engage 
 yourself to him. You have seen too few men ; 
 but if when you return from Europe and have 
 carried out our plans, just as if there was no 
 Doctor Milne he still wants you and you care 
 for him, then I shall be very glad to say, * Bless 
 you, my children ! '
 
 236 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 Meg was silent, and Molly said : 
 
 " What do you think, dear ? " 
 
 Meg gave a little sigh. 
 
 "Whatever you say is best will be best, 
 mother." 
 
 But when Doctor Milne came that night and 
 heard Molly's decision, he was by no means so 
 docile. It was very hard, he said, to wait a 
 year in uncertainty; but even when (being 
 more reasonable and thoughtful than most men 
 of his age) Molly had brought him to see that it 
 was best, both for himself and Meg, that she 
 should see more of the world and know her own 
 mind, he yet could not agree to the necessity of 
 her proposed course of study. 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Bishop, surely such a course is 
 not necessary. Margaret lets me hope she will 
 be my wife. I shall not change, and it is my 
 dearest hope that absence will not lessen her 
 liking for me. Why, then, need she prepare 
 for a single life ? " 
 
 Molly laughed. 
 
 " She is by no means doing so. Mrs. Welles 
 prepared for and began a successful career, 
 which did not prevent her marriage, and she is, 
 in every way, a gainer by the experience. Then 
 I must remind you that Meg will not be engaged 
 to you. You must not even attach too much im- 
 portance to her liking for you she has seen so
 
 MOLLY'S DECISION. 237 
 
 few men and she must go away without the 
 shadow of a tie." 
 
 " I think that is hard, Mrs. Bishop. I as- 
 sure you, if Meg engages herself conditionally to 
 me, I will make no reproaches should she find 
 some one on her travels that she prefers ; or if 
 she does not, and yet cannot marry me, I shall 
 acquiesce in what she thinks best for her happi- 
 ness. If you consent to this, it will give me 
 some feeling of happiness, and will not tie her." 
 
 But Molly was firm. She knew Meg too well 
 not to be sure that even a conditional engage- 
 ment would tie her conscience and cause her 
 acute suffering should she find she had mistaken 
 her feelings, and she was also firm in her resolve 
 that Meg should go through her appointed stud- 
 ies in spite of Doctor Milne's protest. 
 
 "If my daughter becomes your wife, and, 
 later, anything happens to reduce your means or 
 you die, she will not find herself like so many 
 women, with no one thing they can do thoroughly 
 well. It is my belief, if any woman knows one 
 art thoroughly well, she will never lack the 
 means of living, even if her art be only that of 
 knitting or crocheting." 
 
 " But my wife will be well provided for, even 
 should I die within a year of our marriage." 
 
 " Well and good ; but she, or any woman, will 
 be the better for what she will know."
 
 238 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 When Molly spoke in this tone, any one with 
 the smallest discrimination knew that further ar- 
 gument was useless. 
 
 Mrs. Welles, who, of course, had been told of 
 Meg's new prospects, agreed with her mother in 
 thinking no change should be made in their 
 plans. 
 
 " Of course, we will do as we said ; but you 
 may be quite sure Meg will be Mrs. Milne." 
 
 " What makes you think so ? I have ob- 
 served her closely, and really think she has no 
 deep affection ; that her pleasure in his offer is a 
 mixture of hero-worship and romance." 
 
 " Mothers do not sometimes see so far as oth- 
 ers ; but of one thing I am sure : a man like Doc- 
 tor Milne does not come into the life of a girl 
 like Meg and go out very readily. I don't be- 
 lieve the flock oijeunesse dore, with whom I in- 
 tend to surround her in Europe, will do anything 
 but deepen her present feelings." 
 
 " Well, well ; so be it ! I, for one, shall re- 
 joice that it should be so. Then I should stand 
 a chance of having my dear girl always near 
 me." 
 
 If Molly could have looked into her daugh- 
 ter's shy heart as she returned Milne's entreat- 
 ing look, when he begged her to try not to forget 
 him, by one of reassurance, she would not have 
 doubted the result more than Mrs. Welles did.
 
 MOLLY'S DECISION. 239 
 
 About John's bent, Molly was not long in 
 doubt. It had been a keen desire with her that 
 her son's taste and talents should incline him to 
 the profession of a civil engineer. She watched 
 him from babyhood, and hoped to see him dis- 
 play some preference for mechanics. She read 
 articles herself (and talked afterward to him) 011 
 the wonders of engineering science ; but she 
 could never arouse the least enthusiasm in him. 
 He listened restlessly, and eagerly waited for 
 something more interesting. Molly sighed to 
 think her dear wish would be thwarted. 
 
 " Why are you so anxious for John to be an 
 engineer ? " asked Mrs. Welles. 
 
