Chapter 4

"And then, when you're out late, Caudle--for I know you must be out late sometimes: I can't expect you, of course, to be always at home- -why then dear mother could sit up for you, and nothing would delight the dear soul half so much.

"And so, Caudle, love, I think dear mother had better come, don't you? Eh, Caudle? Now, you're not asleep, darling; don't you think she'd better come? You say NO?

"You say NO again? YOU WON'T HAVE HER, you say?

"YOU WON'T, THAT'S FLAT?

"Caudle--Cau-Cau-dle--Cau--dle--"

"Here Mrs. Caudle," says her husband, "suddenly went into tears; and I went to sleep."

LECTURE XII--MR. CAUDLE HAVING COME HOME A LITTLE LATE, DECLARES THAT HENCEFORTH "HE WILL HAVE A KEY."

"'Pon my word, Mr. Caudle, I think it a waste of time to come to bed at all now! The cocks will be crowing in a minute. Keeping people up till past twelve. Oh yes! you're thought a man of very fine feelings out of doors, I dare say! It's a pity you haven't a little feeling for those belonging to you at home. A nice hour to keep people out of their beds!

"WHY DID I SIT UP, THEN?

"Because I chose to sit up--but that's my thanks. No, it's no use your talking, Caudle; I never WILL let the girl sit up for you, and there's an end. What do you say?

"WHY DOES SHE SIT UP WITH ME, THEN?

"That's quite a different matter: you don't suppose I'm going to sit up alone, do you? What do you say?

"WHAT'S THE USE OF TWO SITTING UP?

"That's my business. No, Caudle, it's no such thing. I DON'T sit up because I may have the pleasure of talking about it; and you're an ungrateful, unfeeling creature to say so. I sit up because I choose it; and if you don't come home all the night long--and 'twill soon come to that, I've no doubt--still, I'll never go to bed, so don't think it.

"Oh, yes! the time runs away very pleasantly with you men at your clubs--selfish creatures! You can laugh and sing, and tell stories, and never think of the clock; never think there's such a person as a wife belonging to you. It's nothing to you that a poor woman's sitting up, and telling the minutes, and seeing all sorts of things in the fire--and sometimes thinking something dreadful has happened to you--more fool she to care a straw about you!--This is all nothing. Oh no; when a woman's once married she's a slave--worse than a slave--and must bear it all!

"And what you men can find to talk about I can't think! Instead of a man sitting every night at home with his wife, and going to bed at a Christian hour,--going to a club, to meet a set of people who don't care a button for him--it's monstrous! What do you say?

"YOU ONLY GO ONCE A WEEK?

"That's nothing at all to do with it: you might as well go every night; and I daresay you will soon. But if you do, you may get in as you can: _I_ won't sit up for you, I can tell you.

"My health's being destroyed night after night, and--oh, don't say it's only once a week; I tell you that's nothing to do with it--if you had any eyes, you would see how ill I am; but you've no eyes for anybody belonging to you: oh no! your eyes are for people out of doors. It's very well for you to call me a foolish, aggravating woman! I should like to see the woman who'd sit up for you as I do.

"YOU DIDN'T WANT ME TO SIT UP?

"Yes, yes; that's your thanks--that's your gratitude: I'm to ruin my health, and to be abused for it. Nice principles you've got at that club, Mr. Caudle!

"But there's one comfort--one great comfort; it can't last long: I'm sinking--I feel it, though I never say anything about it--but I know my own feelings, and I say it can't last long. And then I should like to know who will sit up for you! Then I should like to know how your second wife--what do you say?

"YOU'LL NEVER BE TROUBLED WITH ANOTHER?

"Troubled, indeed! I never troubled you, Caudle. No; it's you who've troubled me; and you know it; though like a foolish woman I've borne it all, and never said a word about it. But it CAN'T last-- that's one blessing!

"Oh, if a woman could only know what she'd have to suffer before she was married--Don't tell me you want to go to sleep! If you want to go to sleep, you should come home at proper hours! It's time to get up, for what I know, now. Shouldn't wonder if you hear the milk in five minutes--there's the sparrows up already; yes, I say the sparrows; and, Caudle, you ought to blush to hear 'em.

"YOU DON'T HEAR 'EM?

"Ha! you won't hear 'em, you mean: _I_ hear 'em. No, Mr. Caudle; it ISN'T the wind whistling in the keyhole; I'm not quite foolish, though you may think so. I hope I know wind from a sparrow!

