[Illustration]
(_In which Mrs. Harris, assisted by a Carpet, is the cause of a division
between Friends._)
MRS. GAMP'S apartment wore, metaphorically speaking, a Bab-Balladish
aspect, being considerably topsy-turvey, as rooms have a habit of being
after any unusual ebullition of temper on the part of their occupants.
It was certainly not swept and garnished, although its owner was
preparing for the reception of a visitor. That visitor was BETSEY PRIG.
Mrs. GAMP'S chimney-piece was ornamented with three photographs: one of
herself, looking somewhat severe; one of her friend and bosom companion,
Mrs. PRIG, of far more amiable aspect; and one of a mysterious personage
supposed to be Mrs. HARRIS.
"There! Now, drat you, BETSEY, don't be long!" said Mrs. GAMP,
apostrophising her absent friend. "For I'm in no mood for waiting, I do
assure you. I'm easy pleased, but I must have my own way (as is always
the best and wisest), and have it directly minit, when the fancy strikes
me, else we shall part, and that not friendly, as I could wish, but
bearin' malice in our 'arts."
* * *
"BETSEY," said Mrs. GAMP, "I will now propoge a toast. My frequent
pardner, BETSEY PRIG!"
"Which, altering the name to SAIRAH GAMP, I drink," said Mrs. PRIG,
"with love and tenderness!"
"Now, SAIRAH," said Mrs. PRIG, "jining business with pleasure, as so
often we've done afore, wot is this bothersome affair about which you
wants to consult me? _Are_ you a-goin' to call me over the Carpet once
more, SAIREY?"
"Drat the Carpet!" exclaimed Mrs. GAMP, with a vehement explosiveness
whose utter unexpectedness quite disconcerted her friend.
"_Is_ it Mrs. HARRIS?" inquired Mrs. PRIG, solemnly.
"Yes, BETSY PRIG, it _is_," snapped Mrs. GAMP, angrily, "that very
person herself, and no other, which, after twenty years of trust, I
never know'd nor never expected to, which it 'urts a feeling 'art even
to name her name as henceforth shall be nameless betwixt us twain."
"Oh, shall it?" retorted Mrs. PRIG, shortly. "Why bless the woman, if
_I_'d said that, you'd ha' bitten the nose off my face, as is your
nature to, as the poick says."
"Don't you say nothink against poicks, BETSEY, and I'll say nothink
against musicians," retorted Mrs. GAMP, mysteriously.
"Oh! then it _was_ to call me over the Carpet that you sent for me so
sudden and peremptory?" rejoined Mrs. PRIG, with a smile.
"DRAT THE CARPET!!!" again ejaculated Mrs. GAMP, with astonishing
fierceness. "Wot do _you_ know about the Carpet, BETSEY?"
"Why nothink at all, my dear; nor don't want to," replied Mrs. PRIG,
with surprise.
"Oh!" retorted Mrs. GAMP, "you don't, don't you? Well, then, I _do_, and
it's time you did likewise, if pardners we are to remain who 'ave
pardners been so long."
Mrs. PRIG muttered something not quite audible, but which sounded
suspiciously like, "'Ard wuck!"
"Which share and share alike is my mortar," continued Mrs. GAMP; "that
as bin my princerple, and I've found it pay. But Injin Carpets for our
mutual 'ome, of goldiun lustre and superfluos shine, as tho' we wos
Arabian Knights, I cannot and I will not stand. It is the last stror as
camels could not forgive. No, BETSEY," added Mr. GAMP, in a violent
burst of feeling, "nor crokydiles forget!"
"Bother your camels, and your crokydiles too!" retorted Mrs. PRIG, with
indifference. "Wy, SAIREY, wot a tempest in a teapot, to be sure!"
Mrs. GAMP looked at her with amazement, incredulity, and indignation.
"Wot!" she with difficulty ejaculated. "A--tempest--in--a--Teapot!! And
does BETSEY PRIG, my pardner for so many years, call her friend a
Teapot, and decline to take up SAIREY'S righteous quarrel with a Mrs.
HARRIS?"
Then Mrs. PRIG, smiling more scornfully, and folding her arms still
tighter, uttered these memorable and tremendous words,--
"Wy, certainly she does, SAIREY GAMP; _most_ certainly she does. Wich I
don't believe there's either rhyme or reason in sech an absurd quarrel!"
After the utterance of which expressions she leaned forward, and snapped
her fingers, and then rose to put on her bonnet, as one who felt that
there was now a gulf between them which nothing could ever bridge
across.
* * * * *