CHAPTER III.

MEALS AND MONEY.

I am going to devote this chapter entirely to the matter of money—that is to say, to indicating how the income should be apportioned, and what it costs to feed a small family who are content with nice plain food, and who do not hanker after elaborate cooking and out-of-the-way dishes; in which case they must not come to me for advice, as I have really no information to give them; and to further indicate as far as I can—outside the limits of a cookery book—some of the meals that can be managed without either much fuss and worry and an undue expenditure of money and time.

If Angelina really intends to marry on an income varying between 300l. and 500l. a year, she must sit down and weigh the pros and cons most carefully. Dress and house-rent are the two items that have risen considerably during the last few years; otherwise everything is much cheaper and nicer than it used to be before New Zealand meat came to the front, and sugar, tea, cheese, all the thousand and one items one requires in a house, became lower than ever they had been before; and therefore, if she be clever and willing to put her shoulder to the domestic wheel, she can most certainly get along much more comfortably in the way of food than she used to do. For example, when I was married, sugar was 6d. a pound, and now it is 2d.; and instead of paying 1s. 1d. a pound for legs of mutton, I give 7½d. for New Zealand meat, which is as good as the best English mutton that one can buy. Bread, too, is 5½d.—and ought to be considerably lower—as against the 8d. and 9d. of seventeen years ago; and, besides this, there are a thousand-and-one small things to be bought that one never used to see, and fish and game are also infinitely less expensive, for in the season salmon is no longer a luxury, thanks to Frank Buckland, while prime cod at 4d. a pound can hardly be looked upon as a sinful luxury, and this is the price we paid in the season in the Central Fish Market, where fish is always to be obtained fresh, cheap, and in as great a variety as at any West End shop; while of course those detestable Stores, much as I personally dislike them, have done much for us in lowering the prices of grocers, who are always willing to give ready-money purchasers every advantage, the while they are civil, send the purchased articles home, make out their own bills, and take care their customers are not worried to death, as they are at the Stores by supercilious youths, who make the place a rendezvous, and simper with girls who have been sent to do shopping, and combine it with large instalments of flirtation. No, I must say I have not one good word for the Stores; and, furthermore, I detest them because, living as I do a little way out of town, I am persecuted on my return journeys with enormous parcels, of all sorts and descriptions, that jam one’s elbows, fall down incontinently on one’s best bonnet, and are pushed under one’s feet, until the twenty minutes’ travel are rendered purgatorial by people who will shop at the Stores, and are in consequence turned completely for the nonce into beasts of burden, all to save a very problematic shilling or two; but as cabs to and from the station have to be added to the fare to town, I venture to state they would be far better served by a local grocer, or by either Whiteley or Shoolbred, whose prices are the same as at the Stores, and whose carts come to one’s door. But these little points are just where the ordinary woman’s finance comes utterly to an end. She can readily comprehend that sugar at 2d. a pound is cheaper than sugar at 3d.; but tell her to add to the cost of this the fare to town, wear and tear of temper, gloves, and clothes, odd cabs, and the necessary luncheon, and she is floored at once. She recognises the 2d. as against the 3d. immediately, but she cannot grasp the rest; besides which, at the Stores she sees one hundred and one things that she buys simply because they are cheap, and not because she requires them in the very least; so if Angelina values her peace of mind let her eschew the Stores, and, instead, talk to her nearest grocer on the subject, and see what can be done with him before she goes elsewhere.

Now, I think, that 2l., or, at the most, 2l. 10s., should keep Angelina, Edwin, and the model maid per week in comfort, and yet allow of no scrimping; but in this case Angelina must put a good deal of common-sense in her purse as well as money. Meat for three people need not be more than 12s., 4s. for bread and flour, 2s. for eggs, 4s. for milk, half a pound of tea at 2s. 6d.—if they will drink tea—1lb. of coffee made of equal proportions of East India, Mocha, and Plantation, comes to about 1s. 7d., sugar 6d., butter (2lbs., enough for three people) 3s., and the rest can be kept in hand for fruit, fish, chickens, washing; and the thousand and one odds and ends that are always turning up at the most unpropitious moments; such as stamps, boot-mending (two items that have largely assisted in turning my hair grey), ink, paper, string, and, in fact, all those things that an unmarried girl rather fancies grow in the house, and that she is very much surprised to find have to be purchased.

In any case, let me implore Angelina to pay her books every week herself, and never on any account to run up bills anywhere for anything. Let her never be tempted to have any single thing that she cannot pay for on the spot; and she will live happily, and be able to ‘speak with her enemies’—if she have any—‘in the gate’; that is to say, she can boldly interview her tradespeople, knowing she owes them nothing, and coming cash in hand can demand the best article in the market, which is, after all, the due of those who go and buy for ready money and should never be given to those who will have credit. There is nothing so dear as credit—please remember that, my readers, and start as you mean to go on by paying for everything as you have it; and, above all, know from your husband what he can give you, and have this regularly once a month. If you are fit to be his wife at all, you are fit to spend his money, and to spend it, moreover, without the haggling and worrying over each item that is considered necessary by some men to show their superiority over their women folk, but which should never be allowed for a moment; and should our bride have a small income of her own, this should be retained for her dress, personal expenses, &c., and should not be put into the common fund, for the man should keep the house and be the bread-winner; but, alas! middle-class brides have seldom anything to call their own, their parents thinking they have done all they need for them, should they find them a husband and a certain amount of clothes.

