'Well! - if it had been me now, I should have had no tea at all -
if it had been Fergus, even, he would have to put up with such as
there was, and been told to be thankful, for it was far too good
for him; but you - we can't do too much for you. It's always so -
if there's anything particularly nice at table, mamma winks and
nods at me to abstain from it, and if I don't attend to that, she
whispers, "Don't eat so much of that, Rose; Gilbert will like it
for his supper." - I'm nothing at all. In the parlour, it's "Come,
Rose, put away your things, and let's have the room nice and tidy
against they come in; and keep up a good fire; Gilbert likes a
cheerful fire." In the kitchen - "Make that pie a large one, Rose;
I daresay the boys'll be hungry; and don't put so much pepper in,
they'll not like it, I'm sure" - or, "Rose, don't put so many
spices in the pudding, Gilbert likes it plain," - or, "Mind you put
plenty of currants in the cake, Fergus liked plenty." If I say,
"Well, mamma, I don't," I'm told I ought not to think of myself.
"You know, Rose, in all household matters, we have only two things
to consider, first, what's proper to be done; and, secondly, what's
most agreeable to the gentlemen of the house - anything will do for
the ladies."'

'And very good doctrine too,' said my mother. 'Gilbert thinks so,
I'm sure.'

'Very convenient doctrine, for us, at all events,' said I; 'but if
you would really study my pleasure, mother, you must consider your
own comfort and convenience a little more than you do - as for
Rose, I have no doubt she'll take care of herself; and whenever she
does make a sacrifice or perform a remarkable act of devotedness,