Chapter XIII (2)

As I wasn’t going to stop there wasting my argumentative powers upon a man who was deaf to reason, I put an end to his sneers by ringing the bell for that Betsy, and told her to get some boiling water ready as soon as she could, for I wanted to have my bed warmed, and to be sure and stand the warming-pan near the fire for a few minutes before putting the water in it, so that I might have it as hot as I could. We always used one of the new patent hot-water warming-pans, because with them one hasn’t that nasty coal-gassy smell that the old-fashioned things invariably leave behind them; and there’s no chance--even if the pan’s left to stand a moment in the bed--of having one’s best linen sheets scorched, and with large brown marks upon them as if they were stuck over with pancakes.

I thought my lady was taking her time nicely to boil a trumpery kettle full of water. So, even ill as I was, I couldn’t help just slipping quietly down stairs, and popping in upon her when she least expected me. Hoity-toity! was there ever such a sight!--I thought I should have dropped down when I saw it. My beautiful kitchen for all the world like a cheap Jack’s cart at a fair--saucepans here, kettles there, crockery everywhere, while my beauty was sitting with her toes cocked up on the fender, and that trumpery “GIPSY GIRL OF ROSEMARY DELL” in her hand, as I live, and crying water-spouts over that stupid, disgusting “OUTCAST” of an “ELA.” There was our cat, too, right in the frying-pan, and the house flannel and the scrubbing-brush in the fish-kettle, and that precious “EMILY FITZORMOND, _or the Deserted One_,” lying on the ground, with the “RANGER OF THE TOMB” by her side, and “FATHERLESS FANNY, or the _Mysterious_ Orphan,” as the thing was called, all over grease, and without even so much as a wrapper to its back, pitched about anywhere. There were all the dirty plates and dishes besides, just as they had come down from dinner more than an hour ago, side by side with the breakfast things, which she had got to wash up before we could have even a mouthful of tea; and although it was nearly dark, I declare she hadn’t so much as cleaned a single candlestick all the day through, for they were standing on the hob with all the hot tallow running out of them, and dripping into one of my best new block-tin saucepans. As I’m a Christian, drat the woman, if she hadn’t stuck my beautiful bright copper warming-pan, too, (that hadn’t been used more than twice, and which I picked up, quite a bargain, at a broker’s only a year ago,) right on the top of the oven, and so close to the fire, that, upon my word, when I went to take hold of it, it was nearly red hot, while of course her head was so full of her romantic rubbish, that she hadn’t so much as thought about the hot water; for,

instead of putting the kettle on, she hadn’t even taken the nasty, greasy gridiron on which she had done our pork chops off the fire.

This, I must confess, was more than common flesh and blood like mine could bear; so I flew at my duchess, and snatching out of her hand her grand works,--“which should be in every person’s library!” indeed,--I bundled them all into what, to my mind, was a much fitter place for them--the fire; and what’s more, I put the kettle right on top of them, and by the time I had done reading the minx such a lecture as she wont forget in a hurry, thank goodness I had the kettle boiling away quite nicely.

All this exertion--ill as I was--took such an effect on my delicate nerves, that I determined upon going to bed directly. So I told her to fill the warming-pan, and take it up stairs as quick as she could, while I went to make myself a glass of nice hot rum-and-water, with a bit of butter and plenty of sugar in it, and which, with a bit of tallow (despite all Mr. Edward’s low sneers) just the size of a pea rubbed over the bridge of my nose, is--as my lady readers will agree with me--as good a thing as one can fly to when one’s got a nasty cold coming on one.

When I got up stairs, there was my lady in her sulks, of course, warming the bed as if she had fallen asleep over it. So as I wasn’t going to put up with any of her tantrums, I went behind her, and telling her that I would show her how to warm the bed, I seized hold of her arm and pushed it backwards and forwards so fast that I could hear all the water wabble again in it--little dreaming at the time that the solder of the nasty twopenny halfpenny bit of goods had got melted, all through Miss Betsy’s standing it so long and so close to the fire as she had, and that I was actually shaking the water out of it all over my bed, as fast as if the thing had been a watering-pot. The worst of it was too, that the beastly new-fangled warming-pan must have held a gallon if it did a spoonful; and seeing that Miss Betsy wanted to get down stairs again, to some more of her trumpery novels, as I thought, I wouldn’t let her go, but made her stand shaking the leaky thing up and down the sheets--particularly on my side too--until I had tied my flannel petticoat nicely over my night-cap, and finished all my rum-and-water, and had put all my things by, just out of aggravation, to keep her up there as long as I could, and was quite ready to get into bed.

When Miss Betsy had gone, and I had let down the night-bolt--I declare I had been dawdling about so long in the cold, that I was quite frightened lest I should have taken another chill--putting out the candle, I jumped into bed as quick as ever I could. And then, oh lud-a’-mercy me! what a pretty pickle it was in, to be sure. If the linen sheets weren’t positively just like sheets of water, and the whole bed as wet as the bed of the River Thames. I tumbled out again like lightning, as any one may easily imagine, when, drat it! if all my night clothes weren’t as wet and cold as a dog’s nose, and the worst of it was, they would keep clinging to me as if they were so much wet blotting-paper. I rushed to the bell, and pulled, and pulled, and pulled away, until Mr. Sk--n--st--n must have thought either that I had set the house on fire, or overlaid my dear little lamb, or found a brute of a man under the bed; for up he came, gasping away, crying out, “What on earth is the matter, Caroline?” and five minutes afterwards, up Miss Betsy sauntered, as leisurely as if nothing at all had happened.