I very much myself disapprove of the way middle-class parents have of marrying off their daughters and giving them nothing beyond their trousseaux; and I do hope that soon fathers and mothers will copy the French more in this matter of a dowry than they do now. I maintain that they are bound to give their daughters, beyond and over such an education as shall allow them to keep themselves, the same sum when married as they received when unmarried, so shall they be to a certain extent independent and have a little something to call their own. Why, in most cases, if Angelina wants to give Edwin a present she has to buy it out of his own money! Can there be a more unenviable position for a young wife, to whom very often the mere asking for money is as painful as it is degrading? It would not hurt any father to give his daughter 50l. a year, and the difference it would make in that daughter’s comfort and position is unspeakable; and would not be more than half what she would cost him were she to remain on his hands a sour old maid.

Another thing I disapprove of is placing the household books week by week or month by month under the husband’s inspection; it leads to endless jars and frets, and discussions; therefore, having talked matters over once and for all, discuss money no more until you require additions to your allowance as the family increases; or can do with less; only know always how matters are going in business, so as to increase or retrench in a manner suitable, should circumstances alter.

Domestic matters must, of course, be discussed now and again between husband and wife; but a sensible woman keeps these subjects in the background, and no more troubles her husband with the price of butter, or the cook’s delinquencies, than he does his wife over the more intimate details of his office, which he keeps for his clerks and his partners generally; while the day’s papers, the book on hand, people one has seen, are all far more interesting things than Maria’s temper, Jane’s breakages, or than the grocer’s bill, which, if higher than it ought to be, is Angelina’s own fault, and can only be altered by herself, and not by worrying Edwin.

Common-sense housekeeping can only be done if the eyes be constantly open to see and the ears to hear. Waste must never be allowed. No servant should be kept who wastes, and if there be no dust-bin, save for cinders, no pig’s tub, no man calling at the door for bottles, and, above all, if there be a mistress who is always on the alert to use anyone else’s experience, housekeeping need be nothing of a bugbear, and can be done at one quarter the price that it usually costs. But most girls marry in perfect ignorance of everything save the plot of the last novel, the music of the last opera, the fashion of the last dress, and undertake duties they neither care for nor mean to understand, seeing nothing beyond the wedding finery, which is far too often an occasion of almost criminal display, and that must indeed appear a mockery to the poor bride, who contemplates her foolish wedding dress and wishes profoundly she had the money it cost her.

The great curse now of English households is this seeming to be what you are not, this wretched pretending of 400l. to be 800l.; the shirking of work, domestic details, and common-sense housekeeping that characterises the bride of this day, who only wants to enjoy herself and spend a little more, see a little more gaiety than the last bride did, and who sees nothing holy in the name of wife, only a mere emancipation from the schoolroom; who wants to decorate a house, not make a home; and who sees in her children, not human souls to train for time and for eternity, but pretty dolls to dress, to attract attention, or tiresome objects to be got rid of at school at the earliest opportunity.

That marriage means much more than this is gradually borne in upon the butterfly, who either sobers down in the course of years, and becomes faded and worn and peevish; or else, impatient of control, she breaks all bounds, and the whole family is disgraced by an esclandre that is as terrible as it is preventible. With such women as this we have nothing to do; but many of these poor creatures would have been saved had they been brought up properly, so I trust, after all, my words on the subject of common-sense housekeeping will not be considered out of place.

Though they are certainly a little discursive, still they have to do with money emphatically, and that was the first part of the subject I proposed to treat of in this chapter, so before I leave it let me say just a few words on the best system of keeping accounts, a most necessary portion of any woman’s business as mistress of a household.

The best authority I know on the subject of accounts is a personal friend who began housekeeping many years ago on a very small and uncertain income. Her husband was a literary man, and had of course that most tiresome and extravagance-encouraging income—a fluctuating one; yet she told me only the other day she could tell to a sixpence what she had spent ever since she was married; that at the end of the year she always sat down, first with her husband, then with her grown-up daughters, and carefully went over each month’s expenditure, and in this way she was enabled to manage well, for a glance would show her, if she had spent too much, where she could retrench, or where, if the income had increased, she could best ‘launch out’ in order to insure more comforts and less forethought and worry: in consequence of her arrangements she was always beforehand with the world, and never owed a sixpence she could not pay. A young housekeeper is often bewildered between account books. She buys one, of course, and then is bothered by detail, or begins to find ‘sundries’ a most convenient entry—and so, alas! it is. But our model housekeeper shrinks from sundries, or any of these somewhat mean subterfuges, and boldly discovers how she has spent her money, although I must confess I myself am such a bad hand at this sort of thing that, could I be seen, I feel convinced I should be found to be blushing violently at giving advice which I far too often do not follow; indeed, I always feel inclined to imitate the old woman-servant whose balance sheet consisted of so many ‘foggets,’ among other items, that her master (of course he was a bachelor), confused with the idea of having so much firewood, begged her for an explanation, when she remarked, ‘ ’Taint faggots, master; ’tis forgets.’ Fortunately her honesty had been tried by many a long year’s service, or she might have got into serious trouble; and I think when we too have ‘forgets’ we are not unlikely to get into trouble when at last we have to face boldly a day of reckoning, which must come sooner or later.

But if I am not a good hand at accounts my friend is, and I here append a leaf from her account book, which, ruled and written by herself, is to me a model of what it should be. Of course the columns can be added to, to any extent, but this will show at once how to keep one’s bills before one: in such a manner, that one sees at once how and where the money has gone, and I can but hope this capital system will be adopted at once by all those who are starting in life with the best resolve of all, that nothing shall persuade them to get into debt.