 " Long before I ever knew I should have a 
 son, I thought it was the noblest profession a 
 man could have. Even now I thrill with enthu- 
 siasm when I read of its great achievements. It 
 seems to me, too, to open a career that depends 
 on talents and work done, with which chance or 
 luck has less to do than with most others. Then 
 I have always observed, too, wherever one meets 
 a civil engineer, he is never out of employment. 
 I remember once meeting two young Irish gen- 
 tlemen, who had just arrived in Canada at a time 
 when everything was stagnant. We made their 
 acquaintance at the hotel, and my husband and 
 I pitied them, fearing their high hopes and small 
 funds would soon be exhausted, and that they
 
 240 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 would go to swell the crowd of poor young fel- 
 lows out of employment ; but instead of that, be- 
 fore the week was out, both had employment. 
 They found there was no opening for engineers 
 till spring. Accordingly one went to a patent 
 lawyer, and was immediately employed as a 
 draughtsman ; the other got surveying to do. 
 Both were fairly well paid. When I congratu- 
 lated them on their good fortune, one of them 
 laughed joyously, and said : 
 
 " ' Oh, you never need fear for an engineer 
 who knows his work in all its branches, and 
 is steady ! He will tumble on his feet wherever 
 he is.' 
 
 " Mr. Bishop recalled several instances that 
 bore out the statement, and I have noticed it 
 since. For all these reasons I have so earnestly 
 hoped that John would become an engineer 
 that, I fear, I shall be terribly disappointed 
 should he not." 
 
 " Perhaps if he begins to study for it the lik- 
 ing may come." 
 
 " Yes ; if he shows no special disposition for 
 anything else, and seems to have any talent for 
 mathematics, I will advise him to choose that 
 profession ; but if he has leanings in another di- 
 rection, I will not venture to cross his tastes. 
 That is too dangerous an experiment." 
 
 " Not even if he wished to be a musician or an 
 actor?"
 
 MOLLY'S DECISION. 241 
 
 Molly hesitated. She had no prejudice 
 against either profession ; indeed, a fine musician 
 or great actor may well be proud of his art. 
 But the lower walks are so low, so full of pit- 
 falls, and offer so little future to manhood, that 
 Molly felt, without knowing just how to say it, 
 that nothing less than the drawing of undoubted 
 genius ought to justify the choice of either. 
 John was fourteen when this conversation took 
 place, and Molly was quite sure he had neither 
 dramatic nor musical genius. 
 
 " If he wished to be either, without showing 
 talent of the most marked kind, I should oppose 
 those professions with all my might and author- 
 ity ; but, as he has displayed no such talent yet, 
 we need not consider them. But if he shows a 
 strong desire for any calling to which he is fitted, 
 I shall forward his views, however averse I may 
 be ; for I don't want a young man of twenty to 
 come to me and say : 
 
 " ' Mother, I have obeyed you, and wasted my 
 time. I can never be anything but what I 
 wanted ! ' " 
 
 About this time a professor of chemistry was 
 engaged at the school John attended to lecture 
 and illustrate by experiment the science of chem- 
 istry. This was the first thing in which John 
 seemed to become deeply interested. From that 
 time Molly lived in dread of being blown up.
 
 242 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 More than once miniature explosions had led to 
 her forbidding further experiments, which would 
 be rescinded when he told her he was going to 
 do something as safe as blowing soap bubbles, 
 and read the innocent directions from a book on 
 elementary chemistry ; and then would follow 
 days with hands stained by acids and gaseous 
 odors filling the basement, to a spare room of 
 which, he and his hobby had been relegated. 
 At last Molly compromised the matter by telling 
 him that if he did not dabble with chemicals un- 
 til he really understood them she would get him 
 special instruction ; and when assured that he was 
 in no danger of blowing himself up she would 
 fit him up a small laboratory, provided his ardor 
 had not meanwhile evaporated. 
 
 Molly had known so many boys with hobbies 
 which were ridden ardently for a few months 
 and then dropped into the limbo of forgotten 
 things, that she fully expected John's craze to 
 be as transient ; yet, as the knowledge would al- 
 ways be valuable, she made arrangements for 
 him to have extra lessons, just as she would have 
 bought him a bicycle as a thing innocent in it- 
 self, useful for development, and a pleasure to 
 him, little dreaming that in the boy's hobby 
 might lie his life-work. 
 
 She who had watched keenly for signs and 
 portents did not recognize this for a sign when
 
 MOLLY'S DECISION. 243 
 
 she saw it, because she had not been thinking of 
 chemistry as a possible profession ; and yet when 
 his instructor later on told her that her son was 
 an enthusiast in the science, and would certainly 
 make an admirable chemist, she could but ask 
 herself, why not ? There was certainly no rea- 
 son, except that she had never happened to know 
 of a boy being brought up to be a scientific 
 chemist. 
 
 She consulted Mr. Welles, who gave it as his 
 opinion that if the boy really loved the science 
 there could be no more promising career open 
 to him. " It is not overcrowded by brainy men, 
 and brains and enthusiasm will as surely tell in 
 it as in your pet engineering." 
 
 And so John became a student of chemistry, 
 and in deciding his own career he unconsciously 
 influenced that of Kate.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 MRS. WELLES'S PLANS. MEG'S DIARY. 
 
 MOLLY had begged Mrs. Welles not to add 
 in any way to the allowance she had considered 
 sufficient for Meg. She had somewhat regretted 
 that her daughter was going in company with 
 a woman of large means ; she would have liked 
 her to know something of the thrifty life a stu- 
 dent usually has to live, because she knew in 
 this way only could Meg acquire an intimate 
 knowledge of London life and ways. Living in 
 expensive lodgings Meg would never do this ; but 
 of course the mother could not quarrel with the 
 opportunity her daughter had had, and therefore 
 when accepting Mrs. Welles' s offer Molly only 
 said, " She is going under too luxurious auspices ; 
 I wish she could live something of the life that 
 you and I did, part of the time at least." 
 
