She was fully dressed, and had evidently had an idea what was going to happen, and the cat—that ever I should call her so!—had sat up and listened for the young gentlemen to come in and go to bed.
When they looked up, too, and saw her it seemed to sober them for a minute. “It’s all right, Pryce,” said Mr. Robert. “We’ve been to the misshurry meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Beckett, and losh lash train.”
If a glance could have withered them that old woman’s would have done it. “Very good,” she said; “your father shall be informed of this.” Then, looking at me, she said, “As to you, ma’am, you ought to be ashamed of yourself—encouraging young men in vice and drunkenness.”
“Oh!” I said, almost with a shriek; “oh, you wicked creature! How dare you say such a thing?”
Harry had heard what she said, too. He left go of the two young men, and they both went down bang on the landing; and he jumped up the stairs, two at a time, till he reached Mrs. Pryce, and then, his eyes glaring (he looked splendid like that), he almost shouted, “Apologize to my wife for your insolence, this minute!”
“I shall not,” she said, never flinching an inch. “It’s disgraceful, and you ought to lose your licence.”
“Do you suppose they got drunk with us?” yelled Harry.
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” said that female; “but they are drunk, and you and your wife are up with them at two o’clock in the morning. I shall inform my master at once. This is not a fit house for respectable people.”
“Isn’t it?” shouted Harry; “it’s a d—— sight too respectable for you and your lot! You and your master can go to the——”
“Harry,” I said, running up, and catching hold of him; “Harry, be calm; think of the other customers.”