And here let me say that there should always be a special column for medical attendance; and without doubting the medical profession in the least, let me impress upon all who have to call in a physician to note his visits in the column set apart for the purpose. I always note a doctor’s visits in my diary, as this often checks his accounts, for, without meaning to be dishonest, a doctor often makes the most astounding mistakes. For example, not long ago I saved myself 7l. on a doctor’s bill by sending an exorbitant account back to my then doctor, drawing his attention to the fact that by my diary only so many visits had been paid, whereas so many had evidently been charged for; when the clerk wrote back to say the error had been made in the addition, and that of course this would have been rectified next time! I can’t say if it would have been; all I know is, I was saved the money by always putting down the visits; so I most strongly advise Angelina to put the column in her account book as a reminder, even if she cannot put down in that the exact sum; and I must say I do most heartily wish it were

etiquette for doctors to send in their bills made out in items, instead of that business way of ‘To medical attendance, &c.,’ for I cannot see why they should not. Even a lawyer gives items of his detestable; and what should we say to a modiste who sent in her bill, ‘To dress and draperies to date,’ without items? I like to know what I am paying for; and why should not my case, mentioned above, be the case of many? One word before I leave the doctor—pay his bill at once; no one is kept waiting longer than a doctor; no one usually deserves his money more; it is a disagreeable bill to keep about, and should be always settled as soon as possible.

Now for one hint more, as applying both to meals and money. If you want to save begin with the butcher and the brewer—not that I for one moment want to run down beer—my husband being a brewer, I should not be likely to do so; and I mention this fact to show I cannot be a rabid teetotaler—but I do say and maintain that beer is not necessary for women and for women servants, that young people especially do not require stimulants—I, for one, never took either wine or beer until I had passed the pleasant age of thirty-one or thirty-two—and that milk is far better for both servants and children, youths and maidens, than malt liquor of any sort or description, and that therefore milk should be a somewhat large item in the housekeeping accounts. Angelina should have milk for luncheon and milk instead of that odious tea after dinner; Mary Jane should be encouraged to drink milk with her supper, and a proportionate save is at once made in the accounts, though, after all, one can only give general ideas on this subject, as, of course, individual tastes have to be studied, and no one person’s expenditure is quite a guide for another’s. Many people dislike milk, and this subject of a pleasant beverage is one that often harasses me mentally a good bit, for I don’t honestly think filtered boiled water pleasant (unfiltered unboiled water is unsafe drinking), and unless we fall back on milk and home-made lemonade, we are rather hopeless, for beer is out of the question, as far as I am concerned, in kitchen and schoolroom, and if some genius would invent something cheap, healthy, palatable, and without alcohol in it, I for one will patronise him largely, and give him honourable mention, if not a medal, all to himself.

Still, until that is done I strongly advise Angelina to pay the milkman rather than the brewer, and by drinking milk herself to set an example which will speak louder than any amount of argument. And general ideas, too, can only be given on the subject of meals. Yet general ideas are most useful as a species of foundation on which to raise the rest of the fabric, so I will shortly sketch out now a foundation scheme that should be of great assistance to those girls who are beginning housekeeping on small means, and less knowledge of the subject on which depends so much of their welfare and happiness.

It maybe of some little assistance to Angelina if I begin my short dissertation on meals by giving her one or two hints as to what to have for breakfast, before passing on to other subjects, as in some small households this always appears to me to be somewhat of a stumbling-block to a young mistress, accustomed to see a large amount of variety, prepared for a grown-up family.

What is eaten for breakfast depends, naturally, a great deal on individual tastes, and there are endless little dishes that require the attention of a first-rate cook; but Angelina and Edwin must rise superior to this, for they will not be able to afford such things even if they desire them, and I do hope they do not, for I do not know a more despicable way of spending one’s time or one’s money than in squandering it over food and expensive cooks. If things are nice and are nicely sent to table, that should suffice, and I think perhaps a few simple hints on the subject would not be out of place, for while Angelina should, of course, order carefully all that is required, I see no reason why she should rack her brain and harass her cook, particularly when that damsel will have to do a great deal besides merely cooking the breakfast.

Whatever else there is not, there should be a little fruit. Oranges, pears, apples, and grapes are cheap enough if purchased with sense, and as ‘dessert,’ as a rule, is unnecessary save for appearances—and we are too sensible to think only of these—I should advise the fruit that nobody appears to grudge the money for then; appearing at breakfast, where it makes the table look pretty, and where it is really good for both young and old folks, too. Then, if possible, have either honey or marmalade, it is much healthier and cheaper than butter, and generally try to have either a tongue (3s. 6d.) or a nice ham (8s. 6d.) in cut, it is such a useful thing to have in the house; as also are sardines (1s. a box, large size, 6½d. small), as if unexpected folk drop in to luncheon, or supper be required instead of dinner, they are there to ‘fall back upon’; and if they appear at breakfast some really fresh eggs, nicely fried bacon, curried kidneys or plain kidneys, mushrooms, a most healthy dish, and not too expensive at some times of the year; curried eggs and rice, bloaters, and bloater-toast, occasionally a fresh sole, a mackerel split open, peppered, and salted and grilled, a cutlet of cod, an occasional sausage (and ever since I can remember we always have had sausages for breakfast on Sundays), form a list from which a single dish can be chosen, and which should suffice, more especially when we consider the honey and fruit, both of which look nice on the table, are more wholesome, and save the butter and meat bill. And once the cook is trained into our ways, and she knows what to do, there is no need to order breakfast, a great comfort for those who have much domestic routine of food to think of before beginning the day. Do not have hot buttered toast or hot bread. Those two items make the butter bill into a nightmare, and are also most unhealthy, but have nice fresh brown bread, Nevill’s hot-water bread, the nicest bread made, oat-cake (2s. a large tin at any good grocer’s), and fresh, crisp, dry toast, and then I think neither Edwin nor Angelina can complain, more especially if a nice white cloth (freshly taken from the press, in which all cloths should be put folded the moment they are taken from the table), with a pretty red border, and nicely folded napkins, each in its own ring and each embroidered with initials in red, be used, and I think that I shall not be suspected of being a fussy old maid, if I suggest that the crumbs should be brushed off by the maid and the cloth folded with Angelina’s assistance, in which case it will last twice as long as it would if, as usual, it is crumpled up and shaken out at the back door in a manner much affected by careless servants. But these trifles save the washing bill, which in these days is no light consideration.