 Mrs. Welles laughed and said, " I don't sup- 
 pose Meg will quarrel with her chances of enjoy- 
 ing some of the luxuries of London life." 
 
 Nothing more was said ; but when Meg and 
 Mrs. Welles had paid their tribute to the sea
 
 MRS. WELLES' S PLANS. MEG'S DIARY. 245 
 
 (for both suffered seasickness), and could begin 
 to believe that life was worth living, Mrs. Welles 
 told Meg of a project she had, leaving her to de- 
 cide on it. Happily Mrs. Welles, strong-willed, 
 clear-minded woman as she was, had not the 
 manner of treating young people as if they could 
 not have a will or taste, but must submit them- 
 selves entirely to their elders, a manner that 
 is always exasperating to the youthful mind. 
 
 " Meg, I have been thinking of a little plan, 
 and Cuthbert is quite willing we should carry it 
 out ; but as you have come with me for a year's 
 enjoyment as well as study, I will do nothing to 
 disappoint you. If you object to roughing it, 
 say so, and the plan shall drop. Mr. Welles, as 
 you know, has to go to Russia to see to affairs 
 there, and may be away some months. My plan 
 is to put Lois for study with my old friend 
 Madame Ferani, who is a thorough artist and an 
 excellent woman, and who will tell me, quite re- 
 gardless of whether she will thereby gain or lose 
 a pupil, whether Lois has the remarkable talent 
 she seems to have, or not. If, after a trial, 
 Madame Ferani thinks it worth while to give 
 her more than the usual advantages, I shall en- 
 ter her as a pupil in Madame Ferani's studio, 
 and arrange my own course according to it. I 
 had some thought of taking a furnished house 
 midway between the studio and the South Ken-
 
 246 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 sington Museum, so as to suit you both. We 
 could then lead a homelike life, see friends, etc. 
 
 " Now it is only the latter part of the pro- 
 gramme that I thought I would alter. Your 
 mother wished you might live just the old life 
 she and I lived. I said nothing, but her words 
 roused old memories, and the idea grew upon 
 me. I, too, would like to renew my youth in 
 that way. There was no privation, but, of course, 
 no luxuries whatever. We used to plan and 
 economize for every pleasure we enjoyed, and 
 yet what happy days they were ! I don't care 
 to go back to the economy unless I can do it 
 just in the old neighborhood ; but I must say I 
 would like to see if Cambridge sausages and pig- 
 eon pies will taste as good now, eaten, not as 
 part of a meal, but as the meal itself, as they did 
 when they were rather rare luxuries, being more 
 expensive than most kinds of food." 
 
 Meg enjoyed the idea. She had heard her 
 mother talk of old days and the way they lived 
 in London ; the many little economical pleasures 
 they had, until that part of her mother's life 
 seemed as familiar as her own ; and she had al- 
 most regretted that Mrs. Welles's means made 
 it natural to lead the conventional life of well-to- 
 do people. 
 
 " Then that is settled. We will go to the Al- 
 exandre Hotel. Dear me, don't I remember its
 
 MRS. WELLES' S PLANS. MEG'S DIARY. 247 
 
 being built, and thinking what a very luxurious 
 place it was. Luxurious hotels were not so gen- 
 eral when I was a girl as now. Comfort and 
 dinginess sufficed then. And when Cuthbert 
 and I stayed there the last time we were in Lon- 
 don, how he did abuse it ! and certainly it did not 
 seem anything very splendid by the side of the 
 more modern houses. But it will never lose its 
 charming situation. The front windows look 
 into Hyde Park, Rotten Row, and the Drive. 
 That alone is worth a great deal ; but when you 
 sally forth, turn to your right, and in three min- 
 utes you are at Hyde Park corner, in five at 
 Piccadilly. Turn to your left, and ten minutes' 
 walk (if you can resist looking about you) will 
 take you to South Kensington Museum. 
 
 " But, delightful as the situation is, I should 
 not care to make a home there for more than a 
 few days ; so I propose we stay there for a week, 
 and from there look out for lodgings in some of 
 the smaller streets in Kensington or Brompton, 
 where we can be as Bohemian as we like. Shall 
 we do that ? " 
 
 " I shall be delighted." 
 
 And the more Meg thought of the matter, the 
 more delighted she was, and made a resolution 
 to keep a diary for her mother and mail it once 
 a week. This she began on board the steamer, 
 and continued faithfully all through her stay in
 
 248 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 London. It was very bright reading for any 
 one, and who will not understand the pleasure it 
 was (not unmixed with tears, however) for Molly 
 to read of Meg's wanderings in the neighbor- 
 hood she had known so well ; how Mrs. Welles 
 pointed out their favorite bun shop, the pastry 
 cook's where they had bought their dainties, the 
 small circulating library to which they had sub- 
 scribed, and told her how few of these had 
 changed hands in all the years that had passed. 
 She even described how the young woman in the 
 pastry cook's who used to be called the " Knights- 
 bridge beauty" had become a still coquettish 
 spinster, who wore her hair in exactly the same 
 way as when Molly had admired her, only that 
 the tendril-like locks that had made her youth- 
 ful brow so charming made the faded, sunken 
 temples look still older. All the pretty little 
 ways she had had, Mrs. Welles said she had 
 still, only somehow they did not look so pretty 
 at forty as at twenty or so. 
 