"Ha! when I think what a man you were before we were married! But you're now another person--quite an altered creature. But I suppose you're all alike--I dare say, every poor woman's troubled and put upon, though I should hope not so much as I am. Indeed, I should hope not! Going and staying out, and -

"What!

"YOU'LL HAVE A KEY?

"Will you? Not while I'm alive, Mr Caudle. I'm not going to bed with the door upon the latch for you or the best man breathing.

"YOU WON'T HAVE A LATCH--YOU'LL HAVE A CHUBB'S LOCK?

"Will you? I'll have no Chubb here, I can tell you. What do you say?

"YOU'LL HAVE THE LOCK PUT ON TO-MORROW?

"Well, try it; that's all I say, Caudle; try it. I won't let you put me in a passion; but all I say is,--try it.

"A respectable thing, that, for a married man to carry about with him,--a street-door key! That tells a tale I think. A nice thing for the father of a family! A key! What, to let yourself in and out when you please! To come in, like a thief in the middle of the night, instead of knocking at the door like a decent person! Oh, don't tell me that you only want to prevent me sitting up--if I choose to sit up what's that to you? Some wives, indeed, would make a noise about sitting up, but YOU'VE no reason to complain--goodness knows!

"Well, upon my word, I've lived to hear something. Carry the street- door key about with you! I've heard of such things with young good- for-nothing bachelors, with nobody to care what became of 'em; but for a married man to leave his wife and children in a house with a door upon the latch--don't talk to me about Chubb, it's all the same- -a great deal you must care for us. Yes, it's very well for you to say that you only want the key for peace and quietness--what's it to you, if I like to sit up? You've no business to complain; it can't distress you. Now, it's no use your talking; all I say is this, Caudle: if you send a man to put on any lock here, I'll call in a policeman; as I'm your married wife, I will.

"No, I think when a man comes to have the street-door key, the sooner he turns bachelor altogether the better. I'm sure, Caudle, I don't want to be any clog upon you. Now, it's no use your telling me to hold my tongue, for I--What?

"I GIVE YOU THE HEADACHE, DO I?

"No, I don't, Caudle; it's your club that gives you the headache; it's your smoke, and your--well! if ever I knew such a man in all my life! there's no saying a word to you! You go out, and treat yourself like an emperor--and come home at twelve at night, or any hour for what I know, and then you threaten to have a key, and--and-- and--"

"I did get to sleep at last," says Caudle, "amidst the falling sentences of 'take children into a lodging'--'separate maintenance'-- 'won't be made a slave of'--and so forth."

LECTURE XIII--MRS. CAUDLE HAS BEEN TO SEE HER DEAR MOTHER.--CAUDLE, ON THE "JOYFUL OCCASION," HAS GIVEN A PARTY, AND ISSUED A CARD OF INVITATION

"It IS hard, I think, Mr. Caudle, that I can't leave home for a day or two, but the house must be turned into a tavern: a tavern?--a pothouse! Yes, I thought you were very anxious that I should go; I thought you wanted to get rid of me for something, or you would not have insisted on my staying at dear mother's all night. You were afraid I should get cold coming home, were you? Oh yes, you can be very tender, you can, Mr. Caudle, when it suits your own purpose. Yes! and the world thinks what a good husband you are! I only wish the world knew you as well as I do, that's all; but it shall, some day, I'm determined.

"I'm sure the house will not be sweet for a month. All the curtains are poisoned with smoke; and what's more, with the filthiest smoke I ever knew.

"TAKE 'EM DOWN, THEN?

"Yes, it's all very well for you to say take 'em down; but they were only cleaned and put up a month ago; but a careful wife's lost upon you, Mr. Caudle. You ought to have married somebody who'd have let your house go to wreck and ruin, as I will for the future. People who don't care for their families are better thought of than those who do; I've long found out THAT.

"And what a condition the carpet's in! They've taken five pounds out of it, if a farthing, with their filthy boots, and I don't know what besides. And then the smoke in the hearthrug, and a large cinder- hole burnt in it! I never saw such a house in MY life! If you wanted to have a few friends, why couldn't you invite 'em when your wife's at home, like any other man? not have 'em sneaking in, like a set of housebreakers, directly a woman turns her back. They must be pretty gentlemen, they must; mean fellows, that are afraid to face a woman! Ha! and you all call yourselves the lords of the creation! I should only like to see what would become of the creation, if you were left to yourselves! A pretty pickle creation would be in very soon!

"You must all have been in a nice condition! What do you say?

"YOU TOOK NOTHING?

