Fashion -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Women's periodicals, American
Mrs. Philpot, although conversing in a condescending manner with Mrs.
Darling, caught something of the cook's reply to her summons, and asked
to be excused for a moment, saying that Peggy was so stupid, she feared
that Mudlaw might not understand her, and she would go herself and send
her. So she hastened down to the kitchen, where she found the head
functionary standing on her dignity.
"Pretty well," said she, "if I am to be ordered round by an Irish
scullion!"
"Mrs. Mudlaw, step here a moment, if you please," said Mrs. Philpot,
meekly, opening the door of an adjoining room.
The offended lady vouchsafed to comply with the request, and, with a
stern aspect, entered the room with Mrs. Philpot. The latter closed the
door for fear of being heard overhead, and began--
"What do you think, Mrs. Mudlaw? That Mrs. Darling has come to learn
how to make a potato pudding, and you'll have to go up and tell her."
"I sha'n't do it. I make it a point never to give my receipts to
nobody."
"I know it; and, I'm sure, I don't blame you. But, in this case--just
now--I really don't see how we can refuse."
"Well, I sha'n't do it, and that 's the hull on 't."
"Oh, do, Mrs. Mudlaw, just this once. The colonel is so anxious to
secure Darling, and he will be so angry if we offend them in any way."
"But he needn't know it, need he?"
"He certainly will find it out by some means. I know it is real
vexatious to you, and I wouldn't ask it if election was over; but now
'tis very important--it may save us all trouble. The colonel is so
decided, you know."
These last words of Mrs. Philpot had an effect upon Mudlaw which no
wish or entreaty of that lady would have ever produced, for they
suggested to her selfish mind the possibility of a dismissal from her
snug birth at Colonel P.'s, where she carried it with a high hand; so
she gave in.
"Well, jest to please you and the curnel, I'll do it; but I wish
'lection was over."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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