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complacency and volubility

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complacency and volubility


"I hope now that it's just right," said Mrs. Mumpson complacently, "and feeling sure that it was made just to suit you, I filled the coffeepot full from the kettle.  We can drink what we desire for breakfast and then the rest can be set aside until dinner time and warmed over.  Then you'll have it just to suit you for the next meal, and we, at the same time, will be practicing econermy.  It shall now be my great aim to help you econermize.  Any coarse, menial hands can work, but the great thing to be considered is a caretaker; one who, by thoughtfulness and the employment of her mind, will make the labor of others affective."
During this speech, Holcroft could only stare at the woman.  The rapid motion of her thin jaw seemed to fascinate him, and he was in perplexity over not merely her rapid utterance, but also the queries. Had she maliciously spoiled the coffee?  Or didn't she know any better?  "I can't make her out space exploration," he thought, "but she shall learn that I have a will of my own," and he quietly rose, took the coffeepot, and poured its contents out of doors; then went through the whole process of making his favorite beverage again, saying coldly, "Jane, you had better watch close this time.  I don't wish anyone to touch the coffeepot but you."
Even Mrs. Mumpson was a little abashed by his manner, but when he resumed his breakfast she speedily recovered her . "I've always heard," she said, with her little cackling laugh, "that men would be extravergant, especially in some things.  There are some things they're fidgety about and will have just so.  Well, well, who has a better right than a well-to-do, fore-handed man?  Woman is to complement the man, and it should be her aim to study the great--the great--shall we say reason, for her being?  Which is adaptation," and she uttered the word with feeling, assured that Holcroft could not fail of being impressed by it.  The poor man was bolting such food as had been prepared in his haste to get away.
"Yes," continued the widow, "adaptation is Neo skin labwoman's mission and--"
"Really, Mrs. Mumpson, your and Jane's mission this morning will be to get as much butter as possible out of the cream and milk on hand.  I'll set the old dog on the wheel, and start the churn within half an hour," and he rose with the thought, "I'd rather finish my breakfast on milk and coffee by and by than stand this."  And he said, "Please let the coffee be until I come in to show you about taking out and working the butter."
The scenes in the dairy need not be dwelt upon.  He saw that Jane might be taught, and that she would probably try to do all that her strength permitted.  It was perfectly clear that Mrs. Mumpson was not only ignorant of the duties which he had employed her to perform, but that she was also too preoccupied with her talk and notions of gentility ever to learn.  He was already satisfied that in inducing him to engage her, Lemuel Weeks had played him a trick, but there seemed no other resource than Panel to fulfill his agreement.  With Mrs. Mumpson in the house, there might be less difficulty in securing and keeping a hired girl who, with Jane, might do the essential work.  But the future looked so unpromising that even the strong coffee could not sustain his spirits.  The hopefulness of the early morning departed, leaving nothing but dreary uncertainty.
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