"Took nothing, didn't you? I'm sure there's such a regiment of empty bottles, I haven't had the heart to count 'em. And punch, too! you must have punch! There's a hundred half-lemons in the kitchen, if there's one: for Susan, like a good girl, kept 'em to show 'em me. No, sir; Susan SHAN'T LEAVE THE HOUSE! What do you say?

"SHE HAS NO RIGHT TO TELL TALES, AND YOU WILL BE MASTER IN YOUR OWN HOUSE?

"Will you? If you don't alter, Mr. Caudle, you'll soon have no house to be master of. A whole loaf of sugar did I leave in the cupboard, and now there isn't as much as would fill a teacup. Do you suppose I'm to find sugar for punch for fifty men? What do you say?

"THERE WASN'T FIFTY?

"That's no matter; the more shame for 'em, sir. I'm sure they drank enough for fifty. Do you suppose I'm to find sugar for punch for all the world out of my housekeeping money?"

"YOU DON'T ASK ME?

"Don't you ask me? You do; you know you do: for if I only want a shilling extra, the house is in a blaze. And yet a whole loaf of sugar can you throw away upon--No, I WON'T be still; and I WON'T let you go to sleep. If you'd got to bed at a proper hour last night, you wouldn't have been so sleepy now. You can sit up half the night with a pack of people who don't care for you, and your poor wife can't get in a word!

"And there's that china image that I had when I was married--I wouldn't have taken any sum of money for it, and you know it--and how do I find it? With its precious head knocked off! And what was more mean, more contemptible than all besides, it was put on again, as if nothing had happened.

"YOU KNEW NOTHING ABOUT IT?

"Now, how can you lie there, in your Christian bed, Caudle, and say that? You know that that fellow, Prettyman, knocked off the head with the poker! You know that he did. And you hadn't the feeling-- yes, I will say it--you hadn't the feeling to protect what you knew was precious to me. Oh no, if the truth was known, you were glad to see it broken for that very reason.

"Every way I've been insulted. I should like to know who it was who corked whiskers on my dear aunt's picture? Oh! you're laughing, are you?

"YOU'RE NOT LAUGHING?

"Don't tell me that. I should like to know what shakes the bed, then, if you're not laughing? Yes, corked whiskers on her dear face,--and she was a dear soul to you, Caudle, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself to see her ill-used. Oh, you may laugh! It's very easy to laugh! I only wish you'd a little feeling, like other people, that's all.

"Then there's my china mug--the mug I had before I was married--when I was a happy creature. I should like to know who knocked the spout off that mug? Don't tell me it was cracked before--it's no such thing, Caudle; there wasn't a flaw in it--and now, I could have cried when I saw it. Don't tell me it wasn't worth twopence. How do you know? You never buy mugs. But that's like men; they think nothing in a house costs anything.

"There's four glasses broke, and nine cracked. At least, that's all I've found out at present; but I daresay I shall discover a dozen to- morrow.

"And I should like to know where the cotton umbrella's gone to--and I should like to know who broke the bell-pull--and perhaps you don't know there's a leg off a chair,--and perhaps--"

"I was resolved," said Caudle, "to know nothing, and so went to sleep in my ignorance."

LECTURE XIV--MRS. CAUDLE THINKS IT "HIGH TIME" THAT THE CHILDREN SHOULD HAVE SUMMER CLOTHING

"There, Caudle! If there's anything in the world I hate--and you know it, Caudle--it is asking you for money. I am sure for myself, I'd rather go without a thing a thousand times, and I do--the more shame of you to let me, but--there, now! there you fly out again!

"WHAT DO I WANT NOW?

"Why, you must know what's wanted, if you'd any eyes--or any pride for your children, like any other father.

"WHAT'S THE MATTER--AND WHAT AM I DRIVING AT?

"Oh, nonsense, Caudle! As if you didn't know! I'm sure if I'd any money of my own, I'd never ask you for a farthing; never; it's painful to me, goodness knows! What do you say?

"IF IT'S PAINFUL, WHY SO OFTEN DO IT?

"Ha! I suppose you call that a joke--one of your club jokes? I wish you'd think a little more of people's feelings, and less of your jokes. As I say, I only wish I'd any money of my own. If there is anything that humbles a poor woman, it is coming to a man's pocket for every farthing. It's dreadful!

"Now, Caudle, if ever you kept awake, you shall keep awake to-night-- yes, you shall hear me, for it isn't often I speak, and then you may go to sleep as soon as you like. Pray do you know what month it is? And did you see how the children looked at church to-day--like nobody else's children?

