“With a view to fighting the gentleman?” we asked.
“No, Sir. An officer in the Duke of Sussex’s Own draws his sword against no enemy so unworthy of his steel.” She had told me at a former interview that the lieutenant was so confirmed an invalid as to be barely able, on his best days, to drag himself out of bed. “One fights with one’s equal, but the law gives redress from injury, whether it be inflicted by equal, by superior, or by—Inferior.” And Mrs. Brumby, as she uttered the last word, wagged her helmet at us in a manner which left no doubt as to the position which she assigned to us.
It became clearly necessary that an end should be put to an intercourse which had become so very unpleasant. We told our Minerva very plainly that we must beg her to leave us. There is, however, nothing more difficult to achieve than the expulsion of a woman who is unwilling to quit the place she occupies. We remember to have seen a lady take possession of a seat in a mail coach to which she was not entitled, and which had been booked and paid for by another person. The agent for the coaching business desired her with many threats to descend, but she simply replied that the journey to her was a matter of such moment that she felt herself called upon to keep her place. The agent sent the coachman to pull her out. The coachman threatened—with his hands as well as with his words—and then set the guard at her. The guard attacked her with inflamed visage and fearful words about Her Majesty’s mails, and then set the ostlers at her. We thought the ostlers were going to handle her roughly, but it ended by their scratching their heads, and by a declaration on the part of one of them that she was “the rummest go he’d ever seen.” She was a woman, and they couldn’t touch her. A policeman was called upon for assistance, who offered to lock her up, but he could only do so if allowed to lock up the whole coach as well. It was ended by the production of another coach, by an exchange of the luggage and passengers, by a delay of two hours, and an embarrassing possession of the original vehicle by the lady in the midst of a crowd of jeering boys and girls. We could tell Mrs. Brumby to go, and we could direct our boy to open the door, and we could make motions indicatory of departure with our left hand, but we could not forcibly turn her out of the room. She asked us for the name of our lawyer, and we did write down for her on a slip of paper the address of a most respectable firm, whom we were pleased to regard as our attorneys, but who had never yet earned six and eightpence from the magazine. Young Sharp, of the firm of Sharp and Butterwell, was our friend, and would no doubt see to the matter for us should it be necessary;—but we could not believe that the woman would be so foolish. She made various assertions to us as to her position in the world of literature, and it was on this occasion that she brought out those printed slips which we have before mentioned. She offered to refer the matter in dispute between us to the arbitration of the editor of the Curricle; and when we indignantly declined such interference, protesting that there was no matter in dispute, she again informed us that if we thought to trample upon her we were very much mistaken. Then there occurred a little episode which moved us to laughter in the midst of our wrath. Our boy, in obedience to our pressing commands that he should usher Mrs. Brumby out of our presence, did lightly touch her arm. Feeling the degradation of the assault, Minerva swung round upon the unfortunate lad and gave him a box on the ear which we’ll be bound the editor of the West Barsetshire Gazette remembers to this day. “Madam,” we said, as soon as we had swallowed down the first involuntary attack of laughter, “if you conduct yourself in this manner we must send for the police.”
“Do, Sir, if you dare,” replied Minerva, “and every man of letters in the metropolis shall hear of your conduct.” There was nothing in her threat to move us, but we confess that we were uncomfortable. “Before I leave you, Sir,” she said, “I will give you one more chance. Will you perform your contract with me and accept my contribution?”
“Certainly not,” we replied. She afterwards quoted this answer as admitting a contract.
We are often told that everything must come to an end—and there was an end at last to Mrs. Brumby’s visit. She went from us with an assurance that she should at once return home, pick up the lieutenant—hinting that the exertion, caused altogether by our wickedness, might be the death of that gallant officer—and go with him direct to her attorney. The world of literature should hear of the terrible injustice which had been done to her, and the courts of law should hear of it too.
We confess that we were grievously annoyed. By the time that Mrs. Brumby had left the premises, our clerk had gone also. He had rushed off to the nearest police-court to swear an information against her on account of the box on the ear which she had given him, and we were unable to leave our desk till he had returned. We found that for the present the doing of any work in our line of business was quite out