 All this and very much more Molly read in 
 that dear diary, with tears and smiles. But this 
 part of their experiences followed some time 
 after her settlement in London, although quite 
 as amusing was the account of their life on ship- 
 board and their landing. 
 
 " You remember, dear mother," wrote Meg 
 from Liverpool, " dear Aunt Charlotte's sensi-
 
 MRS. WELLE S'S PLANS. MEG'S DIARY. 249 
 
 tiveness about the English climate, how she pro- 
 tested against Mr. Welles's abuse of it. Well, 
 she has given in at last, and declares she will 
 never defend it again, it did serve her such a 
 bad trick. The day before we landed was so 
 lovely ! There was a party of young girls on 
 board, enthusiastic about everything, and as 
 every bit of land with a well-known name came 
 in view, they had a bit to quote or a novel to 
 refer to in which it was mentioned, and Mrs. 
 Welles was delighted with them. We came in 
 sight of the Skelligs about ten o'clock at night, 
 but as there was a lovely moon they were visible, 
 and these girls were in raptures. 
 
 " ' Oh, there are the Skelligs ! we are really 
 " Off the SkeUigs " ! ' Then followed a discus- 
 sion about Jean Ingelow's most delightful book. 
 And the next day Snowdon and the Great Orme's 
 Head were greeted with equally delighted recog- 
 nition. 
 
 " ' And is n't the weather perfect ! Why, I 
 did not know they ever had such weather as this 
 in England ! ' 
 
 " Mrs. Welles looked on with glistening eyes 
 of triumph, and said : ' No, I suppose Americans 
 believe the sun never shines, and we never see 
 a blue sky until we leave our own country. I 
 wonder they never ask themselves how it is that 
 roses and many other flowers never attain such
 
 250 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 perfection anywhere else ; and let me tell you if 
 you are in London in spring you will find rhodo- 
 dendrons and other American plants in such 
 glorious beauty as you never saw out of doors 
 in their native land.' 
 
 " I, too, gloried a little in the fact that Old 
 England, which is dear to me because you love 
 it so, was showing herself so beautiful to us. 
 As we approached Liverpool, Mr. Welles in- 
 formed us that there was every chance of our 
 landing in the afternoon ; the captain was mak- 
 ing every effort. We had hardly hoped for it, 
 but as the news grew more certain that we 
 should be in time to cross the bar, we all has- 
 tened to our staterooms and got our things to- 
 gether. The stewardess stripped the beds, and 
 there was all the commotion of leaving the ves- 
 sel, when, lo ! in a minute everything changed. 
 We had been so busy below that we had not 
 noticed a growing darkness; when we reached 
 the saloon we found it crowded with people all 
 cloaked and ready for shore, with their hand 
 baggage around them ; but, instead of the usual 
 good-tempered chatter going on, all were in a 
 state of consternation. 
 
 " Mr. Welles went to see what the trouble 
 was, and came to tell us that a fog had fallen. 
 I did not realize what that meant to us, and I 
 laughed ; for I really was anxious to see a real 
 English fog, of which I had heard so much.
 
 WELLE S'S PLANS. -MEG'S DIARY. 251 
 
 " ' I 'm much afraid we shall have to remain 
 on board all night, after all.' 
 
 " ' What ! ' I said. ' And we are all ready, 
 and the vessel is in such good time ! ' 
 
 " ' Yes ; but the captain thinks the tender will 
 not be able to find us in the fog.' 
 
 " And so it turned out ; and such a forlorn- 
 looking crowd as we were, with our light bag- 
 gage all about us, until ten at night, when word 
 came that we positively could not land ! Dear 
 Aunt Charlotte was so vexed, although she bore 
 Mr. Welles's jokes very well. And such con- 
 fusion as there was ! such objurgation of stew- 
 ards and stewardesses! for we had seen all our 
 sheets in a mixed heap in the morning ; yet the 
 beds were remade, and they pretended that they 
 had been able to fish out the sheets that belonged 
 to each bed ; needless to say we slept in our rugs 
 that night. Next morning, when the fog had 
 partially cleared and we were told the tender 
 was alongside, and had gone on deck, Aunt 
 Charlotte told me she never would again say a 
 word in defense of the climate, for although it 
 had ' cleared,' we could not see people at the 
 other end of the deck, and, when I looked up, I 
 saw in the sky something round and whitish that 
 reminded me very much of the way the lumps of 
 ice looked in tumblers of water at the hotel ta- 
 ble in Cincinnati. Don't you remember? I 
 could hardly believe it was the sun ! "
 
 252 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 And so on, for months, came this diary, and 
 it was full of London experiences ; sometimes 
 giving a full account of a cooking lesson, and, 
 at others, little details of their own lives, how 
 they managed to have little dinners and suppers 
 at a small expense ; how an art student, with 
 whom she had made acquaintance, managed to 
 live on two dollars and a half a week ; the little 
 delicacies she cooked in her own room, living 
 ever so much better than many who boarded 
 cheaply, but yet paid double what she spent. 
 In all this, Meg's share of her mother's practi- 
 cability was shown in the fact that she gave rec- 
 ipes and expenses always as part of the subject. 
 
