Men's Wives [41]
violently, he was almost choking in his stays: he had been prepared for the visit, but his courage failed him now it had come. They were both silent for some minutes. "You know what I am come for," at last said Morgiana from under her veil, but she put it aside as she spoke. "I--that is--yes--it's a painful affair, mem," he said, giving one look at her pale face, and then turning away in a flurry. "I beg to refer you to Blunt, Hone, and Sharpus, my lawyers, mem," he added, collecting himself. "I didn't expect this from YOU, Mr. Eglantine," said the lady, and began to sob. "And after what's 'appened, I didn't expect a visit from YOU, mem. I thought Mrs. Capting Walker was too great a dame to visit poor Harchibald Eglantine (though some of the first men in the country DO visit him). Is there anything in which I can oblige you, mem?" "O heavens!" cried the poor woman; "have I no friend left? I never thought that you, too, would have deserted me, Mr. Archibald." The "Archibald," pronounced in the old way, had evidently an effect on the perfumer; he winced and looked at her very eagerly for a moment. "What can I do for you, mem?" at last said he. "What is this bill against Mr. Walker, for which he is now in prison?" "Perfumery supplied for five years; that man used more 'air-brushes than any duke in the land, and as for eau-de-Cologne, he must have bathed himself in it. He hordered me about like a lord. He never paid me one shilling--he stabbed me in my most vital part--but ah! ah! never mind THAT: and I said I would be revenged, and I AM." The perfumer was quite in a rage again by this time, and wiped his fat face with his pocket-handkerchief, and glared upon Mrs. Walker with a most determined air. "Revenged on whom? Archibald--Mr. Eglantine, revenged on me--on a poor woman whom you made miserable! You would not have done so once." "Ha! and a precious way you treated me ONCE," said Eglantine: "don't talk to me, mem, of ONCE. Bury the recollection of once for hever! I thought my 'eart would have broke once, but no: 'earts are made of sterner stuff. I didn't die, as I thought I should; I stood it--and I live to see the woman who despised me at my feet." "Oh, Archibald!" was all the lady could say, and she fell to sobbing again: it was perhaps her best argument with the perfumer. "Oh, Harchibald, indeed!" continued he, beginning to swell; "don't call me Harchibald, Morgiana. Think what a position you might have held if you'd chose: when, when--you MIGHT have called me Harchibald. Now it's no use," added he, with harrowing pathos; "but, though I've been wronged, I can't bear to see women in tears- -tell me what I can do." "Dear good Mr. Eglantine, send to your lawyers and stop this horrid prosecution--take Mr. Walker's acknowledgment for the debt. If he is free, he is sure to have a very large sum of money in a few days, and will pay you all. Do not ruin him--do not ruin me by persisting now. Be the old kind Eglantine you were." Eglantine took a hand, which Morgiana did not refuse; he thought about old times. He had known her since childhood almost; as a girl he dandled her on his knee at the "Kidneys;" as a woman he had adored her--his heart was melted. "He did pay me in a sort of way," reasoned the perfumer with himself--"these bonds, though they are not worth much, I took 'em for better or for worse, and I can't bear to see her crying, and to trample on a woman in distress. Morgiana," he added, in a loud cheerful voice, "cheer up; I'll give you a release for your husband: I WILL be the old kind Eglantine I was." "Be the old kind jackass you vash!" here roared a voice that made Mr. Eglantine start. "Vy, vat an old fat fool you are, Eglantine, to give up our just debts because a voman comes snivelling and crying to you--and such a voman, too!" exclaimed Mr. Mossrose, for his was the voice. "Such a woman, sir?" cried the senior partner. "Yes; such a woman--vy, didn't she jilt you herself?--hasn't she been trying the same game with Baroski; and are you so green as to give up a hundred and fifty pounds because