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Updated: June 23, 2025
Within-doors, in the intervals of household duty, Mrs Bowldler measured, drew, and cut out a number of capital letters in white linen, to be formed into a motto and sewn upon red Turkey twill, while Palmerston industriously constructed and wired gross upon gross of paper roses an art in which he had been instructed by Fancy, who had read all about it in a weekly newspaper, 'The Cosy Hearth. The two friends talked little to one another during those busy June days.
"Very well, then." Mrs Bowldler was visibly relieved. She heaved a sigh and fired a parting shot. "I can only trust," she said, "if Palmerston waits as he'll catch up with no low tricks. Boys are so receptive!"
"Well! the owdacious!" exclaimed Mrs Bowldler in a kind of hysterical titter, snatching at her bodice somewhere over the region of her heart. Fancy paid no heed to her. "Only we must make a runaway match of it," she went on, "for there's no time to lose, it seems." For answer Palmerston burst into a flood of tears. "There now!" Mrs Bowldler of a sudden became serious.
"This is Mrs Bowldler," Fancy nodded towards the middle-aged woman. "Your servant, sirs," Mrs Bowldler curtseyed again and coughed. "With a W if you don't object." "She's quite a good plain cook; and well connected, though reduced in circumstances. Mr Rogers, sir, is often glad to employ her at a pinch." "At a what?" asked Captain Tobias, breathing hard.
"Since he heard yesterday " "Me bein' single-handed, with Palmerston on his back, so to speak, I hev' not taken particular observation," said Mrs Bowldler. "Last night, as I removed the cloth after supper, he passed the remark that it had been a very tirin' day, that this was sad news about Mr Rogers, but we'd hope for the best, and when I mentioned scrambled eggs for breakfast, he left it to me.
"You're welcome as blossom, my dear," said Mrs Bowldler to Fancy Tabb, who had dropped in, as she put it, for a look around. The child was allowed a couple of hours off duty in the afternoon to take a walk and blow away the cobwebs of the Chandler's gloomy house: her poor shop-drudge of a father having found courage to wring this concession from Mr Rogers for her health's sake.
Fancy Tabb coming up the roadway and pausing while she conned the structure, shading her eyes against the sun-rays that slanted over it, beheld Mrs Bowldler and Palmerston issue from the doorway in solemn procession, bearing between them a length of Turkey twill.
What are they writing, do you suppose?" "It don't become me to guess," answered Mrs Bowldler. "Belike they're making their wills and leaving one another the whole of their property." "I hope not. They'd make a dreadful mess of it without a lawyer to help." "They're making a dreadful mess on the tablecloth or, as I should say, on the tablecloths, respectively, as the case may be. Blots.
That, sir, is the very question I put to Captain Hunken; and with all respect, sir, 'dammit' doesn't meet the case." "Perhaps not," agreed Captain Cai, but not with entire conviction. "It was all the answer Captain Hunken gave me, sir. 'Dammit, he says, 'Mrs Bowldler, go and lay supper as I tell you, and we'll talk later." "Supper? Where?"
"You're welcome as blossom, but you must work for your welcome. Come and help me to cut bread-and-butter. . . . Palmerston! You bring the kettle and pour a little water into the teapots, just to get 'em heated." "Company, is it?" asked Fancy, laying aside her cloak. "Company?" Mrs Bowldler sniffed. "We've had enough of company to last us this side of the grave.
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