6. Chapter vi. A friendly conversation in the kitchen...
A friendly conversation in the kitchen, which had a very common,
though not very friendly, conclusion.
While our lovers were entertaining themselves in the manner which is
partly described in the foregoing chapter, they were likewise
furnishing out an entertainment for their good friends in the kitchen.
And this in a double sense, by affording them matter for their
conversation, and, at the same time, drink to enliven their spirits.
There were now assembled round the kitchen fire, besides my landlord
and landlady, who occasionally went backward and forward, Mr
Partridge, the serjeant, and the coachman who drove the young lady and
her maid.
Partridge having acquainted the company with what he had learnt from
the Man of the Hill concerning the situation in which Mrs Waters had
been found by Jones, the serjeant proceeded to that part of her
history which was known to him. He said she was the wife of Mr Waters,
who was a captain in their regiment, and had often been with him at
quarters. "Some folks," says he, "used indeed to doubt whether they
were lawfully married in a church or no. But, for my part, that's no
business of mine: I must own, if I was put to my corporal oath, I
believe she is little better than one of us; and I fancy the captain
may go to heaven when the sun shines upon a rainy day. But if he does,
that is neither here nor there; for he won't want company. And the
lady, to give the devil his due, is a very good sort of lady, and
loves the cloth, and is always desirous to do strict justice to it;
for she hath begged off many a poor soldier, and, by her good-will,
would never have any of them punished. But yet, to be sure, Ensign
Northerton and she were very well acquainted together at our last
quarters; that is the very right and truth of the matter. But the
captain he knows nothing about it; and as long as there is enough for
him too, what does it signify? He loves her not a bit the worse, and I
am certain would run any man through the body that was to abuse her;
therefore I won't abuse her, for my part. I only repeat what other
folks say; and, to be certain, what everybody says, there must be some
truth in."--"Ay, ay, a great deal of truth, I warrant you," cries
Partridge; "Veritas odium parit"--"All a parcel of scandalous
stuff," answered the mistress of the house. "I am sure, now she is
drest, she looks like a very good sort of lady, and she behaves
herself like one; for she gave me a guinea for the use of my
cloaths."--"A very good lady indeed!" cries the landlord; "and if you
had not been a little too hasty, you would not have quarrelled with
her as you did at first."--"You need mention that with my truly!"
answered she: "if it had not been for your nonsense, nothing had
happened. You must be meddling with what did not belong to you, and
throw in your fool's discourse."--"Well, well," answered he; "what's
past cannot be mended, so there's an end of the matter."--"Yes," cries
she, "for this once; but will it be mended ever the more hereafter?
This is not the first time I have suffered for your numscull's pate. I
wish you would always hold your tongue in the house, and meddle only
in matters without doors, which concern you. Don't you remember what
happened about seven years ago?"--"Nay, my dear," returned he, "don't
rip up old stories. Come, come, all's well, and I am sorry for what I
have done." The landlady was going to reply, but was prevented by the
peace-making serjeant, sorely to the displeasure of Partridge, who was
a great lover of what is called fun, and a great promoter of those
harmless quarrels which tend rather to the production of comical than
tragical incidents.