‘No doubt,’ assented Mr Pudster. ‘The firm is willing to wait for your reply. In matters of business we are never in a hurry.—When may we look for your answer?’
‘Well, you shall have a note by to-morrow morning’s post,’ replied Mrs Bunter. ‘I may say,’ she added, ‘that I have heard a great deal of your firm, Mr Pudster; and that I am conscious that it does me great honour by thus offering me a partnership in it.’
‘Indeed, madam, the honour is ours!’ said Mr Pudster, bowing as he retired.
No sooner had he departed than the widow burst into a long and merry fit of laughter. Her first impulse was to write and refuse the ridiculous offer; but as the day wore on, she thought better of the affair; and in the evening, after dinner, she sat down quite seriously, and wrote a letter as follows:
Matador Villa, Chelsea,
August 5, 1865.
To Messrs Pudster and Maggleby,
14 Mincing Lane, City.
Gentlemen—I have decided to accept the very flattering offer which was laid before me to-day on your behalf by your Mr Pudster. If he will call, I shall have much pleasure in arranging preliminaries with him.—I remain, gentlemen, very faithfully yours,
Maria Bunter.
‘I must fall in with their humour, I suppose,’ she reflected. ‘And really, Mr Pudster is a very nice man, and almost handsome; and I’m sure that I shall do no harm by marrying him. Besides, it is quite true that they must want some one to look after them. If they go on living by themselves, they will grow crusty and bearish.’ And Mrs Bunter sent her maid out to post the letter.
Three weeks later, the widow became Mrs Pudster; Mr Maggleby, of course, officiating as best-man at the wedding, and being the first to salute the bride in the vestry after the ceremony. Thenceforward, for a whole year, the three members of the firm lived together in complete harmony; and the pleasant history of their existence was only interrupted by Mr Pudster’s enforced departure for Demerara in September 1866. Mr Maggleby, it is true, offered to go instead of him; but Mr Pudster would not hear of it; and Mr Maggleby was obliged to confess that business was business, and that it was certainly Mr Pudster’s turn to brave the mosquitoes. And so, after confiding his wife to the care of his friend, Mr Pudster departed. During his absence, all went well; and in March 1867 he returned to England. But this time the heat had been too much for poor Mr Pudster. His wife noticed that he was looking unwell. Maggleby, with sorrow, perceived the same. Pudster laughed. Nevertheless, he soon took to his bed; and after a long and painful illness, died.