At first another meal that will trouble our bride is that most necessary of all meals—luncheon. By-and-bye, when little folks have to be thought of, this midday dinner becomes a very easy business, but I must own that luncheon and the servant’s dinner combined is a terrible trouble during the first year or two of married life.

I think it was Shirley Brooks who used to say he believed that were women left to themselves they would never have dinner at all, and that they would either keep something in a cupboard and eat from it when positively driven to do so by the pangs of hunger, or else they would have a tray brought up with tea, bread-and-butter, and an egg, and think they had done well; and I confess freely that my first idea when I hear that the lord and master of my establishment is going out to dine is, ‘Thank goodness, there will be no dinner to order;’ but this is all very well occasionally, albeit I don’t see why we women should not have the same amount of food alone as when in company, but it becomes serious if it goes on for long; therefore I once more impress upon Angelina to be sure and have her proper luncheon, just as she used to do at home with her sisters and mother before she was married. Another reason for the midday meal is that no servant will ever grumble at the food prepared for them if it has first been into the dining-room, and a good deal of trouble of this kind would be saved. It is, I own, very difficult to find food for three women that is economical as well as satisfactory, but a fair arrangement would be as follows:—Of course there will be a small piece of beef on Sunday; for a small household about 6 lbs. of the ribs of beef is best. This should be boned (the bones coming in for Monday night’s soup) and rolled, and sent to table with horse-radish, placed on the meat; Yorkshire pudding, which should be cooked under the meat, and sent in on a separate very hot dish, and appropriate vegetables according to the time of year. For a large hungry family a piece of 12 lbs. of the top side of the round should be chosen. There is only very little bone here, and not too much fat, and besides being cheaper than any other joint it is most economical, and as nice as anything else. But more of this anon.

The beef can be cold for Angelina and the maids on Monday, with, say, a lemon pudding. On Tuesday ‘dormers’ can be made, with rice and cold beef, and sent in very hot, with nice gravy, and simple pudding; a mould of cornflour and jam is delicious. Wednesday, a small amount of fish could be purchased, and cold beef used if desired. Rice pudding, made with a méringue crust, is very good indeed. Thursday, if no more beef be left, a nice boiled rabbit could be had, with some bacon round, and a custard pudding. Friday, 1½ lb. of the lean part of the neck of mutton would make a delicious stew, and pancakes could follow. Saturday, about three pounds of pork could be roasted, and sent in with a savoury pudding and apple-sauce, and a sago pudding to conclude the repast. This could be finished cold at Sunday’s supper. Here is variety and economy combined. One great thing I find in housekeeping on a larger scale is to have one or two good-sized joints, and to fill in the corners with fish, poultry, and rabbits. Fish can always be contracted for cheaply. I pay 2s. a day, and get an ample supply for dinner and breakfast, and sometimes enough for the schoolroom tea too; and poultry and rabbits can often be bought at the London markets very inexpensively, while I procure my chickens from delightful people in Liverpool, Messrs. Hasson and Co., 12 Dawson Street, who sell them to me at prices varying from 4s. 6d. to 5s. 6d. the couple, according to the time of year.

Edwin’s dinner requires, of course, more consideration, and he may have very pronounced tastes that require special studying, but in any case I say it is well and economical to have soup and fish before the meat. Soup made from bones and vegetables is as cheap and as nice as anything I know, and sixpence or a shilling a day will keep you in fish, if you set about this properly; but the great thing about all meals is to have what you may like sent to table looking nice, and to have none of the accessories forgotten, an elaborate and expensive meal ungracefully served on ugly china, or without flowers, and with half the condiments forgotten, being often enough to spoil any one’s temper, when a cheap, well-cooked dinner, prettily and tastefully put before Edwin, will satisfy him, more especially when the household books are equally satisfactory when pay-day comes.

Let me conclude this chapter by once more impressing on our young housekeepers never to allow jars and squabbles about money. At first starting know everything about your income, and settle exactly what is to suffice for dress and food, and have a settled day, once a month is best, on which to receive that allowance. Should Edwin have a fixed income this is a comparatively easy matter to settle between husband and wife; but should it fluctuate, as the income does of a man who lives by his pen, pencil, or even by stockbroking (a manner of living that would drive me mad) or by rents from land, it is safe to arrange expenditure on the basis of the least sum obtained by these means, drawing an average for the last three years, any surplus going on joyfully towards the second year, towards procuring books, taking a holiday, or bringing something home for the house; there being no pleasure like that of spending money we can feel is thoroughly our own, and that may actually be wasted if we like on something delightful, because it is not required to pay some odious bill or replace some ugly and necessary article.

CHAPTER IV.

THE HOUSEMAID’S CLOSET, AND GLASS AND CHINA.

One of the very first things to be recollected, either in the kitchen or housemaid’s pantry, is that there should be a place for everything, and yet no holes or corners where dilapidated dusters, old glass-cloths, bottles, and other débris could be stuffed away; and another axiom to remember is that every glass, tumbler, cup, saucer—in fact, every possession one has—should be neatly scheduled and kept in a book, which should be inspected and gone through twice a year, or when any change takes place in the establishment. That disagreeable remark, that so often completely floors a mistress, ‘ ’Twasn’t here when I came,’ would in this case never be heard, as the sight of the list, duly signed and dated by both mistress and maid, would of course be a complete answer to any such statement; and seeing at stated intervals what glass and china had fallen victims to the housemaid is a wonderful deterrent, and also saves any large and sudden call upon the purse, which always comes at a time when the exchequer is at its lowest, but which need never occur in an appreciable manner should each article be replaced the moment it is broken. I am no advocate for having what is called best things, holding that one’s everyday existence should be as refined and cultured as when one has ‘company,’ yet it is necessary in most of our households to have best glass and a best dinner-service, and these should be kept in a proper glass closet, under lock and key, as indeed should all spare glass and china; for, if the most trustworthy housemaid has an unlimited supply at her command, she will never tell of each separate smash, and reserves the grand total for the bi-annual day of reckoning with the book, when the mistress has often to make an outlay that is most disheartening to her, as regards not only the cost, but the blow it is to her to discover the carelessness and deception of, perhaps, a favourite maid, who would have been neither careless nor deceiving had she had to come to her mistress for every single glass over and above the few she had at her command.

