It was then understood between us and the clerk that on no excuse whatever should Mrs. Brumby be again admitted to my room, and I thought that the matter was over. “She shall have to fight her way through if she does get in,” said the lad. “She aint going to knock me about any more—woman or no woman.” “O, dea, certe,” we exclaimed. “It shall be a dear job to her if she touches me again,” said the clerk, catching up the sound.
We really thought we had done with Mrs. Brumby, but at the end of four or five days there came to us a letter, which we have still in our possession, and which we will now venture to make public. It was as follows. It was addressed not to ourselves but to Messrs. X., Y., Z., the very respectable proprietors of the periodical which we were managing on their behalf.
Pluck Court, Gray’s Inn, 31st March, 18—.
Gentlemen,
We are instructed by our client, Lieutenant Brumby, late of the Duke of Sussex’s Own regiment, to call upon you for payment of the sum of twenty-five guineas due to him for a manuscript essay on Costume, supplied by his wife to the ⸻ Magazine, which is, we believe, your property, by special contract with Mr. ⸻, the Editor. We are also directed to require from you and from Mr. ⸻ a full apology in writing for the assault committed on Mrs. Brumby in your Editor’s room on the 27th instant; and an assurance also that the columns of your periodical shall not be closed against that lady because of this transaction. We request that £1 13s. 8d., our costs, may be forwarded to us, together with the above-named sum of twenty-five guineas.
We were in the habit of looking in at the shop in Paternoster Row on the first of every month, and on that inauspicious first of April the above letter was handed to us by our friend Mr. X. “I hope you haven’t been and put your foot in it,” said Mr. X. We protested that we had not put our foot in it at all, and we told him the whole story. “Don’t let us have a lawsuit, whatever you do,” said Mr. X. “The magazine isn’t worth it.” We ridiculed the idea of a lawsuit, but we took away with us Messrs. Badger and Blister’s letter and showed it to our legal adviser, Mr. Sharp. Mr. Sharp was of opinion that Badger and Blister meant fighting. When we pointed out to him the absolute absurdity of the whole thing, he merely informed us that we did not know Badger and Blister. “They’ll take up any case,” said he, “however hopeless, and work it with superhuman energy, on the mere chance of getting something out of the defendant. Whatever is got out of him becomes theirs. They never disgorge.” We were quite confident that nothing could be got out of the magazine on behalf of Mrs. Brumby, and we left the case in Mr. Sharp’s hands, thinking that our trouble in the matter was over.
A fortnight elapsed, and then we were called upon to meet Mr. Sharp in Paternoster Row. We found our friend Mr. X. with a somewhat unpleasant visage. Mr. X. was a thriving man, usually just, and sometimes generous but he didn’t like being “put upon.” Mr. Sharp had actually recommended that some trifle should be paid to Mrs. Brumby, and Mr. X. seemed to think that this expense would, in case that advice were followed, have been incurred through fault on our part. “A ten-pound note will set it all right,” said Mr. Sharp.
“Yes;—a ten-pound note—just flung into the gutter. I wonder that you allowed yourself to have anything to do with such a woman.” We protested against this injustice, giving Mr. X. to know that he didn’t understand and couldn’t understand our business. “I’m not so sure of that,” said Mr. X. There was almost a quarrel, and we began to doubt whether Mrs. Brumby would not be the means of taking the very bread from out of our mouths. Mr. Sharp at last suggested that in spite of what he had seen from Mrs. Brumby, the lieutenant would probably be a gentleman. “Not a doubt about it,” said Mr. X., who was always fond of officers and of the army, and at the moment seemed to think more of a paltry lieutenant than of his own Editor.
Mr. Sharp actually pressed upon us and upon Mr. X. that we should call upon the lieutenant and explain matters to him. Mrs. Brumby had always been with us at twelve o’clock. “Go at noon,” said Mr. Sharp, “and you’ll certainly find her out.” He instructed us to tell the lieutenant “just the plain truth,” as he called it, and
