Chapter 16 - Bread and Button-Holes
“What in the world is my girl thinking about all alone here， with such a solemn face？” asked Dr. Alec， coming into the study， one November day， to find Rose sitting there with folded hands and a very thoughtful aspect.
“Uncle， I want to have some serious conversation with you， if you have time，” she said， coming out of a brown study， as if she had not heard his question.
“I‘m entirely at your service， and most happy to listen，” he answered， in his politest manner， for when Rose put on her womanly little airs he always treated her with a playful sort of respect that pleased her very much.
Now， as he sat down beside her， she said， very soberly—
“I‘ve been trying to decide what trade I would learn， and I want you to advise me.”
“Trade， my dear？” and Dr. Alec looked so astonished that she hastened to explain.
“I forgot that you didn‘t hear the talk about it up at Cosey Corner. You see we used to sit under the pines and sew， and talk a great deal—all the ladies， I mean—and I liked it very much. Mother Atkinson thought that everyone should have a trade， or something to make a living out of， for rich people may grow poor， you know， and poor people have to work. Her girls were very clever， and could do ever so many things， and Aunt Jessie thought the old lady was right； so when I saw how happy and independent those young ladies were， I wanted to have a trade， and then it wouldn’t matter about money， though I like to have it well enough.”
Dr. Alec listened to this explanation with a curious mixture of surprise， pleasure， and amusement in his face， and looked at his little niece as if she had suddenly changed into a young woman. She had grown a good deal in the last six months， and an amount of thinking had gone on in that young head which would have astonished him greatly could he have known it all， for Rose was one of the children who observe and meditate much， and now and then nonplus their friends by a wise or curious remark.
“I quite agree with the ladies， and shall be glad to help you decide on something if I can，” said the Doctor seriously. “What do you incline to？ A natural taste or talent is a great help in choosing， you know.”
“I haven‘t any talent， or any especial taste that I can see， and that is why I can’t decide， uncle. So， I think it would be a good plan to pick out some very useful business and learn it， because I don‘t do it for pleasure， you see， but as a part of my education， and to be ready in case I’m ever poor，” answered Rose， looking as if she rather longed for a little poverty so that her useful gift might be exercised.
“Well， now， there is one very excellent， necessary， and womanly accomplishment that no girl should be without， for it is a help to rich and poor， and the comfort of families depends upon it. This fine talent is neglected nowadays， and considered old-fashioned， which is a sad mistake， and one that I don‘t mean to make in bringing up my girl. It should be a part of every girl’s education， and I know of a most accomplished lady who will teach you in the best and pleasantest manner.”
“Oh， what is it？” cried Rose eagerly， charmed to be met in this helpful and cordial way.
“Housekeeping！” answered Dr. Alec.
“Is that an accomplishment？” asked Rose， while her face fell， for she had indulged in all sorts of vague， delightful dreams.
“Yes； it is one of the most beautiful as well as useful of all the arts a woman can learn. Not so romantic， perhaps， as singing， painting， writing， or teaching， even； but one that makes many happy and comfortable， and home the sweetest place in the world. Yes， you may open your big eyes； but it is a fact that I had rather see you a good housekeeper than the greatest belle in the city. It need not interfere with any talent you may possess， but it is a necessary part of your training， and I hope that you will set about it at once， now that you are well and strong.”
“Who is the lady？” asked Rose， rather impressed by her uncle‘s earnest speech.
“Is she accomplished？” began Rose in a wondering tone， for this great-aunt of hers had seemed the least cultivated of them all.
“In the good old-fashioned way she is very accomplished， and has made this house a happy home to us all， ever since we can remember. She is not elegant， but genuinely good， and so beloved and respected that there will be universal mourning for her when her place is empty. No one can fill it， for the solid， homely virtues of the dear soul have gone out of fashion， as I say， and nothing new can be half so satisfactory， to me at least.”
“I should like to have people feel so about me. Can she teach me to do what she does， and to grow as good？” asked Rose， with a little prick of remorse for even thinking that Aunt Plenty was a commonplace old lady.
“Yes， if you don‘t despise such simple lessons as she can give. I know it would fill her dear old heart with pride and pleasure to feel that anyone cared to learn of her， for she fancies her day gone by. Let her teach you how to be what she has been—a skilful， frugal， cheerful housewife； the maker and the keeper of a happy home， and by and by you will see what a valuable lesson it is.”
“I will， uncle. But how shall I begin？”
“I‘ll speak to her about it， and she will make it all right with Dolly， for cooking is one of the main things， you know.”
“So it is！ I don‘t mind that a bit， for I like to mess， and used to try at home； but I had no one to tell me， so I never did much but spoil my aprons. Pies are great fun， only Dolly is so cross， I don’t believe she will ever let me do a thing in the kitchen.”