 Monday evenings Doctor Milne spent with 
 Molly. It was the day Meg's letters usually ar- 
 rived, and at first she read him parts of them ; 
 then, as she really grew fond of him, she read 
 the whole. Mrs. Lennox and her family often 
 joined them, and, as the diary became more in- 
 teresting, they all came regularly. But as 
 Molly read these effusions of her daughter, she 
 began to suspect a fact, which was confirmed by 
 Mr. Lennox's saying : 
 
 " Your daughter need not have gone so far to 
 find an avocation ; her evident vocation is resi- 
 dent. The girl of her age who can write so 
 graphically as that is going to do something with 
 her pen ! "
 
 MRS. WELLES' S PLANS. MEG'S DIARY. 253 
 
 Doctor Milne's eyes kindled, and he said 
 quietly : 
 
 " That is what I think. This is too valuable 
 and too good not to be published." 
 
 And this was Molly's opinion, too ; and, there- 
 fore, we will dip no more into the diary, which 
 Doctor Milne, with Molly's delighted consent, 
 began at once transcribing on the heavier paper 
 that would find favor with a publisher, writing, 
 as all aspirants for print must do, " on one side 
 the paper only," so that when Meg should re- 
 turn, she would find she had written a book 
 without knowing it.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 KATE'S VOCATION. 
 
 KATE had been the one delicate member of 
 the Bishop family. But for her, no doctor's ser- 
 vices would have been needed, and year by year 
 Molly had dreaded that each would be the last 
 of her darling ; but after her seventh year, al- 
 though they had all grown to think of her as an 
 invalid, and to look on her fragile appearance as 
 a sign of weakness, as a matter of fact she grew 
 strong, and had as few ailments as others. 
 
 Nevertheless, she had been so tender a flower 
 that Molly could hardly believe she was to have 
 her for long, and never found courage to make 
 plans for her future. Thus she was allowed to 
 study in a desultory fashion, not altogether un- 
 satisfactory as to results. 
 
 But if her mother did not dare to look forward 
 for her, she did so for herself, and from the age 
 of five, when she announced that when she grew 
 up she meant to keep a candy store, because she 
 would then always have change, to the time 
 when she said that she would be a dressmaker,
 
 KATE'S VOCATION. 255 
 
 was always planning for being " grown up." 
 This last decision lasted so long, and the child 
 showed such skill in making doll's clothes, that 
 it really did seem as if her own judgment was 
 right, especially when, as she grew into a tall, 
 slim girl of fourteen, she arranged her own 
 frocks with a cleverness that insured them a pe- 
 culiar grace. She was very fond, too, of arrang- 
 ing the drapery of Meg's and her mother's 
 dresses. Sometimes she would do wonders with 
 a shawl ; and as Meg grew to be her mother's 
 right hand in both kitchen and dining-room, so 
 Kate became the decorator in general to the 
 house, and the parlor gave evidence of her grace- 
 ful fancies. 
 
 And yet, when John began seriously his study 
 of chemistry, Kate was his sympathetic compan- 
 ion. She helped him often in making experi- 
 ments when once his mother had fitted up his 
 promised laboratory ; and when, for recreation, 
 those experiments took the form of photography, 
 she helped him enthusiastically. Not a whit did 
 she mind the stained fingers if she could flourish 
 triumphantly a photograph of the house, taken 
 by herself! Then, one after another, Molly 
 and all her friends sat to the young artists, John 
 attending to the camera and Kate to the posing 
 and draping. Sometimes the order was re- 
 versed, and John posed the subjects and Kate
 
 256 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 took the likeness ; but there was always a good- 
 tempered outcry at this. Such dowdy dresses 
 as the women seemed to wear, with ramrods run 
 down them from crown to heel, and such enor- 
 mous hands ! The men fared even worse. 
 They stood rigidly at " ease," and " lounged " 
 like wooden men. And so, at last, Kate was al- 
 ways the " artist " of the occasion. 
 
 Very soon John turned his attention to other 
 interesting things that his profession opened up 
 to him, but Kate only grew more fond of the 
 former pursuit; very soon she began to ex- 
 periment and invent little improvements for her- 
 self, and her photographs gradually passed from 
 the first crude efforts to a softness and clear- 
 ness very like professional work ; and some said 
 they had an individuality that the latter rarely 
 has. 
 
 Kate who, of course, knew all about Meg's 
 love affair, and was an ardent admirer of Doctor 
 Milne contrived to do her sister a great kind- 
 ness at this time, and our tender little mother 
 winked at the proceeding. Of course, Kate did 
 not hide her light under a bushel (what genius 
 of fifteen ever does ?), and the family portraits, 
 taken in every mood and manner, were sent 
 across the water ; then those of their neighbors 
 and friends, and, of course, among them one of 
 Doctor Milne. I do not know whether Kate
 
 KATE'S VOCATION. 257 
 
 thought that this would be very precious to Meg 
 or not, although I have no doubt she did ; but 
 Molly knew, if Meg had not mistaken herself, 
 that this portrait would be very dear to her, 
 although she avoided seeming to think there was 
 any more significance in it than in sending that 
 of Mr. Lennox. 
 