Nothing has altered more in the last twenty years, both in character and price, than glass and china, and nothing shows the taste of the mistress of the house more than her plates and tumblers. No one has now any excuse for having ugly things, because good glass is as cheap as bad, and good china can be had by any one who has the taste to choose it, and the knowledge where to go and buy each separate thing. Granted that we have selected our saucepans, our basins, and other necessary things known to any one, and to be chosen from a list either sent for from Maple or Whiteley—for Maple, I have discovered, issues these lists too—and which, it seems to me, would only be waste of paper and time for me to enumerate here, we must, of course, now proceed to think about our dinner set. The best everyday one I know of is a species of plain white china supplied by Maple, and which has the owner’s monogram on the edge of the dish. These plates and dishes are so extremely cheap that when I say they are 2s. a dozen I scarcely expect to be believed, and even now I cannot help thinking there must be a mistake; but the rest of the service was equally inexpensive, and I really do not think I am making an error in giving this as the price. I invariably have my soup-tureens, sauceboats, and vegetable dishes made without handles—a pretty, rather oval shape, with the monogram on the side and on the top of the cover. There is nothing makes a table look worse than chipped or mended crockery; and how often has quite a nice service been spoiled by the fact that either the handles were knocked off and smashed, or else they were riveted on. Now if we have no handles or ornamental knobs to be knocked off, the service lasts three times as long as it otherwise would. The plain white service also insures cleanliness and absence of greasy or black finger-marks, and one never tires of this as one does of the elaborate patterns and colours some people prefer, and which are extremely difficult to match once the manufacturers have broken up the design.

I remember some friends of mine who had a service with a whole flight of red storks on, flying over each plate, and anything more ugly and incongruous it is difficult to think of. I never dined there without remembering the storks, whereas a plain service would not have been noticed in any way. For a best dinner service we should have something better, for of course the china I have been speaking of is not china really; that is to say, I would not see my fingers through it if I held it up to the strongest light that was ever made, and young people who are asked what they would like in the shape of a wedding present should remember that Mortlock, in Oxford Street, has quite charming designs, but even here I should distinctly advise, buy the plain ware, with either monogram or crest, for of this one never tires.

I once saw a charming dinner set that had been made by Mortlock; it was a beautiful pale buff ground, with a black monogram, and the china was of a delicious feel and touch, and as light as possible. Each vegetable dish was an artistic shape, and, in fact, if ever my ship comes home I shall have one like it; at present I have plain white china with a pink and gold band, and the crest and monogram in the centre of each plate, &c.; of course, this was a gift, and the nuisance it is is dreadful, for when a plate is broken I have to send the bits to Staffordshire to be copied, where they keep me waiting months for it, and charge me so highly that I am beginning to detest the whole thing.

The glass for everyday wear and tear should be as inexpensive as possible. I like quite plain glass; tumblers cost about 6s. a dozen, and the glasses for wine are equally cheap; but for best glass Salviati ware is lovely, and really, if bought judiciously, is not so very expensive after all. Besides which, it allows one to have a different set of glasses for each person. I have a dozen different sets of three each, so that if one be broken and cannot be replaced exactly like its predecessor it is not a set of thirty-six that is done for, but only a set of three, which after all need not be spoiled quite, as having odd glasses one still more odd does not make the blot on the table that it otherwise would.

The finger-glasses should also be Salviati ware. Another suggestion for Angelina, should she be asked to write down a list of things she is most anxious to receive as presents—a good plan, by the way, for birthdays and Christmas, and one we always follow, as then one is sure of receiving something one requires, and not the endless rubbish that accumulates when well-meaning friends send gifts quâ gifts to rid themselves of an obligation; and who crack their brains pondering what you would like, and at last send you something you not only don’t want but think hideous, albeit it may have cost pounds. Water bottles should invariable be coloured. The Bohemian ware—a lovely green hue—is particularly useful for this purpose, and there is a charming shop in Piccadilly where all sorts of coloured glasses and bottles are to be procured—opposite Burlington House—Douglas and Co.—and nowhere else is this charming glass as cheap and pretty as it is there. I got a sweet blue bottle and glass for a bedroom for 9d., and another, quite a beauty, for 1s. 6d. At these prices one can well remain ‘mistress of oneself though China fall.’ The teacups and saucers can also be white or pale buff, but my favourite ware is Minton’s ivy patterned china. We used to have it at home, and I have it still, as it is one of those delightful things that one can always match. It is a little expensive, but then it is so pretty! The cups are all white, but the handles represent a bit of ivy, the leaves of which are in relief round the handle, and just give a pleasant, fresh look to the breakfast table. The plates have a wreath of ivy also in relief on them, and breakfast dishes, cruets, and plates that stand heat are made to match; so that all can be en suite, except the hot-water dishes. These are plain white, with a double dish holding hot water, that keeps bacon &c. hot, not for late comers—these lazy people should never be considered—but for those who may prefer fish first, or like to have a second helping. This tea ware is good enough for best as well as everyday wear; but be sure and avoid the species that is not raised and has a gilt edge, for no one who has not seen the two sets together could understand how different they can be. I do not like gilt on anything; it is always vulgar, always suggestive of nouveaux riches, and on china has a way of washing off that is most trying, unless it happens to be burnished, when it costs a young fortune, and one’s heart is broken every time a cup or plate receives a jar. A very good way in schoolrooms or nurseries, of which more anon, to secure the smallest amount of breakages is to give each child its own cup, plate, and saucer, each set to be of a different pattern. There are some lovely specimen cups, the set of which costs about 7s. 6d.—not a bad birthday present, especially if a silver teaspoon is added, with pale yellow, marguerite, and brown foliage depicted upon them. The same style of cup has also a beautiful design of blackberries, and I have also seen a pale pink daisy that was perhaps the most charming of the lot. If a child’s own plate &c. get broken one hears of it at once, and they are at once replaced. The governess has her own set too, and it is a good plan to have two or three extra sets for schoolroom visitors, for in well-regulated houses, where the governess makes herself pleasant, schoolroom tea is a delightful meal, and, if shared by intimate friends, makes a pleasant break for the governess, and gives the children an opportunity of seeing outsiders, and learning how to behave when company is present.

