What vexed me, though, even more than Norah, was, that when I went to tell my husband, on his return from business that evening, about how the woman had insulted me, he wouldn’t hear a word of it, and said, like a wretch, he was sick and tired of my complaints against the maids, and he never set foot in the house but I had always got some long rigmarole tale about the servant’s bad conduct; adding that it was impossible they should be invariably in the wrong; and he firmly believed it was quite as much, if not more, my fault than theirs. And he even had the impudence to declare, (I thought it best to let him have his own way for once, and go on till he was tired,) that he had quite worry and bother enough of his own at office, and that when he came home, fagged and worn out, to his own fireside, he was determined at least to enjoy peace and quiet at his hearth; and then he asked what on earth I thought he had married me for, (as if I was going to tell him;) when the cruel wretch said—it was only to have a happy home! I told him that it was a nice insult to my own face, indeed, and that he seemed determined to find fault with everything that day, as nothing, however good it was, would please him; whereupon Mr. Sk—n—st—n went on, I’m sure, without knowing what he said, for he declared that I was a millstone round his neck, and the torment of his life; adding, that he begged me once for all to understand, that he would not be pestered every day with my bickerings with the servants; and he had made up his mind that if ever I opened my mouth to him again on the subject, that he would put on his hat that very moment and go and spend his evening at some tavern, where at least he could enjoy himself. Besides, he told me, he could see that Norah was worth her weight in gold to any person who knew how to humour her; for the house had never been so clean ever since we had been married; and the way in which the girl dressed a potato made her so invaluable in his eyes, that he wasn’t going, he could tell me, to have her driven out of the house by me. So that anybody might have seen, like myself, with half an eye, that my gentleman didn’t care so much about “his own fireside” after all, and instead of “his hearth,” indeed, being uppermost in his mind, that really and truly his stomach was at the bottom of it.
As for the matter of that Norah’s potatoes too, I’m sure I couldn’t see anything so wonderful about them. But, of course, Mr. Edward must go thinking them dressed so beautifully, just because they came up in their jackets; though, for my own part, I never could bear the look of the things in their skins; and what’s more, it wasn’t decent to have them coming to table in such a state. And the next day I told my lady as much, adding that she would be pleased to peel the potatoes before bringing them to the parlour for the future, as they were only fit for pigs to eat in the way she sent them up. Whereupon the vixen flew into such a rage, and abused and swore at me in such a way, calling me everything that was bad, and declaring that she would pay me out for it. And then, in the height of her passion, the spiteful fury, with the greatest coolness in the world, emptied all the dripping out of the frying-pan she was doing some soles in, right into the middle of the nice, brisk, clear fire, and created such a blaze, that I’m sure the flames must have been seen at the top of the house. Knowing that it was just upon our time for having the chimney swept, I felt certain that it must be on fire; and when I rushed out into the garden, there it was, sure enough, raging away, and throwing out volumes of sparks and smoke, just like the funnel of a steam-boat at night-time—with such a horrid smell of burning soot, that all the little boys came running from far and near up to our door, and shrieking out, Fire! Fire! like a pack of wild Indians.
When I went back into the kitchen the spiteful thing was impudent enough to tell me just to look there and see what I had made her do wid my boderations (as she called it), adding, “that it wasn’t herself though that would be afther desarting me in my distriss.” Feeling, however, that it was not the time to talk to her just then, I made her rake out every bit of fire there was in the grate, and after that I told her to run up to the top of the house with a couple of pails full of water, and to get out on the roof and pour it all down the chimney as quick as she could.
Up she went, while I waited below all of a twitter, expecting every minute that I should have a whole regiment of fire-engines come tearing up to the door, and putting us to goodness knows what expense for nothing; when all of a sudden I heard the water come splashing down right into the parlour overhead, and saw in an instant that that stupid thing of a Norah must have got blinded with the smoke up above, and mistaken the chimney, so that she had gone pouring it down all over my beautiful stove in the dining-room. In an instant I put my head up the kitchen chimney and hallooed out to her as loud as ever I could, “No—rah! you must pour it down here.” I declare the words were scarcely out of my mouth when down came such a torrent of water and soot, right in my face and all over my head and shoulders, and down my neck, that anybody to have seen me would have sworn some one had been breaking a large bottle of blacking over my head; while immediately afterwards, as if only to make matters worse, I heard a tremendous shout in the street, and on running to the window I at once knew that the parish engine was at hand: for, tearing along the pavement on the opposite side of the way was a whole regiment of, I should say, twenty or thirty little dirty boys pulling at a rope, and dragging along a nasty, ugly, red, trumpery little machine, which, I’m sure, if the house had been in flames, could have been of no more use to us than a squirt upon four wheels; while the mischievous young urchins kept hurraing away as if it was a good bit of fun, and little thinking that what was sport to them was (as with the toad in the fable) near upon death to me, and a good bit of money out of my pocket into the bargain.
