I rang the bell; John appeared, he looked very pale.
'What's the matter, John?'
'Sir, my young mistress is crying upstairs ready to break her heart. Hannah was coming downstairs, and heard her say to herself, "Oh, Edward, Edward! I could have borne anything but this, this is too, too cruel!"'
'Just go up, my good man, and tell her luncheon's ready.'
Poor old John! He gave me a look — such a look — and away he went.
Presently he returned.
'Mrs S- will be down directly, sir.'
In a few minutes my lady stalked into the room; there was no trace of tears on her face, she looked like one of the Furies; in the tips of her delicate fingers, in the very tips, and as if she thought them polluted by the contact, she held out to me a remarkably pretty little lace cap, ornamented with a cherry-coloured ribband. The cap was white and clean as driven snow, yet had it been filthy and full of vermin, she could not have regarded it with greater disgust. There was a storm brewing, that was evident, so I became as calm as possible. That is a peculiarity of mine.
'Sir!' said she, with a grand air, 'may I be permitted to enquire how this cap came in your bed?'
'Yes, madam! you may enquire; sorry I can throw no light on the subject,' and I coolly lit a cigar; she watched me like a tigress about to spring.
'Do you dare, sir, to lie in my face! Whose cap is this?'
'Perhaps,' said I, stopping to pull at my cigar, for it did not draw well, 'perhaps it is Hannah's, you know she might have dropped it when she made the bed yesterday.'
'Hannah's indeed!' she cried, with great contempt. 'No, sir, it is not Hannah's, as you know quite well, but that little slut Emma's! And how came those stains on the bed, sir? answer me that.'
'Really, my dear madam, you are becoming so experienced that I know not how to reply to you. What stains do you allude to, I cannot surely have had a wet dream?'
'Wet dream, you vile, bad, debauched man! I know what they mean very well!' and she flew at me like a panther, and planted such a tremendous box on my right ear as nearly knocked me out of my chair.
I very calmly flung the remainder of my cigar under the grate, and seizing both her wrists with a grip of iron, forced her into an armchair. 'Now you little devil,' said I, 'you sit down there, and I give you my honour I will hold you thus till you abjectly and most humbly beg for mercy, and ask my pardon for the gross insult you have inflicted upon me.'
'Insult! think of the insult you have put upon me, you vile wretch, to demean yourself with a little low-bred slut like that!' and struggling violently, she bit the backs of my hands until they were covered with blood, and kicked my shins till she barked them.
'I say, my dear,' said I, 'did you ever see Shakespeare's play of Taming the Shrew.'
No answer.
'Well, my angel, I'm going to tame you.' She renewed her bites and kicks, and called me all the miscreants and vile scoundrels under the sun. I continued to hold her in a vice of iron. Thus we continued till six o'clock.
'If it is your will and pleasure to expose yourself to the servants,' said I, 'pray do, I have no sort of objection, but I will just observe that John will come in presently to clear away the luncheon and lay the cloth for dinner.' A torrent of abuse was the only answer.
'You brute,' she said, 'you have bruised my wrists black and blue.'
'Look at my hands, my precious angel, and my shins are in still worse condition.'
By and by there was a rap on the door, 'Come in,' said I. John appeared. 'Take no notice of us, John, but attend to your business.'
John cleared away the luncheon, and laid the cloth for dinner. Exit John.
'Oh, Edward, you do hurt my wrists so.'
'My ear and face are still burning with the blow you gave me, my hands are torn to pieces with your tiger teeth and will not be fit to be seen for a month, and as to my shins, my drawers are saturated with blood,' said I.
'Let me go! let me go directly, wretch!' and again she bit, kicked and struggled.
'Listen to me,' said I, 'there are 365 days in the year, but by God! if there were 3,605, I will hold you till you apologise in the manner and way I told you, and even then, I shall punish you likewise for the infamous way you have behaved.' She sulked for another half-hour, but did not bite or kick any more. I never relaxed my grasp, or the sternness of my countenance. My hands were streaming with blood, some of the veins were opened, her lap was full of blood, it was a frightful scene.
At length she said, 'Edward, I humbly ask your pardon for the shameful way I have treated you. I apologise for the blow I gave you, I forgive you for any injury you have done me, I promise to be docile and humble in future, and I beg — I beg,' she sobbed, 'your forgiveness.'
I released her hands, pulled the bell violently, told John to run immediately for Dr Monson (the family physician), and fell fainting on the floor. I had lost nearly a pint of blood from the wounds inflicted by the panther. When I recovered my senses I was lying on the sofa, my hands enveloped in strapping, plaster and bandages, as were also my shins. Emma and my wife knelt at my feet crying, while Monson kept pouring port wine down my throat. 'Could you eat a little,' said he kindly.
"Gad, yes,' said I, 'I'm awfully hungry; bring dinner, John.'
They all stared, it was ten o'clock; however dinner was served, though sadly overdone, having been put back three hours. John had only laid covers for two, presuming my wife and I would dine tete-a-tete. I told him to bring two more. Monson and my wife raised their eyebrows — 'Doctor, stay and dine with us, call it supper if you like; Emma, I desire you to seat yourself.' She made towards the door. 'Augusta,' said I, addressing my wife, 'persuade Emma to dine with us. I will it.'
'You had better stay,' said my wife, with a sweet smile. Emma hesitated a moment, and then came and sat beside me.
It was a capital dinner, although damaged, and we all did justice to it. When the cloth was removed, and John had put some port on the table (my mother never gave anything but port and sherry), I proposed a toast, 'Here's to the man who knows how to tame a shrew!' The doctor and Emma looked rather blank, my wife cast down her eyes. 'A bumper! a bumper!' said I, 'I will it.' All three looked at me with some compassion, and filled a bumper and drank it off. At half-past eleven, John brought coffee, after which Monson rose up, and taking my wife aside said in a whisper, which I heard quite well, 'Madam, be careful what you are about; your husband has been shamefully ill-used, and had he died, as I expected he would, you would have been arraigned at a criminal bar for manslaughter. You are a woman of violent passions, learn to restrain them.'
I had one of my bandaged hands up Emma's clothes while he was saying this, and was feeling her lovely young cunny. It was nuts to crack for me.
Dr Monson gone, I rang the bell. 'John, you and the servants can go to bed,' said I. John cast an enquiring glance at Madam and Emma, bowed and retired.
I asked Emma for my cigar-case, as for Augusta, I did not notice her. I lit a cigar, and drawing Emma on my knee, sat before the fire and smoked. 'You can go to bed, Augusta,' said I, as if she was the servant and Emma the wife, 'I shall not want you any more.' The humble woman took her candle, and wishing us both good-night, went to bed.
'Oh, Edward,' said poor little Emma, 'what a dreadful woman she is, she nearly killed you, you nearly bled to death! Dr Monson said two of the great veins at the back of each hand had been opened by her teeth, and that if she had not given in when she did, you would have bled to death.'