"WHAT WAS THE MATTER WITH THEM?

"Oh, Caudle! How can you ask? Poor things! weren't they all in their thick merinos and beaver bonnets? What do you say? -

"WHAT OF IT?

"What! you'll tell me that you didn't see how the Briggs's girls, in their new chips, turned their noses up at 'em? And you didn't see how the Browns looked at the Smiths, and then at our dear girls, as much as to say, 'Poor creatures! what figures for the month of May!'

"YOU DIDN'T SEE IT?

"The more shame for you--you would, if you'd had the feelings of a parent--but I'm sorry to say, Caudle, you haven't. I'm sure those Briggs's girls--the little minxes!--put me into such a pucker, I could have pulled their ears for 'em over the pew. What do you say?

"I OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED OF MYSELF TO OWN IT?

"No, Mr. Caudle; the shame lies with you, that don't let your children appear at church like other people's children, that make 'em uncomfortable at their devotions, poor things! for how can it be otherwise, when they see themselves dressed like nobody else?

"Now, Caudle, it's no use talking; those children shall not cross the threshold next Sunday, if they haven't things for the summer. Now mind--they sha'n't; and there's an end of it. I won't have 'em exposed to the Briggs's and the Browns again: no, they shall know they have a mother, if they've no father to feel for 'em. What do you say, Caudle?

"A GOOD DEAL I MUST THINK OF CHURCH, IF I THINK SO MUCH OF WHAT WE GO IN?

"I only wish you thought as much as I do, you'd be a better man than you are, Caudle, I can tell you; but that's nothing to do with it. I'm talking about decent clothes for the children for the summer, and you want to put me off with something about the church; but that's so like you, Caudle!

"I'M ALWAYS WANTING MONEY FOR CLOTHES?

"How can you lie in your bed and say that? I'm sure there's no children in the world that cost their father so little: but that's it; the less a poor woman does upon, the less she may. It's the wives who don't care where the money comes from who're best thought of. Oh, if my time was to come over again, would I mend and stitch, and make the things go so far as I have done? No--that I wouldn't. Yes, it's very well for you to lie there and laugh; it's easy to laugh, Caudle--very easy, to people who don't feel.

"Now, Caudle, dear! What a man you are! I know you'll give me the money, because, after all, I think you love your children, and like to see 'em well dressed. It's only natural that a father should. Eh, Caudle, eh? Now you sha'n't go to sleep till you've told me.

"HOW MUCH MONEY DO I WANT?

"Why, let me see, love. There's Caroline, and Jane, and Susannah, and Mary Anne, and--What do you say?

"I NEEDN'T COUNT 'EM; YOU KNOW HOW MANY THERE ARE?

"Ha! that's just as you take me up. Well, how much money will it take? Let me see; and don't go to sleep. I'll tell you in a minute. You always love to see the dear things like new pins, I know that, Caudle; and though I say it--bless their little hearts!--they do credit to you, Caudle. Any nobleman of the land might be proud of 'em. Now don't swear at noblemen of the land, and ask me what they've to do with your children; you know what I meant. But you ARE so hasty, Caudle.

"HOW MUCH?

"Now, don't be in a hurry! Well, I think, with good pinching--and you know, Caudle, there's never a wife who can pinch closer than I can--I think, with pinching, I can do with twenty pounds. What did you say?

"TWENTY FIDDLESTICKS?

"What?

"YOU WON'T GIVE HALF THE MONEY?

"Very well, Mr. Caudle; I don't care: let the children go in rags; let them stop from church, and grow up like heathens and cannibals, and then you'll save your money, and, I suppose, be satisfied.

"YOU GAVE ME TWENTY POUNDS FIVE MONTHS AGO?

"What's five months ago to do with now? Besides, what I HAVE had is nothing to do with it.

"What do you say?

"TEN POUNDS ARE ENOUGH?

"Yes, just like you men; you think things cost nothing for women; but you don't care how much you lay out upon yourselves.

"THEY ONLY WANT BONNETS AND FROCKS?

"How do you know what they want? HOW should a man know anything at all about it? And you won't give more than ten pounds? Very well. Then you may go shopping with it yourself, and see what YOU'LL make of it. I'll have none of your ten pounds, I can tell you. No, sir,- -no; you have no cause to say that.

"I DON'T WANT TO DRESS THE CHILDREN UP LIKE COUNTESSES?

