ast survived to
bolster up a spineless, spiritless, and decadent generation. To love one's
enemies was a weak creed. Martin neither loved them nor pretended to.
Never, never, would he forgive the insults the Websters had heaped upon
his family. He wished no positive harm to Ellen Webster; but he certainly
wished her no good.

Mary, Eliza, and Jane had too much timidity and too great a craving for
peace not to conform outwardly at least to their brother's wishes.
Accordingly they bent their necks to his will; for did not Martin rule the
house?

Had you inquired of any of the sisters the Howes' breakfast hour, you
would have been told that breakfast was served when Martin pleased. It was
the sound of his step upon the stair that set preparations for the morning
meal in motion. So it was with every other detail of the home. When he
appeared in the doorway his handmaidens sprang to serve him, and so long
as he lingered beneath the roof they stayed their impatient hands from any
task that would create noise or confusion, and disturb his tranquillity.
It was not until the ban of his presence was removed that they ventured to
resume the mopping, dusting, or cooking in which they had been engaged
before his entrance.

It would have been interesting to know how Martin explained to himself
the lack of machinery in his household, and how he reconciled the
spotlessness of his home with the apparent idleness of his sisters. His
hearth was always swept; the dishes noiselessly washed; the beds made as
if by magic; and the cleaning done without shadow of inconvenience to him.
So long as these processes were not forced upon his consciousness and were
faultlessly performed, he accepted the results without comment. But let
one cog of the wheel slip, setting the mechanism of his comfort awry, and
he was sure to mention it.

Possibly it was because he himself performed his out-of-door duties well
that he demanded, and felt he had the right to demand a similar perfection
within doors. In fact, he drew the lines of demarkation between the
masculine and feminine spheres of service so sharply that his sisters
would have died before they would have asked his aid in any domestic
difficulty. Faithfully he met every obligation he considered to be within
a man's province,--bringing wood, coal, and kindlings with the courtesy of
a courtier; but the fowl browning in the oven might have burned to ebony
before Martin would have lifted a finger to re