The best dessert service that I know of is to be bought at Hewett’s Baker Street Bazaar. It is Oriental-looking and most uncommon. It has a green ground, and a raised pattern of flowers, butterflies, &c., and looks so good, no one has any idea of its cheapness; for example, a man who set up to be a great judge of china once was dining with us, and taking up one of my dessert plates, he began to expatiate to the lady on his left hand on the beauty and rarity thereof. I let him go on for some time, and at last I told him the price—2s. each plate; and, though he was silent and appeared to believe me, I am certain he did nothing of the kind. The dishes are dearer, but not too dear, and are all low and nice shapes, and tiny plates can be obtained to match for preserved fruits or French bonbons, all of which look nice upon a dinner-table.

Mortlock has also a plain white dessert service, of which the edges of the plate are pierced, and the dishes are like baskets, which are charming, and not too expensive; but these are rather colourless on a table unless a great deal of scarlet is used too in the flowers, and I prefer a little colour introduced myself. Still, if we avoid those terrible swans on sham ponds, with holes in their backs, like the Elle women, to hold flowers, that used to be sold with the white service, we might do worse than have this one. Of course, real china, Crown Derby, and Worcester are all nice for this purpose; but we who cannot afford this style of property can be consoled with the idea that there are other things quite as pretty within our reach, although, maybe, they are neither as costly nor as precious, nor as liable to be broken.

While we are on the subject of glass and china I should like to say a few words more about the arrangement of the glass and china, and especially about the everyday dinner and breakfast table management, as in a small establishment it entirely rests upon the shoulders of the mistress whether the table presents a charming appearance or whether it does not. I will not suppose that Angelina burdens herself with experienced maidens, but I will think she has taken my advice and secured a couple of bright pleasant girls, of whom she can make friends, and who are not already spoiled for her use in some large establishment, and this being so, she will no doubt at first have to lay her table herself. This may be considered a hardship by our bride, but I am quite sure she will soon cease to regard it as one. Anyhow, I beg she will try my nice girls, and if they fail, why, she can but fall back on her ‘experienced’ ones after all, but she must not take them haphazard, but must select them as she does her personal friends, because then she will, knowing something about their family, their inherited tendencies and their dispositions, be able to know how to manage them. We do not ‘make friends’ with strangers unless we know something of their forbears, and this rule should apply to strange servants quite as much as it does to acquaintances who do not live with us, and only come in now and then, and are easily dropped should they prove uncongenial and disagreeable.

It is so easy to get your maiden into nice ways if she have no bad ones of her own, out of which you have to take her first, and, beginning at once to show her how you like things, you will soon be able to rely on her, and she will take a pride in copying you, and you will soon have your reward in service that is real, because it comes from the heart and not from the eye.

I am a great advocate for white china, because the washing of this cannot be scamped, and as far as possible all breakfast china should be white, with just a pattern of ivy or daisies, as described above; and the breakfast-table could be laid something as follows, putting the mistress at the head of the table if she wishes, and the master at the side, not at the foot—a most dreary arrangement, unless the breakfast table is filled by others besides the host and hostess, which in Angelina’s case is most unlikely. In front of Angelina is arranged the breakfast equipage, and I strongly advise her to have either cocoa or nicely made coffee, and to taboo that wretched tea that destroys so many digestions and unstrings so many nerves. Coffee is not more expensive, and a charming drink is made from equal parts of Mocha, East Indian, and Plantation coffee at 1s. 5½d. a pound and 1s. 4½d. It should be bought in the berry, and ground each morning; but as this is too much labour in our small household, I should suggest buying half a dozen pounds, two of each kind at a time, mixing them carefully and keeping them in a tin biscuit-box, filling up a smaller canister that holds a pound as required. I always do this, and the coffee is as fragrant and good the last day I use from it as on the first. This should be made for two people in one of Ash’s kaffee kanns, purchasable in Oxford Street, the best coffee machine I know of anywhere, and, being furnished with a spirit-lamp, it has always means of keeping the coffee hot, and the cheerful song of the little lamp is very pleasant when we come down on a cold wet morning. Of course the milk must be boiled, and sent in very hot in a china jug to match the china, and Barbadoes raw sugar is better with it than the ordinary lump. Very pretty basins, both for moist and lump sugar, can be bought at the Baker Street Bazaar, in Oriental china, for 1s. or 2s.; butter-dishes at 6d., in blue and white china, also marmalade and honey pots, for about 2s.; and as the blue harmonises with green, these pots can be used quite well with my favourite ivy service, of which I spoke before.

