And I had. I had it out with Tommy's wife!
It was all that paragraph.
The day before a servant had offered herself as a candidate to fill the place of the one I had dismissed. She referred me for her character to her late mistress. When she told me who her late mistress was I stared. It was Mrs. Tennant. It occurred to me, very forcibly, that one of Tommy's servants would hardly do for me. Things might get about, and tales be told. I gave her application scant consideration.
Now, in the middle of my rage, it struck me that here was an opportunity to get rid of some of it--on some one else's head. I might bait Mrs. Tennant. I could pretend to go and ask about the servant's character, and give the servant's mistress one, just by the way. I went and put my hat on, and made myself look as nice as I knew how, and off I trotted there and then.
I thought it more than possible that I should not be admitted--in her position some people would have declined to see strangers on business of any sort or kind. But I was. At the door they asked my name and what I wanted. When I said I had come about a servant's character, I was shown into a sitting-room. And presently in came Tommy's wife.
Directly I saw her I knew I had made a big mistake. I perceived at a glance that she was not anybody in particular--I mean that she was not a lady, or much to look at. She was just a woman. But, all the same, I knew that if I tried to close with her the odds were that I should get a fall.
She was just that kind!
She waited for me to begin. So I began--quite a thrill going through me when I realised that I was actually talking to Tommy's wife.
"I have called about a servant named Jane Parsons." She moved her head--the motion was scarcely equivalent to a bow. "She tells me that she was in your service. She has referred me to you for a character."
"I have nothing to say against the way in which Jane Parsons performed her duties."