University of Virginia Library

13. CHAPTER XIII
AUNT RUTH.

The next day, Mr. Harley, having settled all
the bills for the preceding evening, took the
account which the grocer had presented, and
exhibited it to his wife, not knowing that she
had seen it, in the midst of her excitement
about the party. He gave her a full account
of what he considered to be the fraud of the
housekeeper, the duplicity of the cook, even
the secrecy of Dorcas, who knew she was
doing wrong at their instigation.

“I shall pay this bill,” continued he, “but it
will be the last time I shall be thus duped by
surrendering my rights to the care of an artful
housekeeper.” He then looked over the
items as they appeared in the book, and painful
as it was to Mrs. Harley, he requested her
to hear them. “Here,” observed he, “are butter,
flour, sugar, eggs, and a number of other
articles, which could not have been consumed
by us, as there was a full supply of these articles

when those people came into the house.
It is shameful to suffer one's self to be so imposed
upon. What did they do with the firkins
and boxes these things came in?” asked
he of Dorcas, who was amusing Johnny; “I
never saw them.”

“They are in the lower cellar,” answered
Dorcas, “excepting what was split to kindle
the fire.”

Just at this time Aunt Ruth arrived. Mrs.
Harley received her with more cordiality than
she felt, having no very great desire that her
husband's aunt should witness such poor specimens
of housekeeping as would everywhere
meet her in the house. Mr. Harley was truly
delighted to see her.

Aunt Ruth was not one of your overbearing,
fault-finding managers, who assert that
“things ought to be done so and so,” but with
great gentleness she moved from one place to
another, directing here, and assisting there,
until she found all her aims accomplished.
She proceeded upon such a delightful and
easy system, that she seldom changed her
help unless they married or died; thus she had
acquired the reputation of being a “perfect

mistress of a family.” To pass a few weeks
with her nephew at this time was no very
enviable situation; but, assuming no airs, and
feeling that she had come into the family for a
short time only, and for the express purpose of
making herself useful, she had a conversation
with Mr. Harley and his wife the very evening
she arrived, part of which I will narrate.

“I saw, William,” she began, “by the tenour
of your letter, that you were troubled with
faithless servants. Why is it I hear so much
about difficulties of this kind in this city? I
scarcely see a lady who does not tell me
some pitiful tale of her servants' prodigality,
want of order and system; of their faithlessness
when she is out; of their deceit or theft,
and sometimes of their intemperate habits.
To me all this is a perfect riddle, for I never
had such trials in my thirty-seven years, housekeeping.”

“Because you live in the country,” said
Mrs. Harley, “where servants are better than
they are here: they have no temptations to
do wrong there.”

“They fear to do it, more likely,” said Mr.
Harley, “under the eye of such a mistress.”

“No, I think that is not all, William,” said
Aunt Ruth; “I think a part of the trouble results
from the employers as well as the employed.
Ladies are not sufficiently interested
in domestic life; they feel as though it were a
weight which they could throw off upon their
domestics. Their mothers have been unfaithful
in not requiring them to take a part in superintending
in their father's family before
they enter upon one of their own; and, consequently,
they feel as though it were a kind
of menial labour, unbecoming their station;
while the truth is, by this neglect they become
the servants of those whom they employ. I
have heard such people often laughed at by
the very help in whom they repose all their
confidence.”

“Well, for my part,” said Mrs. Harley, “I
do think it is perfect drudgery to oversee one's
affairs; besides, servants always detest those
bustling women who are forever looking after
them. I should have changed much oftener
than I have, had my eyes followed them about
their employment. Mrs. Hopkins, my last
housekeeper, used to say, `Keep yourself up
stairs, Mrs. Harley, and your help will do very

well; but come down among them, and you
lose your dignity at once.”'

“Who made that remark, my dear?” inquired
Aunt Ruth, mildly.

“A designing, artful woman,” answered Mr.
Harley, without giving his wife time to speak;
“one to whom we intrusted everything, but
who abused our confidence, and whose artifices
I was just exposing to my wife as you
came in.” Here he gave her the particulars
of the grocer's account, and some other deceptions
he had discovered.

“But why,” said Aunt Ruth, “did you have
a housekeeper? Was Mrs. Harley ill, or did
she find the cares too great for her?”

“Neither,” said Mr. Harley; “I suppose she
found it fashionable to keep one for appearance'
sake. I am sure I saw no good she did. However,
I think we have both been taught by experience
that we had better be our own housekeepers.
I wish you would teach my wife
your system, for we are determined to begin
to live with less expense. Why, how much
do you suppose I have paid, Aunt Ruth, for
incidental expenses since January—or about

twelve weeks—including fires, help, party, and
everything, excepting dress?”

