Mary Jane Married: Tales of a Village Inn

by George R. Sims

Their mamma was just the same quiet, meek, long-suffering creature; but the young ladies and gentlemen were like wild animals, when the keeper’s gone away and has taken the horsewhip with him. All the pa that was in them came out, and they quarrelled and went on at each other awfully; and their poor ma was no more use than a baby to manage them. She used to lie in bed generally when Mr. Owen Wales was away till eleven o’clock in the morning, and the family used to come down at all hours, one after the other, and quarrel over their breakfast.

When Mr. Owen Wales was with us everybody used to be at breakfast at nine sharp, all looking as if butter wouldn’t melt; and woe betide any of them that was a minute late at a meal except himself.

But, oh, the meals when he wasn’t there! It was dreadful. It was the same with dinner as with breakfast. They’d come in one after the other, and quarrel all the time. And one day at dinner Miss Rhoda slapped Mr. Robert’s face, and Mr. Robert threw a glass of water over her, and they all jumped up, and I thought they’d have a free fight. I was so terrified that I dropped the vegetable-dish I was handing round out of my hand on the table, and, as it was cauliflower and melted-butter, and it all fell over into Mrs. Owen Wales’s lap and ruined her dress, I didn’t know which way to look or what to do. I thought perhaps they’d all turn on to me, and begin to tear my hair or something; but they went on calling each other beasts and cats and crocodiles, and other pet names without taking any notice, and their ma just wiped up the melted-butter out of her lap with her napkin, and said gently, “It doesn’t matter, Mrs. Beckett; it’ll come out.” And then she looked up at the young people and said, “Children, children, do, pray, be quiet.”

But the brothers went on at each other furiously; one brother taking one sister’s side and one the other; and the young ladies began scratching their brothers’ faces. And I don’t know how it would have ended, only Pryce walked into the room as calm as a judge, and they all sat down as if by magic.

I found out afterwards they were afraid she would tell their father; they knew their mother wouldn’t. Pryce was the master when the master was away—there was no mistake about that; and I’ve heard her go into Mrs. Owen Wales’s room, and order her to get up—not exactly order her, but you know what I mean—tell her it was late in a way that was as good as an order to get up.

The constant scenes when their pa was away quite wore me out, and I said to Harry that my nerves wouldn’t stand it. They always used to quarrel at the top of their voices, and the young ladies used to scream and rush out bathed in tears, and bang the doors and run upstairs into their bed-room; and I said we might as well keep a lunatic asylum at once—better, for we should have keepers and strait-jackets then, and padded rooms.

Harry said they were a queer family, certainly. But he supposed it was their being kept under so awfully by their pa made them burst out when he wasn’t there—and perhaps that was it; but whatever it was, it was very unpleasant in an hotel, which had always had quiet, steady-going people.

And it was not only quarrelling, but they were all over the place. The young gentlemen would come into the bar, and into the bar-parlour, and go on anyhow; and one day I found Mr. David sitting on the table in the kitchen, and making the servants roar with laughter at a figure which he had got, which was an old man on a donkey, that worked with strings; and Harry came in one day and told me that he had seen Mr. Robert walking with our nursemaid, while she was out with baby in the perambulator.

I said to Harry that the sooner their pa came back again the better it would be for us, for the place was being turned into a bear garden, and their ma was a poor, helpless creature to be left with such a lot.

But the worst that happened was one afternoon. Mr. Robert and Mr. David came down and said to Harry, “Mr. Beckett, we want you to do us a favour.” “What is it?” said Harry. “We’re going up to London, and we can’t get back till the last train, which gets into ——” (a station four miles from us) “at one in the morning. Will you let some one sit up for us, and not say anything about it to Pryce or pa?”