When Norah Connor came down and saw what a pretty pickle both my cap and face were in, the only thing she did was to cry out, “Och, murther, I niver saw such a fright as ye look. What on airth have ye been gettin’ up to now?” and when I told her what had happened, she actually had the impudence to add, that “sure an’ I wasn’t fit to be trusted alone for two minutes together.” And then, seeing the parish engine at the door, she wanted to go—and I declare it was as much as ever I could do to prevent the fury—rushing out, and (to use her own words) “larruppin’ the Badle—just to tache the dirty blaggeard not to come robbin’ the masther agin in that way.”
However, I was determined not to have the door opened; so after the beadle had hammered away at it like a trunk-maker, for better than half an hour, he grew disgusted and went off with those impudent young monkeys of boys, and that stupid little watering-pot of a parish engine, (if I may be allowed to use so strong an expression.)
When I went into the parlour, it was in such a dreadful state that really it is impossible for me to give my readers any idea of the dirt and filth about it—unless, indeed, I were to say that it was as grubby as one of my father’s coal-barges. I saw that I had got a very pretty week’s work cut out for me, and how Norah would ever be able to get through with it all, I couldn’t say. As for my beautiful bright stove, it was as rusty, and as brown as a poor curate’s coat, and the hearth-rug was as black as the face of that impudent cymbal-player in the Life Guards.
All I know is, that we had to take everything out of the place; and, as I expected Edward to knock at the door every minute, I told Norah to light a fire and lay the cloth for dinner in the drawing-room. When I went up stairs to put myself to rights, it took me full half an hour, and nearly a whole cake of Windsor soap, before even I could bear the look of myself; and all the time I kept inquiring in my own mind, what I had better do in the situation that I was; for positively what between that Norah Connor’s impudence and spite, and my husband’s always taking her side, I really didn’t know how to act; for I felt myself to be (as Edward calls it) on the horns of a dilemma, and was so dreadfully tossed about, that I couldn’t undertake to say whether I was on my head or my heels. So after weighing it well, I determined upon breaking the dreadful news to my husband as gently as I could, directly he set foot in the house, and before he could catch sight of the mess in the dining-room. Accordingly, as soon as I heard his knock I went and opened the door myself, and while he was hanging his hat up in the hall, I said to him—as kindly as I could, I’m sure—“Oh, Edward! Norah has been going on so to-day, you can’t think.”
The more one does, however, the more one may, and I declare there was no pleasing Mr. Sk—n—st—n that day anyhow; for instead of trying to console me in my distress, he only banged his hat on his head again, and saying, that “It was always servants, servants, servants! from morning till night, and he’d be hung if he’d stand it any longer,” he bounced out of the house again, slamming the door after him like a cannon, and went sulking off to some filthy tavern in the neighbourhood, and never thought fit to return till five-and-twenty minutes past midnight—when he came home with his hair smelling of tobacco-smoke fit to knock one down, and the bow of his stock twisted right round to the side of his neck, and his intellects so muddled, that, do what I would, I couldn’t get him to carry the night candlestick straight, so that he would keep dropping the tallow-grease all over the carpets, as he went up stairs to bed.
In the morning, however, I was determined to let him see that I was not going to put up with his tantrums, indeed; so I never spoke to him all breakfast-time, and although he made, I should say, some dozen advances to me, yet I wasn’t to be carneyed over in that way I could tell him, and so merely gave him a plain “Yes” or “No,” as short and snappishly as I could; consequently, my gentleman hadn’t a very pleasant time of it, and went off to business quite early, thoroughly ashamed of himself, I could see. Nor did I choose to make it up with Mr. Sk—n—st—n until the day came for him to go over the housekeeping expenses, when, as dear Edward paid the money without a single question, I thought I might as well forgive him.