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Updated: June 3, 2025
By directing me to this particular house in Nelson Square, Fate had done to me a kindness. I flatter myself we were an interesting menagerie gathered together under its leaky roof. Mrs. Peedles, our landlady, who slept in the basement with the slavey, had been an actress in Charles Keane's company at the old Princess's. There, it is true, she had played only insignificant parts.
A former tenant of my own room, of whom I strangely reminded her, had written poetry on my very table. He was now in Portland doing five years for forgery. Mrs. Peedles appeared to regard the two accomplishments as merely different expressions of the same art. Another of her young men, as she affectionately called us, had been of studious ambition.
The entire first floor was occupied by an Irishman and they never minced the matter themselves, so hardly is there need for me to do so. She was a charming little dark-eyed woman, an ex-tight-rope dancer, and always greatly offended Mrs. Peedles by claiming Miss Lucretia Barry as a sister artiste. "Of course I don't know how it may be now," would reply Mrs.
"They will if I give them to you," answered Mrs. Peedles. "You put 'em in your box. And never mind the bit of rent," added Mrs. Peedles; "you can pay me that later on." I kissed the kind old soul good-bye and took her gift with me to my new lodgings in Camden Town.
Peedles, speaking without rising, from personal observation in the daytime which she hoped would not be deemed a liberty; literature, even in manuscript, being, so to speak, public property found herself in a position to confirm all that Mr. Jarman had remarked. Speaking as one not entirely without authority on the subject of literature and the drama, Mrs.
She entered with a bundle of old manuscripts under her arm, torn and tumbled booklets of various shapes and sizes. These she plumped down upon the rickety table, and herself upon the nearest chair. "Put them in your box, my dear," said Mrs. Peedles. "They'll come in useful to you later on." I glanced at the bundle.
"You don't think I'm acting dishonourably, do you, Mrs. Peedles?" I asked. "My dear," replied Mrs. Peedles, "it's a difficult world to live in leastways, that's been my experience of it." I had just completed my packing it had not taken me long when I heard upon the stairs the heavy panting that always announced to me the up-coming of Mrs. Peedles.
Your friends would be an acquisition to any society." "But are they quite good form?" I hinted. "I'll tell you what we will do," replied Dan. "We'll forget that Mrs. Peedles keeps a lodging-house in Blackfriars. We will speak of her as our friend, 'that dear, quaint old creature, Lady P. A title that is an oddity, whose costume always suggests the wardrobe of a provincial actress!
Peedles wiped away her tears and smiled upon the Signora; upon which the Signora commenced to cry again. Happily, timely diversion was made at this point by the bursting into the room of Jarman, who upon perceiving Mrs. Peedles, at once gave vent to a hoot, supposed to be expressive of Scottish joy, and without a moment's hesitation commenced to dance a reel.
Peedles, whose object appeared to be an impartial statement of the whole case. "There may have been incompatability of temperament, as they say. Myself, I have always been of a playful disposition frivolous, some might call me." The Signora protested; the O'Kelly declined to listen to such aspersion on her character even from Mrs. Peedles herself. Mrs.
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