How I gave a Little Supper to some of my Friends.
The idea of giving a party of my own to my new friends, in return for their hospitality to me, was not by any means a new one. It had been simmering in my mind for some weeks past. Indeed, ever since I began to be invited out, the thought that I could not return the compliment had always been a drawback to my pleasure.
But there had always been two obstacles in the way of carrying out my wish. The first was lack of funds, the second was Mrs Nash. On eight shillings a week I had come to the conclusion it was out of the question to dream of giving a party to eight persons. By the most modest calculation I couldn’t possibly do the thing decently under a shilling a head. It was true I had my uncle’s half-sovereign in my pocket still. I might, I reflected, borrow that, and pay it back by weekly instalments. But somehow I didn’t like the idea quite, and never brought myself to the point of carrying it into effect. Now, however, with the sudden rise in my fortunes recorded in the last chapter, the financial obstacle to my hospitality was quite swept away. I had only to take the extra four shillings a week for two weeks—and the thing was done!
So the idea no longer simmered in my mind—it boiled; and I was determined for once in a way to astonish my friends.
But though one obstacle had vanished, the other remained. What would Mrs Nash say? For, much as I disliked it, I was forced to face the fact that my party, if I gave it, would have to come off in Beadle Square. I had half thought of borrowing Flanagan’s room for the occasion, but didn’t like to ask him; besides, if I did, it would have to be half his party and half mine, which wasn’t at all my idea. Then it occurred to me, should I take lodgings for a week and give it there? No, it would cost too much even for twelve shillings a week; and my uncle, if he heard of it, might stop my keep at Mrs Nash’s. Suppose I hired a room at an hotel for the evening, and asked the fellows there? It wasn’t a bad idea, and would probably only cost me half a week’s wages. But the worst of it is, if you ask fellows to dine with you at an hotel, they are sure to come expecting a grand turn out; and I doubted my talents to provide anything grand; besides, the hotel people would be sure to want to supply the things themselves, and ask for the money in advance. Or if I didn’t humour them they would to a certainty turn crusty and critical, and spoil my party for me.
No, the only thing was to make the best of Beadle Square, and to that end I determined to tackle Mrs Nash at once.
You may fancy the good woman’s surprise and scorn when I propounded to her my ambitious scheme.
“You give a party! Fiddlesticks! You’ll do nothing of the sort.”
“Please, Mrs Nash,” pleaded I, “it will be a very quiet one, I promise.”
“And where do you expect to have it, I wonder?” said she. “In the coal-cellar, I suppose? That’s the only spot in the house that ain’t occupied.”