“Then we‘ll cook in the parlour. I fancy Aunt Plenty will manage her， so don’t be troubled. Only mind this， I‘d rather you learned how to make good bread than the best pies ever baked. When you bring me a handsome， wholesome loaf， entirely made by yourself， I shall be more pleased than if you offered me a pair of slippers embroidered in the very latest style. I don’t wish to bribe you， but I‘ll give you my heartiest kiss， and promise to eat every crumb of the loaf myself.”
“It‘s a bargain！ it’s a bargain！ Come and tell aunty all about it， for I‘m in a hurry to begin，” cried Rose， dancing before him toward the parlor， where Miss Plenty sat alone knitting contentedly， yet ready to run at the first call for help of any sort， from any quarter.
No need to tell how surprised and gratified she was at the invitation she received to teach the child the domestic arts which were her only accomplishments， nor to relate how energetically she set about her pleasant task. Dolly dared not grumble， for Miss Plenty was the one person whom she obeyed， and Phebe openly rejoiced， for these new lessons brought Rose nearer to her， and glorified the kitchen in the good girl‘s eyes.
To tell the truth， the elder aunts had sometimes felt that they did not have quite their share of the little niece who had won their hearts long ago， and was the sunshine of the house. They talked it over together sometimes， but always ended by saying that as Alec had all the responsibility， he should have the larger share of the dear girl‘s love and time， and they would be contented with such crumbs of comfort as they could get.
Dr. Alec had found out this little secret， and， after reproaching himself for being blind and selfish， was trying to devise some way of mending matters without troubling anyone， when Rose‘s new whim suggested an excellent method of weaning her a little from himself. He did not know how fond he was of her till he gave her up to the new teacher， and often could not resist peeping in at the door to see how she got on， or stealing sly looks through the slide when she was deep in dough， or listening intently to some impressive lecture from Aunt Plenty. They caught him at it now and then， and ordered him off the premises at the point of the rolling-pin； or， if unusually successful， and， therefore， in a milder mood， they lured him away with bribes of ginger-bread， a stray pickle， or a tart that was not quite symmetrical enough to suit their critical eyes.
Of course he made a point of partaking copiously of all the delectable messes that now appeared at table， for both the cooks were on their mettle， and he fared sumptuously every day. But an especial relish was given to any dish when， in reply to his honest praise of it， Rose coloured up with innocent pride， and said modestly—
“I made that， uncle， and I‘m glad you like it.”
It was some time before the perfect loaf appeared， for bread-making is an art not easily learned， and Aunt Plenty was very thorough in her teaching； so Rose studied yeast first， and through various stages of cake and biscuit came at last to the crowning glory of the “handsome， wholesome loaf.” It appeared at tea-time， on a silver salver， proudly borne in by Phebe， who could not refrain from whispering， with a beaming face， as she set it down before Dr. Alec—
“Ain‘t it just lovely， sir？”
“It is a regularly splendid loaf！ Did my girl make it all herself？” he asked， surveying the shapely， sweet-smelling object with real interest and pleasure.
“Every particle herself， and never asked a bit of help or advice from anyone，” answered Aunt Plenty， folding her hands with an air of unmitigated satisfaction， for her pupil certainly did her great credit.
“I‘ve had so many failures and troubles that I really thought I never should be able to do it alone. Dolly let one splendid batch burn up because I forgot it. She was there and smelt it， but never did a thing， for she said， when I undertook to bake bread I must give my whole mind to it. Wasn’t it hard？ She might have called me at least，” said Rose， recollecting， with a sigh， the anguish of that moment.
“She meant you should learn by experience， as Rosamond did in that little affair of the purple jar， you remember.”
“I always thought it very unfair in her mother not to warn the poor thing a little bit； and she was regularly mean when Rosamond asked for a bowl to put the purple stuff in， and she said， in such a provoking way， ‘I did not agree to lend you a bowl， but I will， my dear.’ Ugh！ I always want to shake that hateful woman， though she was a moral mamma.”
“Never mind her now， but tell me all about my loaf，” said Dr. Alec， much amused at Rose‘s burst of indignation.
“There‘s nothing to tell， uncle， except that I did my best， gave my mind to it， and sat watching over it all the while it was in the oven till I was quite baked myself. Everything went right this time， and it came out a nice， round， crusty loaf， as you see. Now taste it， and tell me if it is good as well as handsome.”
“Must I cut it？ Can‘t I put it under a glass cover and keep it in the parlor as they do wax flowers and fine works of that sort？”
“What an idea， uncle！ It would mould and be spoilt. Besides， people would laugh at us， and make fun of my old-fashioned accomplishment. You promised to eat it， and you must； not all at once， but as soon as you can， so I can make you some more.”
