It was too late. People hearing the row had got up, and I could see white figures peeping through the half-open doors, and one old lady rushed out in her nightgown shrieking, “What is it? The house is on fire—I know it is. Fire! fire! fire!—--”
“Hush, hush!” I cried, “don’t, don’t!”—and, in my horror, I put my hands over her mouth to stop her. “It’s nothing; it’s only two gentlemen drunk.” The old lady caught sight of the two young Mr. Owen Waleses sitting on the landing, and remembering how she was dressed, and that she hadn’t got her wig on, bolted into her room and banged the door to after her, and I went to the other doors and told the people it was nothing, that they weren’t to be frightened; it was only two of our gentlemen had been overcome by something which had disagreed with them.
Oh, it was dreadful! I didn’t know where the scandal would end, or what would be the consequences of it. How we got those two young fellows to bed—how I quieted Harry down, and left that wretched woman Pryce triumphant on the staircase, with a wicked, fiendish glare in her eye—I only remember in a confused sort of way; but I know, when it was all over and I got to bed, I had to have a good cry to prevent myself having hysterics. And Harry, as soon as he’d got me round a bit, worked himself up into a temper again, and, instead of going to sleep, kept on turning from side to side in his indignation, and saying, if it hadn’t been for me, he’d “have wrung that old cat’s neck for her.”
* * * * *
The next morning the two young gentlemen came into our private room after breakfast, and apologized, like gentlemen. They said they were very sorry for what had occurred, and they hoped we shouldn’t think too badly of them. I said I should think no more of it, though, of course, it had made a terrible scandal in the house, and would probably injure our business; but I should not forget the impertinence of the woman Pryce, who was only a servant, and had no business to dare to interfere or to speak to me in such a way.
They said that I was quite right; but they daren’t say anything to Pryce, as their only chance of getting her not to tell their father was by being very humble to her and smoothing her down.
I don’t know how they tried to smooth her down; but they didn’t do it, for their pa came down the next day, and that Pryce told him everything, and a nice row there was. The way that little man went on at those two great six-foot fellows was awful. They shook like aspen-leaves before him—I expected to see him set to and thrash them every minute, though he would have had to stand on a chair to box their ears. Of course, they deserved all they got; the cruel part was that he bullied his wife as well, and told her it was all her fault, and she was ruining her children, and she wasn’t fit to be a mother, and I don’t know what. Really one would have thought she was a little girl herself. I wondered if he was going to stand her in the corner, or send her to bed. The poor woman trembled and sobbed before the little bantam, till I quite lost patience with her. Why, if she had given him a push, she could have sent him over into the fender, for he stood on the hearthrug, and foamed and swore till he was nearly black in the face.
The door was wide open—the sitting-room door—and we heard all he said, and he rang the bell, and sent for me and Harry, and demanded to know “the rights of it.”
It was very awkward; but I got out of it. I said, “If you’ve anything to say, sir, you can say it to my husband;” and with that I vanished out of the room. He didn’t frighten Harry, though he tried to; but the end of it was, he said he shouldn’t stay in the house any longer, and Harry said he was glad to hear it, as it saved him the pain of having to present him with the bill, and ask him to take his custom and his family somewhere else.
When Harry said that, he told me, the little man swelled out to such a size Harry thought he was going to burst; but he only swore, and ordered Harry to leave the room instantly, which, to avoid a disturbance, he did.