in the evening polly had her interview with her father. dr. maybright had gone through a long and fatiguing day; some anxious cases caused him disquiet, and his recent sorrow lay heavily against his heart. how was the father of seven daughters, and two very scampish little sons, to[pg 20] bring them up alone and unaided? how was a man’s own heart to do without the sympathy to which it had turned, the love which had strengthened, warmed, and sustained it? dr. maybright was standing by the window, looking out at the familiar garden, which showed shadowy and indistinct in the growing dusk, when polly crept softly into the room, and, going up to his side, laid her pretty dimpled hand on his arm.

“now, father,” she said, eagerly, “about the housekeeping? i’m all prepared—shall we go into the subject now?”

dr. maybright sighed, and with an effort roused himself out of a reverie which was becoming very painful.

“my little girl,” he said, pushing back the tumbled hair from polly’s sunshiny face. then he added, with a sudden change of manner, “oh, what a goose you are, polly—you know as much about housekeeping as i do, and that is nothing at all.”

“i wouldn’t make bold assertions,” replied polly, saucily—“i wouldn’t really, father dear; i couldn’t cure a sick person, of course not, but i could make a very nice cake for one.”

“well, let’s go into the matter,” said the doctor moving to his study table. “i have a quarter of an hour to give you, my dear, then i want to go into the village to see mrs. judson before she settles for the night; she has a nasty kind of low fever about her, and her husband is anxious, so i promised to look in. by the way, polly, don’t any of you go nearer the judsons’ house until i give you leave; walk at the other side of the village, if you must go there at all. now, my dear, about this housekeeping. are you seriously resolved to force your attentions upon us for a week? we shall certainly all be most uncomfortable, and severe attacks of indigestion will probably be the result. is your heart set on this, polly, child? for, if so—well, your mother never thwarted you, did she?”

“no, father, never—but don’t talk of mother, for i don’t think i can bear it. when i was with mother somehow or other, i don’t know why, i, never wished for anything she did not like.”

“just so, my dear child. turn up the lamp, if you please, polly—sit there, will you—i want to see your face. now i will reply to the first part of your last remark. you asked me not to speak of your mother, my dear; i certainly will mention her name to her children. she has gone away, but she is still one with us. why should our dearest household word be buried? why should not her influence reach you and helen and dolly from where she now is? she is above—she has gone into the higher life, but she can lead you up. you understand me, polly. thoughts of your mother must be your best, your noblest thoughts from this out.”

“yes, father, yes,” said polly. her lips were trembling,[pg 21] her eyes were brimful, she clasped and unclasped her hands with painful tension.

dr. maybright bent forward and kissed her on her forehead.

“your mother once said to me,” he continued, in a lighter tone, “polly is the most peculiar and difficult to manage of all my children. she has a vein of obstinacy in her which no persuasion will overcome. it can only be reached by the lessons which experience teaches. if possible, and where it is not absolutely wrong, i always give polly her own way. she is a truthful child, and when her eyes are opened she seldom asks to repeat the experiment.”

“mother was thinking of the hive of honey,” said polly, gravely. “when i worried her dreadfully she let me go and take some honey away. i thought i could manage the bees just as cleverly as hungerford does, but i got nervous just at the end, and i was stung in four places. i never told any one about the stings, only mother found out.”

“you did not fetch any more honey from that hive, eh, polly?” asked the doctor.

“no, father. and then there was another time—and oh, yes, many other times. but i did not know mother was just trying to teach me, when she seemed so kind and sympathizing, and used to say in that voice of hers—you remember mother’s cheerful voice, father?—‘well, polly, it is a difficult thing, but do your best.’”

“all right, child,” said the doctor, “i perceive that your mother’s plan was a wise one. tell me quickly what ideas you have with regard to keeping this establishment together, for it is almost time for me to run away to mrs. judson. i allow eight pounds a week for all household expenses, servants’ wages, coal, light, food, medicine. i shall not allow you to begin with so much responsibility, but for a week you may provide our table.”

“and see after the servants, please, father?” interrupted polly, in an eager voice.

“well, i suppose so, just for one week, that is, after helen has had her turn. your mother always managed, with the help of the vegetables and fruit from the garden, to bring the mere table expenses into four pounds a week; but she was a most excellent manager.”

“oh, father, i can easily do it too. why it’s a lot of money! four pounds—eighty shillings! i shouldn’t be a bit surprised if i did it for less.”

“remember, polly, i allow no stinting; we must have a plentiful table. no stinting, and no running in debt. those are the absolute conditions, otherwise i do not trust you with a penny.”

