That night, when the master came home, missus told him that she’d changed her mind, and she wouldn’t leave the house, and the agreement wasn’t to be signed.
“Oh, but, my dear,” said master, “everything is in the lawyer’s hands, and the place is as good as let. We can’t back out of it now.”
“You’ll have to back out of it,” said missus, “for I’m not going to let that woman have my house. She’s had the impudence to find fault with my taste, and to tell me what she’s going to do, and so she sha’n’t come in at all—so there now!”
And all master could say was no good. Missus declared she’d never go into another house alive, and, for the sake of peace and quietness, master had to refuse to sign the agreement at the last moment.
There was an awful row about it, I heard, and the other gentleman was very indignant, but it was no use. It was more than master dared do to sign the agreement, knowing what his wife was, and he couldn’t be made to, legally, so the other people had to give way after lawyer’s letters had passed.
And one day, when missus met the other lady in an omnibus going to Regent Street, she said to her, “My curtains are still blue, madam;” and the other lady called to the conductor to stop the omnibus, and she paid her fare, and got out.
Knowing how missus was, you may be sure the master was in a fright about the new housekeeper interfering. There would have been a nice scene, and, with the company beginning to arrive, he didn’t want that.
So he said to the waiter who was had in—the man we always had for dinner-parties and balls—“Waters,” he said, “for Heaven’s sake, keep that old woman downstairs. Do anything you like, only keep her downstairs.”
“All right; sir,” said Waters. And he got the old lady to sit down in the breakfast-room, and keep guard over the provisions and the wine that were put out for the musicians’ supper, and made out it was very important she should be there, as she was to see that nobody came in and helped themselves.
She saw that nobody did, but she helped herself, and by the time the ball was in full swing the poor old lady had drunk so much wine, she was quite silly, and presently began to get lively, and, feeling lonely, I suppose, she went upstairs to stand in the hall and see the fun, though she had to lean up against the wall a good deal, the wine having got in her head.