“My dear,” he said, “I think we had better keep Bridget.”
“I think ye had!” said Bridget. “For there ain’t no way t’ git rid of me. I’m here, ma’am, an’ I don’t bear no ill will. I forgive ye all, an’ I’m willin’ t’ let by-gones be by-gones, excipt one or two things, which ye will have t’ change.”
“The idea!” exclaimed Mrs. Fenelby. Bridget shrugged her shoulders.
“Have it yer own way, ma’am,” she said. “I am not one that would dictate t’ th’ lady of th’ house. I am no dictator, ma’am, an’ I don’t wish t’ be, but here I am an’ here I stay, an’ ’tis no fault of mine if some things riles me temper and makes me act as I shouldn’t. I’m one that likes things t’ be peaceful, ma’am, for no one knows how much row a girrl can make in th’ house better ’n than I does, especially when she’s hired by th’ month an’ can’t be fired. I can’t forget one Mrs. Grasset I worked for, ma’am, an’ her that miserable an’ cryin’ all th’ time, just because I had one of me bad timper spells. I should hate t’ have one of thim here, Mrs. Fenelby.”
“Well,” said Mr. Fenelby, controlling his righteous indignation as best he could, “what is it you want?”
“I want no more of thim tariff doin’s!” said Bridget firmly. “Thim tariff doin’s is more than mortal mind can stand, Mr. Fenelby, sir! Nawthin’ I ever had t’ do with in anny of me places riled me up like thim tariff doin’s, an’ we will have no more tariff in th’ house, if ye please, sir.”
“Well, of all the impert—” began Mr. Fenelby angrily, but Mrs. Fenelby put her hand on his arm and quieted him.
“Tom,” she said, “please be careful! You do not have to spend your days with Bridget, and I do! Don’t be rash. Send her into the kitchen until we talk it over.”
Bridget went, willingly. She gathered an armful of dishes, and went into her throne-room, bearing her head high. She felt that she was master and she was.
“Now, this Commonwealth—” began Mr. Fenelby, when the kitchen door had closed, but Billy stopped him.