 This taste of Kate's, and her apparent talent 
 for it, led Molly to wonder whether it might not 
 be a desirable career for her. True, she had 
 never heard of a woman photographer; but, a 
 few years ago, one never heard of a woman doc- 
 tor ; and, although a dozen physical reasons 
 might be urged against the latter profession for 
 women, she could not see one against photogra- 
 phy. Before saying anything to Kate, or any 
 one else about it, Molly determined to consult 
 one of the best known New York photographers 
 about the matter. She did not know the artist 
 intimately, but she knew he would give her the 
 information. 
 
 Mr. Marani was an Italian, and he listened 
 courteously to what Molly told him, and evi- 
 dently attached very little importance to what 
 she said about Kate's talent ; even when she 
 showed what she considered Kate's best work, 
 he (after looking at it) only said : 
 
 " Yes, there is evidence of artistic taste in the 
 posing, and even the photograph is very good 
 for an amateur so young."
 
 258 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 And Molly understood at once that he did 
 not think it at all wonderful for an amateur of 
 maturer age. 
 
 " Yes, it is quite good ; but, to be candid, 
 your daughter barely knows the A, B, C of the 
 art, and there is the whole alphabet to learn. 
 Who taught her so far ? " 
 
 " No one. She has learned by experiment all 
 she knows." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Marani, taking up the photo- 
 graph again. " That makes a difference. One 
 who, with so little help, has taught herself so 
 much may go far." 
 
 " But you don't think there is any reason why 
 a woman should not make it a profession ? " 
 
 " Certainly not. The best photographer in 
 Naples is a woman ! Only your daughter must 
 not think the battle won, even after she has 
 studied for years. I, to-day, feel that my art is 
 but half learned, because new things are always 
 turning up, and vast possibilities lie in the fu- 
 ture, of which we get occasional glimpses, but 
 cannot seize, although every artist worthy the 
 name, all over the world, works to reach them 
 every day and hour." 
 
 He gave her information as to what kinds of 
 books to get, and where she might be able to ob- 
 tain good instruction for Kate. For this he 
 recommended a small Italian photographer, of 
 no particular reputation.
 
 KATE'S VOCATION. 259 
 
 " He knows, just as well as I do, all about the 
 taking of photographs. He was my assistant, 
 but he has no artistic taste ; so he will never 
 make a name never, unless he finds some part- 
 ner who is an artist. But he can teach all the 
 mechanical part and the effects as well as any 
 one, and your daughter will not need the artis- 
 tic part ; that can never be taught. If she has 
 that in her, she will make a good artist ; if she 
 has it not, it is useless. She can take a like- 
 ness, but she could never make a good picture of 
 it." 
 
 Molly left, feeling very hopeful. His manner 
 had changed directly he found that Kate had 
 worked unaided. Not to let the grass grow 
 under her feet, and wishing to have some certain 
 news to take home, she went to the address of 
 Mr. Nelli, given her by Marani, and talked with 
 him about her daughter. She found he was 
 only too glad to have a pupil. He was married 
 and evidently poor, and his wife, who lived on 
 the premises (for he was not prospering enough 
 to have a studio in a fashionable thoroughfare), 
 acted as attendant. 
 
 Mrs. Nelli was a pretty and, seemingly, a 
 very silly young American woman, who had, 
 no doubt, been married for her beaux yeux, and 
 brought nothing else to the housekeeping. The 
 untidy, dusty little lounge, the carpet swept only
 
 260 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY, 
 
 in the centre, her own dress of faded pale blue, 
 with shabby ribbons and dirty laces, showed 
 that, without the glimpse Molly caught of a once 
 trim little shoe, buttonless and untidy. Her 
 head was apparently the seat of her vanity, and 
 all the time she had for personal adornment 
 was evidently bestowed on the arrangement of 
 her hair. 
 
 Matters were soon settled between them, and 
 when Molly reached home she had arranged for 
 Kate to go into town daily to learn all she could 
 with Mr. Nelli ; and a year or two later she 
 would try to give her further advantages, if her 
 progress seemed to justify it.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " ALL 'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL." 
 
 TIME passes very swiftly to busy people, and 
 much as Molly missed her dear companion, Meg, 
 the year of her absence rolled rapidly away, and 
 now the day of her return was at hand, and 
 every one was busy in making the house look 
 festive to welcome the travelers. Kate's taste 
 and busy fingers, helped by generous gifts of 
 flowers and srailax from Mary Lennox's now 
 large green-houses, were to be depended on for 
 the beautifying of the rooms, while Molly and 
 John and Doctor Milne went to the steamer to 
 meet them. 
 
 Molly smiled quietly to herself to see how en- 
 tirely Doctor Milne considered himself one of 
 the family ; but she did not feel uneasy, for if 
 every action of his had assured her he had not 
 wavered in his affection, she could read between 
 the lines of Meg's letters, and knew that dis- 
 tance and absence had but confirmed her affec- 
 tion for him. Reluctant as Molly had been to 
 let them bind themselves, she was very happy to 
 think George Milne was to be her son-in-law.
 
