“Oh,” replied I, thinking it judicious to laugh at this facetious suggestion, “I’d like the parlour for that evening, if you could manage it, Mrs Nash.”
“What! are you going to ask all the fellows here to your party, then?”
“Oh, no. Couldn’t you let them know the parlour’s engaged for that evening?—just for once? You know I’d pay you something—”
“I dare say you would!—you’d pay anything, you would! And what are you going to give them all to eat, eh?”
“Oh, I’ll see to that,” said I.
This was an unfortunate reply of mine. Mrs Nash, as it happened, was inclined to enter into my scheme, and, had I only known it, would have offered to take some trouble to help me. But this answer of mine offended her sorely.
“Oh, very well,” said she, loftily; “you don’t want me, I can see, and I’m just as glad.”
In vain I protested, and implored her not to be vexed. I hadn’t meant it at all. I couldn’t possibly do without her. I was a beast to say what I had, and so on. The most I could get out of her was a vague promise that I might have the room on the evening in question. As for the entertainment, she washed her hands of the whole affair.
I was inclined to give it up. Not that I had ever imagined she would help me; but to have her downright unfriendly at such a time would, I knew, ruin the thing totally.
For some days she would listen to nothing at all on the subject.