There is one great advantage attendant upon invitations to tea with a
doctor. No objections can be raised on the score of health. It is
obvious that it must be fine enough to go out when the doctor asks
you, and that his tea-cakes may be eaten with perfect impunity.
Those tea-cakes were always good; to-night they were utterly
delicious; there was a perfect _abandon_ of currants, and the amount
of citron peel was enervating to behold. Then the housekeeper waited
in awful splendor, and yet the Doctor's authority over her seemed as
absolute as if he were an Eastern despot. Deordie must be excused for
believing in the charms of living alone. It certainly has its
advantages. The limited sphere of duty conduces to discipline in the
household, demand does not exceed supply in the article of waiting,
and there is not that general scrimmage of conflicting interests which
besets a large family in the most favored circumstances. The
housekeeper waits in black silk and looks as if she had no meaner
occupation than to sit in a rocking chair, and dream of damson cheese.