Everything in them was as well-kept and as well-polished as good servants, thoroughly drilled, could make it.

Not a stain or a speck anywhere.

A miracle of neatness.

Indeed, when I carelessly drew the Norwegian dagger from its scabbard, as we waited for lunch, and found that it stuck in the sheath, I almost started to discover that rust could intrude into that orderly household.
I recollected then how Hilda Wade had pointed out to me during those six months at St.Nathaniel's that the women whose husbands assaulted them were almost always "notable housewives," as they say in America--good souls who prided themselves not a little on their skill in management.
They were capable, practical mothers of families, with a boundless belief in themselves, a sincere desire to do their duty, as far as they understood it, and a habit of impressing their virtues upon others which was quite beyond all human endurance.

Placidity was their note; provoking placidity.