 262 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 On looking back over her life, Molly was un- 
 utterably grateful for the blessings she had en- 
 joyed, and this marriage seemed the culmination 
 of them all. She would have her daughter living 
 near her, prosperous and happy, for she had not 
 a doubt of Doctor Milne's ability to make any 
 well-disposed woman so, and above all women, 
 Meg. 
 
 A year in the " teens " works greater changes 
 than at any other age in life, and although 
 Meg's teens were almost over the change in her 
 was very great. She looked prettier than ever, 
 they all thought, as she flew to her mother the 
 moment they stepped on deck, and had for a 
 few seconds no eyes for any one but that dear, 
 brave mother. John, on whose upper lip com- 
 ing events were casting their shadows before, 
 was at Molly's side, secretly hoping that he had 
 grown out of knowledge, and that his mustache 
 (he called the shadow by that name) would 
 make him unrecognizable. Doctor Milne waited 
 patiently in the background. His heart leaped 
 and his eye brightened as, after her first lovjng 
 impulse toward her mother, Meg looked swiftly 
 round in search of some one even while she re- 
 turned John's greeting. He had had time to 
 take in the change in her, the aroma of Eu- 
 rope, as it were, that clung to her, before he 
 moved within her sight ; then he caught the
 
 "ALL 'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.' 1 263 
 
 vivid blush, the glad light that came to her eyes, 
 and knew that his hopes were not to be disap- 
 pointed. 
 
 All the way out to Greenfield he had Meg 
 to himself. By some benign chance, the car 
 being pretty full, they had to take seats as they 
 could find them, and Meg and Doctor Milne 
 found theirs together. Mrs. Welles and Molly 
 were two seats before them, and Lois, John, and 
 Mr. Welles were at the other end. 
 
 A car is not a promising place to make love 
 in, especially if the lady is modest and the lover 
 not over bold ; but, notwithstanding the condi- 
 tions, and although not an audible word had 
 been said, when they left the car they under- 
 stood each other. Doctor Milne made this clear 
 to Molly by his triumphant eyes and the air of 
 possession which he unconsciously assumed. 
 
 " You see," said Mrs. Welles (she and Molly 
 went on, leaving the rest to see to the baggage), 
 " that my prophecy has come true." 
 
 " Yes, I see ; I have not had much doubt of 
 it for some months, and I 'm thankful, oh, very 
 thankful!" 
 
 " So am I ; Meg is the sweetest of women. I 
 always believed it ; now I have had her so long 
 under my wing I know it. But I must say I 
 think Doctor Milne is worthy of her." 
 
 When they reached the house it did, indeed,
 
 264 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 wear a joyous air. The steps leading to the 
 door had flowers on either side ; the door was 
 wreathed, and beside the flowers with which 
 Kate had decorated every nook and corner, sev- 
 eral of Mrs. Bishop's boarders, who almost al- 
 ways became her friends, had sent out beautiful 
 baskets and boxes of rare fruit, flowers, and can- 
 dies ; all pleasing to Molly as a testimony to the 
 affectionate respect in which she was held. 
 
 A dainty meal (neither dinner, nor tea, nor 
 luncheon, since it was served at four) was ready 
 for the travelers, who had been kept unusually 
 long on the dock and were very ready to do jus- 
 tice to it ; even the lovers made no pretense of 
 not appreciating the good things before them. 
 
 There are few who have not enjoyed the 
 merry reunion of loved ones who have been long 
 parted, and this was perhaps no brighter than 
 many another, although the room rang with 
 happy laughter, and there were many stories 
 told and many seemingly witty things said. 
 The stories repeated would be flat, and the witty 
 things poor trash to be told in cold blood. Wit, 
 like poetry, often lies in the ear of him who 
 hears it ; and with these happy, joyous friends 
 of ours a very little of the divine afflatus would 
 go a long way. 
 
 But although happy reunions are known in 
 most families, there is seldom a mother so over-
 
 "ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL." 265 
 
 flowing- with happiness as Molly Bishop. She 
 has always been grateful to Providence for her 
 good fortune, but in this last year all had turned 
 out so well that she was made very humble. 
 Why had every blessing been showered on her? 
 She had had such a happy married life as few 
 women know; then her children, they had al- 
 ways been so good that she was rather deprecat- 
 ing in her manner to other mothers whose off- 
 spring were often so different. It had almost 
 seemed like exulting over them to speak of her 
 own children's goodness. And then the pros- 
 perity of her business, had many women, left 
 as she was, been so favored by fortune ? 
 
 Much of this she poured out from her full 
 heart to her girlhood's friend, Charlotte Welles, 
 when the two were closeted together that even- 
 ing. 
 
 " I am almost frightened, Chatty. I 've had 
 such a prosperous life that I fear some calamity 
 may be in store for me or mine. We are not 
 meant to be so entirely happy in this world." 
 