"You often fling that in my teeth, you do: but you know it's false, Caudle; you know it. I only want to give 'em proper notions of themselves: and what, indeed, CAN the poor things think when they see the Briggs's, and the Browns, and the Smiths--and their fathers don't make the money you do, Caudle--when they see them as fine as tulips? Why, they must think themselves nobody; and to think yourself nobody--depend upon it, Caudle,--isn't the way to make the world think anything of you.

"What do you say?

"WHERE DID I PICK UP THAT?

"Where do you think? I know a great deal more than you suppose--yes; though you don't give me credit for it. Husbands seldom do. However, the twenty pounds I WILL have, if I've any--or not a farthing. No, sir, no.

"I DON'T WANT TO DRESS UP THE CHILDREN LIKE PEACOCKS AND PARROTS!

"I only want to make 'em respectable and--what do you say?

"YOU'LL GIVE FIFTEEN POUNDS?

"No, Caudle, no--not a penny will I take under twenty; if I did, it would seem as if I wanted to waste your money: and I'm sure, when I come to think of it, twenty pounds will hardly do. Still, if you'll give me twenty--no, it's no use your offering fifteen, and wanting to go to sleep. You sha'n't close an eye until you promise me twenty. Come, Caudle, love!--twenty, and then you may go to sleep. Twenty-- twenty--twenty--"

"My impression is," writes Caudle, "that I fell asleep sticking firmly to the fifteen; but in the morning Mrs. Caudle assured me, as a woman of honour, that she wouldn't let me wink an eye before I promised the twenty: and man is frail--and woman is strong--she had the money."

LECTURE XV--MR. CAUDLE HAS AGAIN STAYED OUT LATE. MRS. CAUDLE, AT FIRST INJURED AND VIOLENT, MELTS

"Perhaps, Mr. Caudle, you'll tell me where this is to end? Though, goodness knows, I needn't ask THAT. The end is plain enough. Out-- out--out! Every night--every night! I'm sure, men who can't come home at reasonable hours have no business with wives: they have no right to destroy other people, if they choose to go to destruction themselves. Ha, lord! Oh, dear! I only hope none of my girls will ever marry--I hope they'll none of 'em ever be the slave their poor mother is: they shan't, if I can help it. What do you say?

"NOTHING?

"Well, I don't wonder at that, Mr. Caudle? you ought to be ashamed to speak; I don't wonder that you can't open your mouth. I'm only astonished that at such hours you have the confidence to knock at your own door. Though I'm your wife, I must say it, I do sometimes wonder at your impudence. What do you say?

"NOTHING?

"Ha! you are an aggravating creature, Caudle; lying there like the mummy of a man, and never as much as opening your lips to one. Just as if your own wife wasn't worth answering! It isn't so when you're out, I'm sure. Oh no! then you can talk fast enough; here, there's no getting a word from you. But you treat your wife as no other man does--and you know it.

"Out--out every night! What?

"YOU HAVEN'T BEEN OUT THIS WEEK BEFORE?

"That's nothing at all to do with it. You might just as well be out all the week as once--just! And I should like to know what could keep you out till these hours?

"BUSINESS?

"Oh, yes--I dare say! Pretty business a married man and the father of a family must have out of doors at one in the morning. What?

"I SHALL DRIVE YOU MAD?

"Oh, no; you haven't feelings enough to go mad--you'd be a better man, Caudle, if you had.

"WILL I LISTEN TO YOU?

"What's the use? Of course you've some story to put me off with--you can all do that, and laugh at us afterwards.

"No, Caudle, don't say that. I'm not always trying to find fault-- not I. It's you. I never speak but when there's occasion; and what in my time I've put up with there isn't anybody in the world that knows.

"WILL I HEAR YOUR STORY?

"Oh, you may tell it if you please; go on: only mind, I sha'n't believe a word of it. I'm not such a fool as other women are, I can tell you.

"There, now--don't begin to swear--but go on--" -

"--And that's your story, is it? That's your excuse for the hours you keep! That's your apology for undermining my health and ruining your family! What do you think your children will say of you when they grow up--going and throwing away your money upon good-for- nothing pot-house acquaintance?

"HE'S NOT A POT-HOUSE ACQUAINTANCE?

"Who is he, then? Come, you haven't told me that; but I know--it's that Prettyman! Yes, to be sure it is! Upon my life! Well, if I've hardly patience to lie in the bed! I've wanted a silver teapot these five years, and you must go and throw away as much money as--what?

"YOU HAVEN'T THROWN IT AWAY?

"Haven't you? Then my name's not Margaret, that's all I know!