In the centre of the table there should always be an art pot with a plant in. Of course I know people will consider that expensive, and will sometimes even put another enemy of mine (a worse enemy even than that terrible hat-stand!) in this place of honour—I mean a cruet-stand. But let me tell you what this expensive item has cost me since this time last year—just five shillings. I had my pot for years, naturally, and this is not included in the outlay, but this some years ago cost 3s., so no one can object on the score of expense. In this pot I had planted a cocos palm, 3s. 6d., a most graceful plant, and the other 1s. 6d. went for three tiny ferns, all of which are flourishing mightily, and will soon have to be transplanted and make room for smaller ones again. Any lady fond of gardening could have planted these herself, and, naturally, cheaper plants are to be had; but the fine, graceful foliage of the cocos is so pretty, and the plant lasts so long, that I can heartily recommend it from long experience.

Of course, round the centre plant can be arranged three or four specimen glasses of flowers; but this I have never time to do except on special occasions, yet it adds much to the effect of a breakfast-table, and no young housekeeper who has not a settled occupation, such as keeps me employed from nine until one, should ever allow her table to be flowerless or ugly. In front of Edwin should be placed any hot food provided for breakfast, on nice china hot-water dishes; the bread should be placed on a wooden bread platter, that has neither a text nor a moral reflection carved on it—two things that always seem to me singularly out of place on a bread-stand; and the knife should be one of those very nice ivory-handled ones, made on purpose by Mappin and Webb, I believe, that cost 7s. 6d., but that last years.

At the corner of the table, between Edwin and Angelina, should be neatly arranged salt, pepper, and mustard. A tiny set of cruets for breakfast can be bought to match the ivy festooned ware, and is as pretty as can be. Very pretty white china salt-cellars &c. can be also purchased, with white china spoons to serve with; and Doulton makes charming sets also, which go with any service, and are very strong, but these have plated mounts; and I am not nearly as fond of them as I am of plain china, as these always look and are clean; and either plated ware or silver tarnish very soon, and make a great deal of work for our one pair of hands; which is one very strong reason why Angelina should put away all the pretty silver salt-cellars she is sure to receive when she is married; reserving these and other handsome possessions until she can afford a butler, or until she has trained her maidens well, and is justified in taking extra help, under the housemaid, when, if she likes, she can bring it out and use it daily.

As in every other department, in the housemaid’s department should rules and regulations be found. She should clean certain rooms on certain days; she should never leave her silver in greasy, or her knives in hot water; she should keep soda in her sink just as the cook does; and she should be instructed how to keep her glass clean and bright, a smeared glass or plate being at once returned to her for alteration should she bring it up to table.

Let the housemaid, moreover, have two or three coarse dust-sheets for covering the furniture when she is sweeping and dusting (and see she uses them), a large piece of ‘crash’ to place in front of the fireplace, when she is cleaning the grate, and a housemaid’s box and gloves. She must, furthermore, have three dusters, three glass-cloths, a good chamois leather, a set of brushes and plate-brushes, a decanter-drainer, a wooden bowl for washing up in, which must be kept free from grease of any kind, and she must wash out her dusters for herself. This makes them last much longer than they otherwise would, and if she has only a certain number she cannot waste and spoil them. Little things like these are what almost ruin a young housekeeper, because she does not know how to manage, and because she is too proud, as a rule, to ask any one why dusters vanish into thin air, and why the washing bill adds up so mysteriously.

Silver can be kept beautifully clean if washed in clean soda water daily, and then cleaned with a little whitening; which glass should be always rubbed bright with a leather.

These items appear insignificant, but I am sure they will be useful hints to many of my less experienced readers.

CHAPTER V.

FIRST SHOPPING.

In life, as in everything else, it is extremely difficult to draw the line anywhere. I want both my young people to care about their house, and know every detail of its management, but they must not become domestic dummies, and think of nothing save how to make a shilling do the work of two, and how to circumvent that terrible butcher, or that still more awful laundry-woman. Once started, the details that seem so ugly and wearisome on paper need never be gone into again, but it is necessary to have some plan and stick to it, else the jarring of the wheels of the domestic car will always be heard, and life will indeed be stale, dull, and unprofitable. People provide their own poetry, my young friends, and life is a very good thing if you do not expect too much from it, or if you will not refuse to accept other folks’ experience, for she has nothing new to give you, nothing to show you she has not shown us all before you. You are not the only young people who have started on a diet of roses and cream, and not the only ones either who have found this disagree with them. So buckle too manfully, and work your way onwards, being quite sure that every fresh home started and kept going on excellent sound principles of health and beauty does a work little known of, less understood about, perhaps, by those who inhabit it, but none the less beneficial to all those who come within its influence.

But I do not mean to preach a sermon, much as I should like to do so, but only to preface my remarks on the subject of our first shopping and how we should begin our scheme of decoration.

It is usual for the landlord to allow a certain sum for the decoration of a house; but rarely, if ever, does that sum allow of anything like really artistic papering and painting. Yet, I maintain, artistic surroundings are far more important than handsome furniture or even an elaborate wedding dress; and I think if we have common sense, and find a good journeyman carpenter and painter, who will work himself with his men under our directions, we shall manage very well indeed.

Could we afford it, of course, I would employ Morris, or Smee’s people, or Collinson and Lock, with their delicious arrangement of ‘fittings’; but we cannot, and our first business is to find some inexpensive man who will do as he is told. Then we can buy our papers and set to work. There is no saving like that we can make in this first work, if we can only put our hand on our man. And when this is done our next step is to describe the work we shall require to be done and to ask him to send in a contract, which is to be for everything, and is not to be departed from on any account whatever.

The great advantage to me in employing our own man is that we buy our own wall-papers &c. just wherever we like, and can, moreover, obtain a large discount on them if we pay cash, and insinuate that we expect the aforesaid discount as a matter of course. Then we can start on our shopping and to enjoy ourselves, though I question much if shopping be quite as charming an occupation as one expects it to be. Certainly, unless one starts with a clear conception of one’s needs, a long day’s shopping can result in nothing save great confusion of ideas, and a fearful consciousness that one has bought the very things one ought not to have purchased, and entirely forgotten the very articles of which we were most in want.

