th frank
confession of poverty, or a numerous household and everything _comme il
faut_. There's no middle way, with peace. I think your determination to
take care of Hughie yourself was admirable; but it won't work. These
two women think you do it because you can't afford a nurse, and at once
they despise us. It's the nature of the beasts--it's the tone of the
time. Nothing will keep them and their like in subordination but a
jingling of the purse. One must say to them all day long, "I am your
superior; I can buy you by the dozen, if need be; I never need soil my
finger with any sort of work, and you know it." Ruth was a good
creature, but I seriously doubt whether she would have been quite so
good if she hadn't seen us keeping our horse and our gardener and our
groom down yonder--everything handsome about us. For the sake of
quietness we must exalt ourselves.'

'You're quite right about Ruth,' replied Alma, laughing. 'Several times
she has let me see how she admired my life of idleness; but it's just
that I don't want to go back to.'

'No need. Ruth was practically a housekeeper. You can manage your own
house, but you must have a servant for everything. Get a nurse, by all
means.'

Alma drew a breath of contentment.

'You are not dissatisfied with _me_, Harvey?'

'Of course not.'

'But tell me--how does Mrs. Morton manage? Why isn't she despised by
her servants when she's always so busy?'

Harvey had to close his lips against the first answer which occurred to
him.

'For one thing,' he replied, 'there's a more natural state of things in
those little towns; something of the old spirit still lives. Then the
Mortons have the immense advantage of being an old family, settled
there for generations, known and respected by everyone. That's a kind
of superiority one can't buy, and goes for a great deal in comfortable
living. Morton's servants are the daughters of people who served his
parents. From their childhood they have thought it would be a privilege
to get into that house.'

'Impossible in London.'

'Unless you are a duchess.'

'What a pleasant thing it must be,' said Alma musingly, 'to have
ancestors.'

Harvey chuckled.

'The next best thing is to have descendants.'

'Why, then,' exclaimed Alma, 'we become ancestors ourselves. But one
ought to have an interesting house to live in. Nobody's ancestors ever
lived in a semi-detached villa. What I should like would be one of
those picturesque old places