“Yes, my dear, it’s rather lonely being here in this big room all by oneself so long; so I asked Martha Biggs to come over to me. I suppose there’s no harm in that.”
“Oh, if I’m in the way,” began Miss Biggs, “or if Mr. Furnival is going to stay at home for long—”
“You are not in the way, and I am not going to stay at home for long,” said Mr. Furnival, speaking with a voice that was perhaps a little thick—only a very little thick. No wife on good terms with her husband would have deigned to notice, even in her own mind, an amount of thickness of voice which was so very inconsiderable. But Mrs. Furnival at the present moment did notice it.
“Oh, I did not know,” said Miss Biggs.
“You know now,” said Mr. Furnival, whose ear at once appreciated the hostility of tone which had been assumed.
“You need not be rude to my friend after she has been waiting tea for you till near eleven o’clock,” said Mrs. Furnival. “It is nothing to me, but you should remember that she is not used to it.”
“I wasn’t rude to your friend, and who asked you to wait tea till near eleven o’clock? It is only just ten now, if that signifies.”
“You expressly desired me to wait tea, Mr. Furnival. I have got your letter, and will show it you if you wish it.”
“Nonsense; I just said I should be home—”
“Of course you just said you would be home, and so we waited; and it’s not nonsense; and I declare—! Never mind, Martha, don’t mind me, there’s a good creature. I shall get over it soon;” and then fat, solid, good-humoured Mrs. Furnival burst out into an hysterical fit of sobbing. There was a welcome for a man on his return to his home after a day’s labour!
Miss Biggs immediately got up and came round behind the drawing-room table to her friend’s head. “Be calm, Mrs. Furnival,” she said; “do be calm, and then you will be better soon. Here is the hartshorn.”
“It doesn’t matter, Martha: never mind: leave me alone,” sobbed the poor woman.
“May I be excused for asking what is really the matter?” said Mr. Furnival, “for I’ll be whipped if I know.” Miss Biggs looked at him as if she thought that he ought to be whipped.
“I wonder you ever come near the place at all, I do,” said Mrs. Furnival.
“What place?” asked Mr. Furnival.
“This house in which I am obliged to live by myself, without a soul to speak to, unless when Martha Biggs comes here.”
“Which would be much more frequent, only that I know I am not welcome by everybody.”
“I know that you hate it. How can I help knowing it?—and you hate me too; I know you do;—and I believe you would be glad if you need never come back here at all; I do. Don’t, Martha; leave me alone. I don’t want all that fuss. There; I can bear it now, whatever it is. Do you choose to have your tea, Mr. Furnival? or do you wish to keep the servants waiting out of their beds all night?”
“D⸺ the servants,” said Mr. Furnival.
“Oh laws!” exclaimed Miss Biggs, jumping up out of her chair with her hands and fingers outstretched, as though never, never in her life before, had her ears been wounded by such wicked words as those.
“Mr. Furnival, I am ashamed of you,” said his wife with gathered calmness of stern reproach.
Mr. Furnival was very wrong to swear; doubly wrong to swear before his wife; trebly wrong to swear before a lady visitor; but it must be confessed that there was provocation. That he was at this present period of his life behaving badly to his wife must be allowed, but on this special evening he had intended to behave well. The woman had sought a ground of quarrel against him, and had driven him on till he had forgotten himself in his present after-dinner humour. When a man is maintaining a whole household on his own shoulders, and working hard to maintain it well, it is not right that he should be brought to book because he keeps the servants up half an hour later than usual to wash the tea-things. It is very proper that the idle members of the establishment should conform to hours, but these hours must give way to his requirements. In those old days of which we have spoken so often he might have had his tea at twelve, one, two, or three without a murmur. Though their staff of servants then was scanty enough, there was never a difficulty then in supplying any such want for him. If no other pair of hands could boil the kettle, there was one pair of hands there which no amount of such work on his behalf could tire. But now, because he had come in for his tea at ten o’clock, he was asked if he intended to keep the servants out of their beds all night!
“Oh laws!” said Miss Biggs, jumping up from her chair as though she had been electrified.
Mr. Furnival did not think it consistent with his dignity to keep up any dispute in the presence of Miss Biggs, and therefore sat himself down in his accustomed chair without further speech. “Would you wish to have tea now, Mr. Furnival?” asked his wife again, putting considerable stress upon the word now.
“I don’t care about it,” said he.
“And I am sure I don’t at this late hour,” said Miss Biggs. “But so tired as you are, dear—”
“Never mind me, Martha; as for myself, I shall take nothing now.” And then they all sat