“The matter,” I cried, pulling off the bed-clothes, and throwing aside the sheet, that was so wet you might have wrung it--“Look here,” I said, holding up the soaking blanket; and which, when I let it go, I declare, fell with a flop upon the ground, for all the world as if it had been a batter-pudding--“And look here, too,” I cried, showing him the feather-bed tick, which really looked as dark as a slate with the wet--“Just come and feel it yourself, and say if it isn’t like a sponge, and then ask yourself how you’ll like to sleep upon it all night, for sleep upon it you must, as there isn’t another in the house. What’s more, too, these are the only sheets that you can have to lie upon to-night, for, thanks to that Miss Betsy there, she must not only think fit to give away all the clean ones I had home from the wash this very day, to the first person that chose to come and ask for them, but to make the thing complete, she must needs go burning a hole in the hot water warming-pan, and drenching my only remaining pair; and just because she knew I had caught a severe cold, and wanted a comfortable warm bed to set me right again. Oh, you wicked, abominable, novel-reading hussy you! you’ll be the death of me before you’ve done with me, you will! How you can have the impudence to stand there and look me in the face, and not expect the floor to open and swallow you up for your shameful goings on--and how _you_, too, Mr. Edward,” I continued, turning to Mr. Sk--n--st--n, “how you can stand there, as quiet as a common cab-horse, and see your poor wife worried into her grave in this way by that wicked woman, and not send her about her business this very moment, is beyond my limited powers to comprehend.”

But of course the only answer my gentleman could make me was to tell Miss Betsy to go down stairs; and then, if he didn’t turn round as cool as a cucumber, and tell me to my own face, that it was all my fault (my fault!--mark, if you please, gentle reader.) But it was just what I had expected--indeed, I had said as much to myself--of course, it was all _my_ fault! _I_ had done it all, _I_ had--and that minx of a _Betsy_ had had nothing to do with it--of course _I_ had burnt the hole in the warming-pan, and filled it with water, to be sure; and more than that, _I_ had warmed the bed, I suppose--though, as I very cleverly told my lord duke, if I _had_, _I_ had done it in my sleep, and there was an end of it. Then I gave it Mr. Edward so soundly, and told him what I thought of him so plainly, and made him so heartily ashamed of himself, that, upon my word, at last he marched up to the drawers, and taking his razors and a clean nightgown and night-cap, with all the impudence in the world, told me to my face he was going to sleep out. So I told him very quietly that he might do just as he pleased about that, but if he did, to rest assured, that as sure as his and my name were Sk--n--st--n, I’d never pass another night under his roof. But my gentleman only turned on his heel and walked himself off as grandly down stairs as if he were doing some mighty fine action, and thinking, of course, that I should run after him and call him back. But, oh dear, no!--I wasn’t going to make such a silly of myself as that--no!--not if he were the only man in the world.

But, thank goodness, I’ve got a spirit of my own, and however much I might have felt the absence of the monster, still I was determined not to show it. So directly I heard the street-door slam, I marched up stairs, and ringing the bell for Betsy, made her carry down her own mattress and blankets for me to sleep on, telling her that she might lie upon the bare bedstead, if she pleased, and that if, in the morning, she got up and found herself striped all over with the marks of the bits of wood at the bottom of it, like a herring just taken off a gridiron, why she needn’t blame me, as she would have only herself to thank for it.

Not so much as a wink of sleep could I get, but did nothing but cry and fidget all that miserable night through. Not that I cared about Mr. Edward leaving me all alone in my distress at a time when he didn’t know whether I had a bed to lie down upon or not, or whether my severe cold might not take a serious turn, and end in a rheumatic fever, or goodness knows what,--it wasn’t this I cared about, I say; but it was the nasty, callous way in which he did it--not even so much as saying where a person might find him, supposing anything happened to one, and which I felt I never should be able to forget to my dying day. But I wasn’t going to submit to be treated worse than a parish orphan, so directly I heard the chimney-sweeps in the street, I tumbled out of bed, and merely taking the child and my hair-brush and such things as I couldn’t do without for a day or two, I went down stairs, and having cut off a slice of bread-and-butter, just to keep the wind out of my stomach, I wrote my lord a short letter, telling him that I had left his house

FOR EVER!!!

and signing it--“Your heart-broken and affectionate--though she-can-never-consent-to-live-with-you-again--wife CAROLINE,” and then putting the key of the tea-caddy inside the note, I left it with Betsy, telling her to give it to her master when he came home, and to be sure and have the breakfast all ready and comfortable for him by nine o’clock at the latest--and that I was going to Mrs. B--ff--n’s, but on no account to tell Mr. Sk--n--st--n where I had gone, as I wouldn’t have him know it for the world. Then off I went, with Kate in my arms and a tear in my eye, and made the best of my way round to dear mother’s, as I felt convinced, even if Betsy didn’t tell my husband, _that_ would be the first place to which he would fly to seek me, and that I should have him come rushing round to me and begging and praying of me to return to his disconsolate home, before a couple of hours were over my head.