Dr. Alec solemnly cut off his favourite crusty slice， and solemnly ate it； then wiped his lips， and brushing back Rose‘s hair， solemnly kissed her on the forehead， saying， heartily—
“My dear， it is perfect bread， and you are an honour to your teacher. When we have our model school I shall offer a prize for the best bread， and you will get it.”
“I‘ve got it already， and I’m quite satisfied，” said Rose， slipping into her seat， and trying to hide her right hand which had a burn on it.
But Dr. Alec saw it， guessed how it came there， and after tea insisted on easing the pain which she would hardly confess.
“Aunt Clara says I am spoiling my hands， but I don‘t care， for I’ve had such good times with Aunt Plenty， and I think she has enjoyed it as much as I have. Only one thing troubles me， uncle， and I want to ask you about it，” said Rose， as they paced up and down the hall in the twilight， the bandaged hand very carefully laid on Dr. Alec‘s arm.
“More little confidences？ I like them immensely， so tell away， my dear.”
“Well， you see I feel as if Aunt Peace would like to do something for me， and I‘ve found out what it can be. You know she can’t go about like Aunty Plen， and we are so busy nowadays that she is rather lonely， I‘m afraid. So I want to take lessons in sewing of her. She works so beautifully， and it is a useful thing， you know， and I ought to be a good needlewoman as well as housekeeper， oughtn’t I？”
“Bless your kind little heart， that is what I was thinking of the other day when Aunt Peace said she saw you very seldom now， you were so busy I wanted to speak of it， but fancied you had as much on your hands as you could manage. It would delight the dear woman to teach you all her delicate handicraft， especially button-holes， for I believe that is where young ladies fail； at least， I‘ve heard them say so. So， do you devote your mind to button-holes； make ’em all over my clothes if you want something to practice on. I‘ll wear any quantity.”
Rose laughed at this reckless offer， but promised to attend to that important branch， though she confessed that darning was her weak point. Whereupon Uncle Alec engaged to supply her with socks in all stages of dilapidation， and to have a new set at once， so that she could run the heels for him as a pleasant beginning.
Then they went up to make their request in due form， to the great delight of gentle Aunt Peace， who got quite excited with the fun that went on while they would yarn， looked up darning needles， and fitted out a nice little mending basket for her pupil.
Very busy and very happy were Rose‘s days now， for in the morning she went about the house with Aunt Plenty attending to linen-closets and store-rooms， pickling and preserving， exploring garret and cellar to see that all was right， and learning， in the good old-fashioned manner， to look well after the ways of the household.
In the afternoon， after her walk or drive， she sat with Aunt Peace plying her needle， while Aunt Plenty， whose eyes were failing， knitted and chatted briskly， telling many a pleasant story of old times， till the three were moved to laugh and cry together， for the busy needles were embroidering all sorts of bright patterns on the lives of the workers， though they seemed to be only stitching cotton and darning hose.
It was a pretty sight to see the rosy-faced little maid sitting between the two old ladies， listening dutifully to their instructions， and cheering the lessons with her lively chatter and blithe laugh. If the kitchen had proved attractive to Dr. Alec when Rose was there at work， the sewing-room was quite irresistible， and he made himself so agreeable that no one had the heart to drive him away， especially when he read aloud or spun yarns.
“There！ I‘ve made you a new set of warm night-gowns with four button-holes in each. See if they are not neatly done，” said Rose， one day， some weeks after the new lessons began.
“Even to a thread， and nice little bars across the end so I can‘t tear them when I twitch the buttons out. Most superior work， ma’am， and I‘m deeply grateful； so much so， that I’ll sew on these buttons myself， and save those tired fingers from another prick.”
“You sew them on？” cried Rose， with her eyes wide open in amazement.
“Wait a bit till I get my sewing tackle， and then you shall see what I can do.”
“Can he， really？” asked Rose of Aunt Peace， as Uncle Alec marched off with a comical air of importance.
“Oh， yes， I taught him years ago， before he went to sea； and I suppose he has had to do things for himself， more or less， ever since； so he has kept his hand in.”
He evidently had， for he was soon back with a funny little work-bag， out of which he produced a thimble without a top； and， having threaded his needle， he proceeded to sew on the buttons so handily that Rose was much impressed and amused.
“I wonder if there is anything in the world that you cannot do，” she said， in a tone of respectful admiration.
“There are one or two things that I am not up to yet，” he answered， with a laugh in the corner of his eye， as he waxed his thread with a flourish.
“I should like to know what？”
“Bread and button-holes， ma‘am.”