The Probation of James Wrench
"There are two sorts of men as gets hen-pecked," remarked Henry--I forgothow the subject had originated, but we had been discussing the merits ofHenry VIII., considered as a father and a husband,--"the sort as likes itand the sort as don't, and I wouldn't be too cocksure that the sort asdoes isn't on the whole in the majority."You see," continued Henry argumentatively, "it gives, as it were, a kindof interest to life which nowadays, with everything going smoothly, andno chance of a row anywhere except in your own house, is apt to become abit monotonous. There was a chap I got to know pretty well one winterwhen I was working in Dresden at the Europaischer Hof: a quiet, meeklittle man he was, a journeyman butcher by trade; and his wife was adressmaker, a Schneiderin, as they call them over there, and ran a fairlybig business in the Praguer Strasse. I've always been told that Germanhusbands are the worst going, treating their wives like slaves, or, atthe best, as mere upper servants. But my experience is that human naturedon't alter so much according to distance from London as we fancy itdoes, and that husbands have their troubles same as wives all the worldover. Anyhow, I've come across a German husband or two as didn't carryabout with him any sign of the slave driver such as you might notice, atall events not in his own house; and I know for a fact that MeisterAnton, which was the name of the chap I'm telling you about, couldn'thave been much worse off, not even if he'd been an Englishman born andbred. There were no children to occupy her mind, so she just devotedherself to him and the work-girls, and made things hum, as they say inAmerica, for all of them. As for the girls, they got away at six in theevening, and not many of them stopped more than the first month. But theold man, not being able to give notice, had to put up with an average ofeighteen hours a day of it. And even when, as was sometimes the case, hemanaged to get away for an hour or two in the evening for a quiet talkwith a few of us over a glass of beer, he could never be quite happy,thinking of what was accumulating for him at home. Of course everybodyas knew him knew of his troubles--for a scolding wife ain't the sort ofthing as can be hid under a bushel,--and was sorry for him, he being asamiable and good-tempered a fellow as ever lived, and most of us spentour time with him advising him for his good. Some of the more ardentwould give him recipes for managing her, but they, being generallyspeaking bachelors, their suggestions lacked practicability, as you mightsay. One man bored his life out persuading him to try a bucket of coldwater. He was one of those cold-water enthusiasts, this fellow; took ithimself for everything, and always went to a hydropathic establishmentfor his holidays. Rumour had it that Meister Anton really did try thisexperiment on one unfortunate occasion--worried into it, I suppose, bythe other chap's persistency. Anyhow, we didn't see him again for aweek, he being confined to his bed with a chill on the liver. And thenext suggestion made to him he rejected quite huffily, explaining that hehad no intention of putting any fresh ideas into his wife's head."She wasn't a bad woman, mind you--merely given to fits of temper. Attimes she could be quite pleasant: but when she wasn't life with her musthave been exciting. He had stood it for about seven years; and then oneday, without a word of warning to anyone, he went away and left her. Asshe was quite able to keep herself, this seemed to be the bestarrangement possible, and everybody wondered why he had never thought ofit before, I did not see him again for nine months, until I ran againsthim by pure chance on the Koln platform, where I was waiting for a trainto Paris. He told me they had made up all their differences bycorrespondence, and that he was then on his way back to her. He seemedquite cheerful and expectant."'Do you think she's really reformed?' I says. 'Do you think nine monthsis long enough to have taught her a lesson?' I didn't want to damp him,but personally I have never known but one case of a woman being cured ofnagging, and that being brought about by a fall from a third-storywindow, resulting in what the doctors called permanent paralysis of thevocal organs, can hardly be taken as a precedent."'No,' he answers, 'nor nine years. But it's been long enough to teachme a lesson.'"'You know me,' he goes on. 'I ain't a quarrelsome sort of chap. Ifnobody says a word to me, I never says a word to anybody; and it's beenlike that ever since I left her, day in and day out, all just the same.Up in the morning, do your bit of work, drink your glass of beer, and tobed in the evening; nothing to excite you, nothing to rouse you. Why,it's a mere animal existence.'"He was a rum sort of chap, always thought things out from his own pointof view as it were.""Yes, a curious case," I remarked to Henry; "not the sort of story to putabout, however. It might give women the idea that nagging is attractive,and encourage them to try it upon husbands who do not care for that kindof excitement.""Not much fear of that," replied Henry. "The nagging woman is born, asthey say, not made; and she'll nag like the roses bloom, not because shewants to, but because she can't help it. And a woman to whom it don'tcome natural will never be any real good at it, try as she may. And asfor the men, why we'll just go on selecting wives according to the oldrule, so that you never know what you've got till it's too late for youto do anything but make the best or the worst of it, according as yourfancy takes you."There was a fellow," continued Henry, "as used to work with me a goodmany years ago now at a small hotel in the City. He was a waiter, likemyself--not a bad sort of chap, though a bit of a toff in his off-hours.He'd been engaged for some two or three years to one of the chambermaids.A pretty, gentle-looking little thing she was, with big childish eyes,and a voice like the pouring out of water. They are strange things,women; one can never tell what they are made of from the taste of them.And while I was there, it having been a good season for both of them,they thought they'd risk it and get married. They did the sensiblething, he coming back to his work after the week's holiday, and she tohers; the only difference being that they took a couple of rooms of theirown in Middleton Row, from where in summer-time you can catch the glimpseof a green tree or two, and slept out."The first few months they were as happy as a couple in a play, shethinking almost as much of him as he thought