the reins of
household management for a week.

Except in matters that related to his own profession, Dr. Maybright was
apt to be slightly absent-minded; here he was always keenly alive. When
visiting a patient not a symptom escaped him, not a flicker of timid
eyelids passed unnoticed, not a passing shade of color on the invalid's
countenance but called for his acute observation. In household matters,
however, he was apt to overlook trifles, and very often completely to
forget what seemed to his family important arrangements. He was the kind
of man who was sure to be very much beloved at home, for he was neither
fretful nor fussy, but took large views of all things. Such people are
appreciated, and if his children thought him the best of all men, his
servants also spoke of him as the most perfect of masters.

"You might put anything before him," Mrs. Power would aver. "Bless his
'art, _he_ wouldn't see, nor _he_ wouldn't scold. Ef it were rinsings of
the tea-pot he would drink it instead of soup; and I say, and always
will say, that ef a cook don't jelly the soup for the like of a
gentleman like the doctor what have no mean ways and no fusses, she
ain't fit to call herself a cook."

So just because they loved him, Dr. Maybright's servants kept his table
fairly well, and his house tolerably clean, and the domestic machinery
went on wheels, not exactly oiled, but with no serious clog to their
progress.

These things of course happened since Mrs. Maybright's death. In her day
this gentlest and firmest of mistresses, this most tactful of women,
kept all things in their proper place, and her servants obeyed her with
both will and cheerfulness.

On the Saturday before Polly's novitiate poor Dr. Maybright's troubles
began. He had completely forgotten all about his promise to Polly, and
was surprised when the little girl skipped into his study after
breakfast, with her black frock put on more neatly than usual, her hair
well brushed and pushed off her face, and a wonderful brown holland
apron enveloping her from her throat to her ankles. The apron had
several pockets, and certainly gave Polly a quaint and original
appearance.

"Here I am, father," she said. "I have come for the money, please."

"The--the what, my dear?"

Dr. Maybright put up his eye-glass, and surveyed the little figure
critically.

"Are these pockets for your school-books?" he said. "It is not a bad
idea; only don't lose them, Polly. I don't like un