Aunt Ruth hesitated: “She knew little of
city life,” she said; “but, supposing they had
not been very economical, perhaps their expenses
amounted to three hundred dollars.”

“Bless me,” said Mr. Harley, “it is more
than seven hundred!”

“Seven hundred!” repeated Aunt Ruth;
“why, you could buy a small farm for that
sum. It does appear to me that you might
save a good deal; indeed, I do not see how
you could spend so much.”

“La!” said Mrs. Harley, “some people
spend that sum in one evening for a party.
What is the use of having money, if it is all
hoarded, where it does no one any good?”

“Very true, Mary,” replied Aunt Ruth;
“but you know we are accountable for the
use we make of our wealth. It appears to
me that every one should set apart something
for the good of others; besides, we ought to
provide for the future, lest, by any accident,
we should be rendered incapable of activity
and farther accumulation. I had a neighbour
once, who lavished all she could obtain upon

herself—dressed richly, and gave splendid entertainments—yet
was always excusing herself
from visiting the needy, because her time
was so fully occupied with her numerous
friends. At length her husband failed, and
they were obliged to sink into comparative
obscurity, deserted entirely by those butterfly
friends who had basked in her sunshine.”

“It is a pretty fair sample of the conduct of
worldly friends,” said Mr. Harley. “Mary
and I gave a party to some friends last night.
She spent her time and thoughts upon it for a
number of weeks, and to-day she has been in
the `horrors,' lest they saw something to be offended
or to laugh at.”

“Now, husband, don't say so; I have been
troubled because my dress, on which I expended
so much, is nearly ruined.”

“How much did it cost, dear?” inquired
Aunt Ruth.

“Let her guess, William,” said Mrs. Harley.

“Thirty dollars,” said Aunt Ruth, “if you
will set me to guessing.”

“It cost me fifty-six dollars,” replied Mrs.
Harley; “and if I had had my way in trimming

it, it would have been seventy-five. However,
I am glad now I did not, for there was
such a crowd, it looked just as well plain.”

“Do not talk any more to me of such round
numbers,” said Aunt Ruth; “I shall be really
frightened, and think William will fail without
any doubt. I don't wonder he thinks of reducing
his expenses.”

“To be serious, aunt,” said Mr. Harley, “will
you lend us your assistance in this work of reform?
I have been examining my affairs lately,
and find I cannot, with safety, exceed two
thousand dollars a year. If I continue as we
have gone on this winter, ruin must ensue, and
if it is possible to avert it, I pray you to help
us before it is too late. I do not wish you to
labour, of course; but I have such a high opinion
of your system of housekeeping, that I wish
you would put it in practice here. And I shall
want you, Mary, to attend to Aunt Ruth, and
profit by every hint she gives, and try to follow
her example. We will begin to-morrow;
and first of all, we will send Jethro away; all
he does is to tease and laugh at Dinah.”

“Don't, Mr. Harley, turn him away till
the ladies have called who came to the party;

he will be so prompt to attend to the door.
Everybody will think then that we keep a
man constantly,” cried Mrs. Harley.

“That will not add to my credit in the least,”
said Mr. Harley, “and I am determined to dismiss
him to-morrow. What do you say to it,
Aunt Ruth?”

“William,” said she, “I shall find myself
treading on delicate ground if I give my opinion
contrary to your wife's ideas; I am sure I
would not, for the world, interfere with her
rights, or injure her feelings.”

“If you will only see that things go on well
in the kitchen,” replied Mrs. Harley, “I will
engage not to take offence—only don't make
me a drudge.”

“Certainly not,” said the kind aunt; “no
lady deserves that appellation because she
oversees her own affairs. I recollect a remark
of an eminent divine, which struck me when I
read it: `Economy is the order of the universe:
no woman should think it beneath her
to follow in her household the rule which governs
the operations of Providence.”'

“But does it not involve one in a great deal
of care and anxiety?” inquired Mrs. Harley.

“You know I have not much time to give to
domestic concerns, as John requires so much
care. Besides, ladies must go out a great deal,
and be dressed to receive company: how can
they do all this and work?”

“My dear, you confound all good management
with labour: this is not correct. You
can go to your kitchen after breakfast, take a
survey of things, direct what shall be done,
give orders about your dinner, and if your servants
are faithful and capable, they will execute
your directions. If not, you have an opportunity
of discovering it; but if you are never
seen in your kitchen, they become careless
and indifferent like yourself.”

“You see, my dear, that is good reasoning,”
said Mr. Harley. “Now, to please me, I wish
you to begin to-morrow, and try what you can
do. I will provide just as many servants as
you wish, if you will see they are properly
employed.”

Mrs. Harley yawned, gave a kind of assent,
and here the conversation ended for the night.