“i’ll keep them, father—never fear! oh, how delighted i am! i know you’ll be pleased; i know what you’ll say by-and-by. i’m certain i won’t fail, certain. i always loved cooking and housekeeping. fancy making pie-crust myself,[pg 22] and cakes, and custards! mrs. power is rather cross, but she’ll have to let me make what things i choose when i’m housekeeper, won’t she, father?”

“manage it your own way, dear, i neither interfere nor wish to interfere. oh, what a mess we shall be in! but thank heaven it is only for a week. my dear child, i allow you to have your way, but i own it is with trepidation. now i must really go to mrs. judson.”

“but one moment, please, father. i have not shown you my plan. you think badly of me now, but you won’t, indeed you won’t presently. i am all system, i assure you. i see my way so clearly. i’ll retrench without being mean, and i’ll economize without being stingy. don’t i use fine words, father? that’s because i understand the subject so thoroughly.”

“quite so, polly. now i must be going. good-night, my dear.”

“but my plan—you must stay to hear it. do you see this box? it has little divisions. i popped them all in before dinner to-day. there is a lock and key to the box, and the lock is a strong one.”

“well, polly?”

the doctor began to get into his overcoat.

“look, father, dear, please look. each little division is marked with a name. this one is groceries, this one is butcher, this is milk, butter, and eggs, this is baker, this is cheesemonger, and this is sundries—oh yes, and laundress, i must screw in a division for laundress somehow. now, father, this is my delightful plan. when you give me my four pounds—my eighty shillings—i’ll get it all changed into silver, and i’ll divide it into equal portions, and drop so much into the grocery department, so much into the butcher’s, so much into the baker’s. don’t you see how simple it will be?”

“very, my dear—the game of chess is nothing to it. goodnight, polly. i sincerely hope no serious results will accrue from these efforts on my part to teach you experience.”

the doctor walked quickly down the avenue.

“i’m quite resolved,” he said to himself, “to bring them all up as much as possible on their mother’s plan, but if polly requires many such lessons as i am forced to give her to-night, there is nothing for it but to send her to school. for really such an experience as we are about to go through at her hands is enough to endanger health, to say nothing of peace and domestic quiet. the fact is, i really am a much worried man. it’s no joke bringing up seven motherless girls, each of them with characters; the boys are a simple matter—they have school before them, and a career of some sort, but the girls—it really is an awful responsibility. even the baby has a strong individuality of her own—i see it already in her brown eyes—bless her, she has got her mother’s eyes. but my queer, wild, clever polly—what a week we[pg 23] shall have with you presently! now, who is that crying and sobbing in the dark?”

the doctor swooped suddenly down on a shadowy object, which lay prone under an arbutus shrub. “my dear little firefly, what is the matter? you ought to be in bed ages ago—out here in the damp and cold, and such deep-drawn sobs! what has nurse been about? this is really extremely careless.”

“it wasn’t nurse’s fault,” sobbed firefly, nestling her head into her father’s cheek. “i ran away from her. i hided from her on purpose.”

“then you were the naughty one. what is the matter, dear? why do you make things worse for me and for us all just now?”

firefly’s head sank still lower. her hot little cheek pressed her father’s with an acute longing for sympathy. instinct told him of the child’s need. he walked down the avenue, holding her closely.

“wasn’t you going the other way, father?” asked firefly, squeezing her arms tight around his neck.

“no matter, i must see you home first. now what were those sobs about? and why did you hide yourself from nurse?”

“’cause i wanted to be down-stairs, to listen to the grown-ups.”

“the grown-ups? my dear, who are they?”

“oh, nell, and poll parrot, and katie; i don’t mind about nell and polly, but it isn’t fair that katie should be made a grown-up—and she is—she is, really, father. she is down in the school-room so important, and just like a regular grown-up, so i couldn’t stand it.”

“i see. you wanted to be a grown-up too—you are seven years old, are you not?”

“i’m more. i’m seven and a half—katie is only eleven.”

“quite so! katie is young compared to you, isn’t she, firefly. still, i don’t see my way. you wished to join the grown-ups, but i found you sobbing on the damp grass under one of the shrubs near the avenue. is it really under a damp arbutus shrub that the grown-ups intend to take counsel?”

“oh no, father, no—” here the sobs began again. “they were horrid, oh they were horrid. they locked me out—i banged against the door, but they wouldn’t open. it was then i came up here. i wouldn’t have minded if it hadn’t been for katie.”

“i see, my child. well, run to bed now, and leave the matter in father’s hands. ask nurse to give you a hot drink, and not to scold, for father knows about it.”

“darling father—oh, how good you are! don’t i love you! just another kiss—what a good father you are!”

firefly hugged the tall doctor ecstatically. he saw her disappear into the house, and once more pursued his way down the avenue.

“good!” he echoed to himself. “never did a more harassed man walk. how am i to manage those girls?”