 " That 's just what we are meant to be, my 
 dear, if our mean, discontented natures would 
 allow us ; but if you are uncomfortable and feel 
 yourself too favored by fortune, we '11 put it an- 
 other way and see how it sounds. You were a 
 bright young girl, with all a young girl's yearn- 
 ings for pleasure ; but you had a dear, half-in-
 
 266 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 valid mother, who but for you must have had an 
 attendant, and as you had very small means, 
 that was not possible; so that, instead of the 
 usual pursuits of a girl of your age, you were al- 
 ready tied down with cares, studying hard in 
 order to meet the future, but, nevertheless, per- 
 forming all the duties of nurse together with the 
 hundred things a daughter would do and an at- 
 tendant would not. Now, this is not the picture 
 of a gay and giddy girlhood " 
 
 " No," interrupted Molly, smiling; "but it was 
 a very happy one. No one ever had a happier 
 girlhood than I." 
 
 " Yes, you were very happy ; you did not fret 
 over the constant self-repression. I don't sup- 
 pose you were conscious of it, but I would like 
 to know how many girls would have been more 
 than dutifully content, and would not have en- 
 vied the freedom and pleasures of other girls, 
 from behind the bars of their cage, in other 
 words, the windows of the sick-room. 
 
 " Your next great cause of happiness (after 
 your poor mother's death, and the loss of income 
 which you had always been prepared for) came 
 in your going out as governess and finding a tol- 
 erable position." 
 
 " Oh, a very comfortable one ! " 
 
 "Nevertheless, several governesses had left 
 at the end of three months, and you can't deny
 
 "ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL." 267 
 
 that it took all the time you had to fill the du- 
 ties required." 
 
 " I know ; but they were all so kind to me. I 
 was alone in this country although born here, 
 but they made me one of themselves." 
 
 " Yes, but they got more out of you than a 
 governess ever gives. Why, you actually used 
 to trim Mrs. Plummer's bonnets, write her let- 
 ters, go shopping," 
 
 " Ah, but you forget ; I was never asked to 
 do anything outside of my duties. The rest was 
 doing myself a pleasure." 
 
 " I know, dear, I know all about it," said Mrs. 
 Welles, her eyes resting with tender affection on 
 Molly. 
 
 " Well, then you married the most beautiful 
 young man." Mrs. Welles's voice softened as 
 she came to the tender spot in Molly's memory. 
 "And there, I do think, you had cause for hap- 
 piness. Dear Harry was a sweet fellow ; but 
 every woman who marries the man she loves 
 thinks that, although most of them would have 
 allowed the treatment of his family to mar the 
 perfection of their lives. The outward cir- 
 cumstances of your marriage were not brilliant ; 
 you had to work hard for all your pleasure. 
 Look at me ; I have been a fairly happy and 
 fortunate woman. I did nothing to deserve the 
 easy and luxurious life I have led since my
 
 268 MOLLY BISHOP'S FAMILY. 
 
 marriage. But I confess I am not overpowered 
 by a sense of my own unwortliiness, nor do I 
 dread a calamity in consequence. Then, dear, 
 this great happiness ended so soon that because 
 it was so great you might well consider your 
 loss misfortune enough to counterbalance all 
 great blessings since. But you were of different 
 stuff ; you did not make a moan over the cruelty 
 of fate, although we all thought it was cruel for 
 you. Then the position of a young widow, with 
 two young children and posthumous baby, does 
 not seem to me a very fortunate one, nor the life 
 of hard work and unflagging duty you have led 
 since. 
 
 " In fact, dear Molly, I think to most women 
 the story would seem a piteous one of a very 
 hard life, full of troubles. The happiness of it 
 has been in you, dear, who have never looked 
 out for the woe, the struggles, and hardships in 
 it, but only for its blessings. Above all, you 
 have never taken to pitying yourself. Instead 
 of comparing yourself with people less deserving 
 but better off (me, for example, who, though 
 I 'm good-natured, never have been called upon 
 for self-denial), and wondering why you should 
 struggle and they not, as most of us do, you have 
 compared yourself with the less well off, and 
 been grateful.
 
 "ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL." 269 
 
 " I could almost preach a sermon on your life, 
 Molly, and the text would be, ' Work hard with- 
 out thinking it hard, and that " will-o'-the-wisp " 
 perfect happiness will come without seeking. 
 If ever a woman reaped the harvest she has 
 sowed, that woman is Molly Bishop ! ' ' 
 
 Molly's eyes were brimming, her lips quivered 
 at this true friend's words. They loved each 
 other well, although they did not often say much 
 about it. It was sweet to find Charlotte thought 
 so well of her, but even that seemed only an- 
 other instance of her good fortune ; she had even 
 more and better friends than most people. 
 
 The story of Molly Bishop's struggles is told. 
 The calamity she feared when her cup seemed 
 overflowing has not overtaken her yet. May it 
 never be more than the shadow thrown by the 
 sun of happiness. 
 
 Meg lives in a beautiful home near -her 
 mother, and is as happy as can be. 
 
 John, who believes he is destined to do great 
 things in the way of chemical discovery (and 
 what is more others think so too), is very con- 
 stantly with Lois ; and Molly and Mrs. Welles 
 have a pleasant conviction that their friendship 
 will be cemented by a marriage between the two 
 families.
 
 270 MOLLY BISHOPS FAMILY. 
 
 Kate vows she will never marry, but will stay 
 with her mother and devote herself to her pro- 
 fession. But Kate is very young yet, and such 
 resolutions are frequent with very young women. 
 
 THE END.
 
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