To avoid this disagreeable termination to our day, we must never start in a hurry, never be obliged to hasten over our purchases; and once our minds are made up on the subject of colours, we must not allow a ‘sweetly pretty’ pattern or beautiful hue to tempt us. Having made up our minds what we want, let us buy that, and nothing else.

Therefore, before going out really to purchase, we must settle definitely what are our requirements; and after really making the acquaintance of our house, the next thing to do is to find out what pretty things can be bought, at which shops, and at the most reasonable rate; and this is only to be done by a painstaking inspection of what the different establishments have to offer us, and by not disdaining to look in at shop windows, keeping both ears and eyes open, and using our senses and, if possible, other people’s experiences, as much as we can. This is a long and tedious process, but one worth going through, if we really want our house to be a home, and the experience we purchase with our furniture will go a long way towards helping us to solve the problem set before so many of us: how to live pleasantly on small means. One axiom we can undoubtedly lay to heart and remember, and that is that no one establishment should be resorted to for everything. Long experience teaches me that each shop has its specialties; it may supply everything from beds to food, from saucepans to grand pianos, still there is always some one thing that another shop has better and cheaper, and it is as well to find this out before we start away to buy our furniture, for I have often been made very angry by seeing exactly the same thing I gave 5s. for in one shop sold at 2s. 6d. in a less fashionable but equally accessible neighbourhood, while nothing varies as much as the price of wall-papers. I have known the self-same paper sold at 2s. 6d., 3s. 6d., and 4s. a piece by three different firms, all within a stone’s throw of each other; and, naturally, patterns alter from year to year, and we can scarcely ever match a paper unless we purchase one designed by some well-known designer, such as Morris, Jeffreys, Shufferey, Collinson and Lock, and Mr. E. Pither, of Mortimer Street, W., for whose cheap artistic papers I for one can never be too profoundly grateful.

But even more important than to find where to get the cheapest things is it to consult the house itself on what will suit it best in the way of furniture, and we should never allow ourselves to buy a single thing until we have taken our house into our confidence, and discovered all about its likes and dislikes. This sounds ridiculous, I know; but I am convinced a house is a sentient thing, and becomes part and parcel of those who live in it in a most mysterious way. Anyhow, to put it on the most prosaic grounds, what would be the use of buying a corner cupboard that would not fit into any corner, or in purchasing a sofa for which there was no place to be found once it was bought?

It is, therefore, far better to know our house thoroughly before we really begin to furnish; and I cannot too strongly advise all ladies to buy merely the bare necessaries of life before they go into their houses to live, reserving the rest of their money until they are quite sure what the house really wants most. But here let me whisper a little hint to our bride: a man before he is married is apt to be far more generously minded than he is once he has his prize safe; therefore, there should be a clear understanding that so much is to be spent really and positively; otherwise the bridegroom may think, as many men do, that, as things have ‘done’ for a while, they can ‘do’ for ever, and he may button up his pockets and refuse to buy anything more than he has already done. I have known more than one man do this; and even the best man that ever lived—by which every woman means her own husband, of course—never can understand either that things wear out or women require any money to spend.

When starting out on our shopping, we should put down first of all what we wish to buy, and then what we wish to spend, and we should never be persuaded to spend more on one thing than the outside price we have put down for it in our own schedule. If we do, something will have to go short, and that may be something very important both for health and comfort.

You know individually what you can afford, so make a note of that, and keep to it firmly, never allowing yourself to spend any more on that particular thing, thinking you can save elsewhere, for your list should be so exact that you cannot possibly spare anything you have set down in it.

And now another axiom to be remembered when shopping: never allow an upholsterer to direct your taste or to tell you what to buy, neither allow him to talk you out of anything on which you have settled after mature consideration.

The best of upholsterers has only an upholsterer’s notions, and naturally rather wishes to sell what he has, rather more than he desires to procure you what you want. He spots an ingénue the moment she enters his shop, and he cannot help remembering that here is the person likely to buy his venerable ‘shop-keepers,’ and he brings them forward until, bewildered by the quantity and ashamed not to buy after all the trouble she thinks she has given, Miss Innocence spends her money, and regrets her stupidity for the rest of her life.

All young people starting in life are so very certain that they are going to do better than any one else, that they invariably scoff at the idea of an upholsterer being able to direct them, but let them start prepared for this by my hint, and let them keep their eyes open; and if they do not see things that have not been brought to the light of day for ages at first, and before the man has realised he has a forewarned damsel and no ingénue to deal with, they need never believe a word I say for the future. But I have seen and watched this little comedy too often not to know I am really stating a fact.

Start on your shopping armed with this caution, your list, and a determination to be content with what you can afford, and a determination to get the prettiest things you can for your money, and you will do well; and above all remember that your lines have fallen on days when beauty and cheapness go hand in hand, and don’t hanker after Turkey carpets, when the price of one would go far indeed to furnish the whole of the room for which you would so like it, regardless of the fact that if you purchase such an expensive luxury you will have nothing whatever left with which to buy suitable chairs, tables, and plenishing to match a carpet which is only fit to go where expense is no object.

And please mark carefully the word ‘suitable,’ for there is no word so absolutely set on one side in our English language. Do not be guided by fashion, or by what some one else has done or means to do, or by anything at all, save the length of your purse and the house where you are to live; and recollect cheap things are easily replaced, while expensive ones wear one to death in taking care of them, and in marking sorrowfully how much sooner they fade or go into holes than we can afford to replace them.

If all this is remembered, laid to heart, and well thought over, the first shopping can be commenced at any time, and should consist of a careful selection of wall-papers and paints for at least the hall, dining-room, and staircase.