n a certain way,
your affairs will go on like clock-work."

I could not but assent to all these truisms--for I felt
conscience-stricken. I knew I had always depended in all my
housekeeping emergencies too much on my "talent for improvising," as
Kate Wilson merrily entitles my readiness in a domestic tangle and
stand-still. I had been in the habit of letting things go on as easily
as possible, scrupulously avoiding domestic tempests, because they
deranged my nervous system; and if I found a servant would not do a
thing in my way, I would let her accomplish it in her own manner, and
at her own time--so that it was done, that was all I required. I felt
almost disheartened as the remarks of my precise aunt proved to me how
remiss I had been, and resolved in a very humble mood to reform. Bat
when Aunt Lina continued her conversations about the mismanagement
before my father, then I felt the "old Adam" stir within me. There she
surely was wrong. I could not bear he should have his eyes opened; he
had always fancied me a little queen in my domestic arrangements--why
should he think differently--what good did it do? If he found his
dinner nicely cooked and served, his tea and toast snugly arranged in
the library, in the evening, when he returned wearied from his office,
with his dressing-gown and slippers most temptingly spread out; then
awakened in the morning in a clean, well-ordered bed-room, with Ike at
his elbow to wait his orders, and a warm, cozy breakfast to strengthen
him ere he started out on his daily labors--if all this was carefully
and quietly provided for him, what need of his knowing how it was
done, or what straits I might be driven to sometimes, from my own
thoughtlessness or forgetfulness to accomplish these comforts for him.
I had always scrupulously avoided talking of my household affairs
before him; but when Aunt Lina discoursed so eloquently and learnedly
in his presence, slipping in once in a while such high-sounding words
as "domestic economy," "well-ordered household," "proper distribution
of time and labor," &c., &c., he began to prick up his ears, and fancy
his thrifty little daughter Enna was not quite so excellent in her
management as he had blindly dreamed. Poor man! his former ignorance
had surely been bliss, for his unfortunate knowledge only made him
look vexed and full of care whenever he entered the house. He even
noted the door-handles, as to their brightness, rated poor Ike about
the table