“Friends!” cried Mrs. Chump, getting courage from the savour of cajolery in these words. “Friends! Oh, ye fox! ye fox!”
And now commenced a curious duett. Wilfrid merely wished to terminate his sentence; Mrs. Chump wantonly sought to prevent him. Each was burdened with serious matter; but they might have struck hands here, had not this petty accidental opposition interposed.
—“Makes me feel confident...” Wilfrid resumed.
“And Pole’s promos, Mr. Wilfrud; ye’re forgettin’ that.”
“Confident, ma’am.”
“He was the firrst to be soft.”
“I say, ma’am, for his sake—”
“An’ it’s for his sake. And weak as he is on ’s legs, poor fells; which marr’ge ‘ll cure, bein’ a certain rem’dy.”
“Mrs. Chump! I beg you to listen.”
“Mr. Wilfrud! and I can see too, and it’s three weeks and ye kissed little Belloni in the passage, outside this vary door, and out in the garden.”
The blow was entirely unexpected, and took Wilfrid’s breath, so that he was not ready for his turn in this singular piece of harmony.
“Ye did!” Mrs. Chump rejoiced to behold how her chance spark kindled flame in his cheeks. “It’s pos’tuv ye did. And ye’re the best blusher of the two, my dear; and no shame to ye, though it is a garl’s business. That little Belloni takes to ’t like milk; but you—”
Wilfrid strode up to her, saying imperiously, “I tell you to listen!”
She succumbed at once to a show of physical ascendency, murmuring, “It’s sure he was seen kissin’ of her twice, and mayhap more; and hearty smacks of the lips, too—likin’ it.”
The ladies rewarded Wilfrid for his service to their cause by absolutely hearing nothing—a feat women can be capable of.
Wilfrid, however, was angered by the absurdity of the charge and the scene, and also by the profane touch on Emilia’s name.
“I must tell you, ma’am, that for my father’s sake I must desire you to quit this—you will see the advisability of quitting this house for a time.”
“Pole’s promus! Pole’s promus!” Mrs. Chump wailed again.
“Will you give me your assurance now that you will go, to be our guest again subsequently?”
“In writin’ and in words, Mr. Wilfrud!”
“Answer me, ma’am.”
“I will, Mr. Wilfrud; and Mr. Braintop’s a witness, knowin’ the nature of an oath. There naver was a more sacrud promus. Says Pole, ‘Martha—’”
Wilfrid changed his tactics. Sitting down by her side, he said: “I am sure you have an affection for my father.”
“I’m the most lovin’ woman, my dear! If it wasn’t for my vartue I don’t know what’d become o’ me. Ye could ask Chump, if he wasn’t in his grave, poor fella! I’ll be cryin’ like a squeezed orr’nge presently. What with Chump and Pole, two’s too many for a melanch’ly woman.”
“You have an affection for my father I know, ma’am. Now, see! he’s ill. If you press him to do what we certainly resist, you endanger his life.”