The idea of giving a party of my own to my new friends, in return for
their hospitality to me, was not by any means a new one. It had been
simmering in my mind for some weeks past. Indeed, ever since I began to
be invited out, the thought that I could not return the compliment had
always been a drawback to my pleasure.
But there had always been two obstacles in the way of carrying out my
wish. The first was lack of funds, the second was Mrs Nash. On eight
shillings a week I had come to the conclusion it was out of the question
to dream of giving a party to eight persons. By the most modest
calculation I couldn't possibly do the thing decently under a shilling a
head. It was true I had my uncle's half-sovereign in my pocket still.
I might, I reflected, borrow that, and pay it back by weekly
instalments. But somehow I didn't like the idea quite, and never
brought myself to the point of carrying it into effect. Now, however,
with the sudden rise in my fortunes recorded in the last chapter, the
financial obstacle to my hospitality was quite swept away. I had only
to take the extra four shillings a week for two weeks--and the thing was
done!
So the idea no longer simmered in my mind--it boiled; and I was
determined for once in a way to astonish my friends.
But though one obstacle had vanished, the other remained. What would
Mrs Nash say? For, much as I disliked it, I was forced to face the
fact that my party, if I gave it, would have to come off in Beadle
Square. I had half thought of borrowing Flanagan's room for the
occasion, but didn't like to ask him; besides, if I did, it would have
to be half his party and half mine, which wasn't at all my idea. Then
it occurred to me, should I take lodgings for a week and give it there?
No, it would cost too much even for twelve shillings a week; and my
uncle, if he heard of it, might stop my keep at Mrs Nash's. Suppose I
hired a room at an hotel for the evening, and asked the fellows there?
It wasn't a bad idea, and would probably only cost me half a week's
wages. But the worst of it is, if you ask fellows to dine with you at
an hotel, they are sure to come expecting a grand turn out; and I
doubted my talents to provide anything grand; besides, the hotel people
would be sure to want to supply the things themselves, and ask for the
money in advance. Or if I didn't humour them they would to a certainty
turn crusty and critical, and spoil my party for me.
No, the only thing was to make the best of Beadle Square, and to that
end I determined to tackle Mrs Nash at once.
You may fancy the good woman's surprise and scorn when I propounded to
her my ambitious scheme.
"You give a party! Fiddlesticks! You'll do nothing of the sort."
"Please, Mrs Nash," pleaded I, "it will be a very quiet one, I
promise."
"And where do you expect to have it, I wonder?" said she. "In the coal-
cellar, I suppose? That's the only spot in the house that ain't
occupied."
"Oh," replied I, thinking it judicious to laugh at this facetious
suggestion, "I'd like the parlour for that evening, if you could manage
it, Mrs Nash."
"What! are you going to ask all the fellows here to your party, then?"
"Oh, no. Couldn't you let them know the parlour's engaged for that
evening?--just for once? You know I'd pay you something--"
"I dare say you would!--you'd pay anything, you would! And what are you
going to give them all to eat, eh?"
"Oh, I'll see to that," said I.
This was an unfortunate reply of mine. Mrs Nash, as it happened, was
inclined to enter into my scheme, and, had I only known it, would have
offered to take some trouble to help me. But this answer of mine
offended her sorely.
"Oh, very well," said she, loftily; "you don't want me, I can see, and
I'm just as glad."
In vain I protested, and implored her not to be vexed. I hadn't meant
it at all. I couldn't possibly do without her. I was a beast to say
what I had, and so on. The most I could get out of her was a vague
promise that I might have the room on the evening in question. As for
the entertainment, she washed her hands of the whole affair.
I was inclined to give it up. Not that I had ever imagined she would
help me; but to have her downright unfriendly at such a time would, I
knew, ruin the thing totally.
For some days she would listen to nothing at all on the subject.
"It's your look-out," she said to every appeal. "Let's see what sort of
a hand you'll make of it, my beauty."
I was in despair. I longed to issue my invitations, but till Mrs Nash
was "squared" it was out of the question to name the happy day. It was
evidently useless to argue the matter. The best thing I could do was to
let it alone, and allow her to imagine the scheme had been abandoned.
In this calculation I was correct. Some days afterwards, happening to
be in the parlour with her after breakfast, she said, "And when's your
grand party, as you call it, coming off, Mr Batchelor?"