When I reached my own dear mother’s, and told what had happened, oh, it would have done any married lady’s heart good to have seen the affectionate old thing kiss me and fondle me, vowing I had got her own fine spirit, and that she was so delighted to find I was no worm, and that the noble way in which I had acted would teach Mr. Sk--n--st--n as much. When I asked her whether she was perfectly sure that Edward would come after me, she tried to make my mind easy by telling me that it was as sure as coals were coals--though this far from quelled my fears; for from the quality of the ton father had last sent us, I had my doubts upon that subject. But mother went on, saying, “The men are always sure to come after one the first time, my angel--though a second, I must confess, grows a little dangerous; and with a person of Mr. Sk--n--st--n’s disposition, however much I might recommend you once to declare you had separated yourself from him for ever, still I should not, as a mother, like to advise you to try it twice, unless, indeed, you could get him beforehand to agree to allow you a very handsome separate maintenance, as the wretch ought to do, my dove. Now, I recollect about three years after you were born, sweetest, I had a serious quarrel with Mr. B--ff--n, your father, about the parson’s nose, I think, of as fine and fat a duck as ever came to table--and which tit-bit we were both extremely partial to. And the long and short of it was, he said such things to me that I felt I ought not to stop another minute in the house of such a man. So, accordingly, since all my relations lived in Kent, I engaged a small bed out by the night, and left your wretch of a father, my love--for ever!! But, as I expected, he soon found out where I had gone to, and, rushing round, he threw himself at my feet, and began tearing his poor dear bald head so frightfully, that I was obliged to consent to return to his home, and see whether the contrition he professed was really sincere or not by the present he made me; but, when I tell you, my life, that the next day he only brought me home a trumpery plated ale tankard, which, of course, was more for himself than it was for me, you will be able to judge of the deceitfulness of man, and, if you take my advice, you will stipulate to have from Mr. Sk--n--st--n whatever you may want before you are weak enough to consent to make him happy by returning home. Remember, my angel, such chances seldom occur more than once in a poor woman’s lifetime; so, if you will listen to me, you will not throw away this golden opportunity, but sit down quietly now, and just turn over in your mind whether you think you could bring yourself ever to live under the same roof with Mr. Sk--n--st--n again, even if he were to promise to insure his life in your favour, so as to make you comfortable after his death, my angel, or else to double the money he allows you for the housekeeping every week, or any other little trifling sign of repentance which you think he ought to show, my poppet. Only mark my words--‘If you don’t strike the iron whilst it’s hot, you’ll live to repent it, as your too trusting mother has over and over again done, my lamb!’”

Upon my word, if dear mother wasn’t as good as a witch, for, in about a couple of hours, round came Mr. Sk--n--st--n all of a fluster. Then, of course, he was all sorrow and affection, and nothing was _too_ good for me, and, if I would only _consent_ to come back again, he’d be the happiest of men. Oh! I was so glad to think that poor _I_ had humbled my grand lord, no one can tell; and, when I saw that tear twinkling in the corner of his eye, I really couldn’t for the life of me help smiling inwardly, with honest pride, to think of the triumph I had gained, and that I had brought my headstrong gentleman to his proper senses, and made him conscious of my worth. Though, of course, he must go begging and praying of me, after a bit, that I would keep all my troubles about my servants to myself for the future, and not be always tormenting him with them when he came home of an evening, tired, from business, saying that then he was sure we should go on so comfortably together. So I told him that it was foolish of him to expect that we could ever get a good servant who would do all the work of that great big house, and clean the boots and knives, and be dressed in the afternoon to answer the door as well; and, as I saw that he was just in the humour not to refuse me anything, and I had made up my mind long ago to have a page in the house, just like the boy at the L--ckl--y’s, directly I could wheedle my husband into it, I said that, unless some alteration was made in our establishment, I was sure I should be in my grave before long. And when he said, “What alteration do you propose, my dear?--for goodness’ sake, have anything you like, if it will only put an end to these disturbances between us,”--I pretty soon clenched the business, and got him to promise I might get a nice genteel youth, and put him in a handsome livery, who could follow us to church with the prayer-books, (which I do think looks so respectable;) or, if ever I went out for a walk, could come trotting after me, and enable me to go past the barracks in Albany-street without the fear of being insulted by those soldier fellows!

So we went home so pleasantly together, the reader don’t know; and, bless my Edward’s kind heart, when I reminded him of the dresses, and sheets, and things I had lost, if he didn’t give me a very handsome cheque indeed, to buy some new ones with, though I said at the time, when I took it, that it was more than I wanted. But, to do my husband justice, though he is very hasty, I’m sure no one can strive more than he does to make amends for it afterwards.

I’ll warrant he doesn’t go sleeping out again in a hurry!