of himself, which must havebeen a comfort to both of them, and he as proud of her as if he made herhimself. And then some fifteenth cousin or so of his, a man he had neverheard of before, died in New Zealand and left him a fortune."That was the beginning of his troubles, and hers too. I don't say itwas enough to buy a peerage, but to a man accustomed to dream of half-crown tips it seemed an enormous fortune. Anyhow, it was sufficient toturn his head and give him ideas above his station. His first move, ofcourse, was to chuck his berth and set fire to his dress suit, which,being tolerably greasy, burned well. Had he stopped there nobody couldhave blamed him. I've often thought myself that I would willingly giveten years of my life, provided anybody wanted them, which I don't see howthey should, to put my own behind the fire. But he didn't. He took ahouse in a mews, with the front door in a street off Grosvenor Square,furnished it like a second-class German restaurant, dressed himself likea bookmaker, and fancied that with the help of a few shady City chaps anda broken-down swell or two he had gathered round him, he was fairly onthe road to Park Lane and the House of Lords."And the only thing that struck him as being at all in his way was hiswife. In her cap and apron, or her Sunday print she had always looked asdainty and fetching a little piece of goods as a man could wish to beseen out with. Dressed according to the advice of his new-found friends,of course she looked like nothing else so much as a barn-yard chicken inturkey-cock's feathers. He was shocked to find that her size in gloveswas seven-and-a-quarter, and in boots something over four, and that sortof thing naturally irritates a woman more even than finding fault withher immortal soul. I guess for about a year he made her life pretty wella burden for her, trying to bring her up to the standard of the Saturday-to-Monday-at-Brighton set with which he had surrounded himself, or which,to speak more correctly, had got round him. She'd a precious sight moregumption than he had ever possessed, and if he had listened to herinstead of insisting upon her listening to him it would have been betterfor him. But there are some men who think that if you have a taste forchampagne and the ballet that proves you are intended by nature for anob, and he was one of them; and any common-sense suggestion of hers onlyconvinced him of her natural unfitness for an exalted station."He grumbled at her accent, which, seeing that his own was acquired inLime-house and finished off in the Minories, was just the sort of thing afool would do. And he insisted on her reading all the society novels asthey came out--you know the sort I mean,--where everybody snaps everybodyelse's head off, and all the proverbs are upside down; people leave themabout the hotels when they've done with them, and one gets into the habitof dipping into them when one's nothing better to do. His hope was thatshe might, with pains, get to talk like these books. That was his ideal."She did her best, but of course the more she got away from herself themore absurd she became; and the rubbish and worse that he had about himwould ridicule her more or less openly. And he, instead of kicking themout into the mews--which could have been done easily without GrosvenorSquare knowing anything about it, and thereby having its high-classfeelings hurt--he would blame her when they had all gone, just as if itwas her fault that she was the daughter of a respectable bootmaker in theMile End Road instead of something more likely than not turned out of thethird row of the ballet because it couldn't dance, and didn't want tolearn."He played a bit in the City, and won at first, and that swelled his headworse than ever. It also brought him a good deal of sympathy from anItalian Countess, the sort you find at Homburg, and that generallyspeaking is a widow. Her chief sorrow was for society--that in him waslosing an ornament. She explained to him how an accomplished andexperienced woman could help a man to gain admittance into the tiptopcircles, which, according to her, were just thirsting for him. As awaiter, he had his share of brains, and it's a business that requiresmore insight than perhaps you'd fancy, if you don't want to waste yourtime on a rabbit-skin coat and a paste ring, and give the burnt sole tothe real gent. But in the hands of this swell mob he was, of course,just the young man from the country; and the end of it was that he playedthe game down pretty low."She--not the Countess, I shouldn't like you to have that idea, but hiswife--came to be pretty friendly with my missus later on, and that's howI got to know the details. He comes to her one day looking prettysheepish-like, as one can well believe, and maybe he'd been drinking abit to give himself courage."'We ain't been getting along too well together of late, have we, Susan?'says he."'We ain't seen much of one another,' she answers; 'but I agree with you,we don't seem to enjoy it much when we do.'"'It ain't your fault,' says he."'I'm glad you think that,' she answers; 'it shows me you ain't quite asfoolish as I was beginning to think you.'"'Of course, I didn't know when I married you,' he goes on, 'as I wasgoing to come into this money.'"'No, nor I either,' says she, 'or you bet it wouldn't have happened.'"'It seems to have been a bit of a mistake,' says he, 'as things haveturned out.'"'It would have been a mistake, and more than a bit of a one in anycase,' answers she."'I'm glad you agree with me,' says he; 'there'll be no need to quarrel.'"'I've always tried to agree with you,' says she. 'We've neverquarrelled yet, and that ought to be sufficient proof to you that wenever shall.'"'It's a mistake that can be rectified,' says he, 'if you are sensible,and that without any harm to anyone.'"'Oh!' says she, 'it must be a new sort of mistake, that kind.'"'We're not fitted for one another,' says he."'Out with it,' says she. 'Don't you be afraid of my feelings; they arewell under control, as I think I can fairly say by this time.'"'With a man in your own station of life,' says he, 'you'd be happier.'"'There's many a man I might have been happier with,' replies she. 'Thatain't the thing to be discussed, seeing as I've got you.'"'You might get rid of me,' says he."'You mean you might get rid of me,' she answers."'It comes to the same thing,' he says."'No, it don't,' she replies, 'nor anything like it. I shouldn't havegot rid of you for my pleasure, and I'm not going to do it for yours. Youcan live like a decent man, and I'll go on putting up with you; or youcan live like a fool, and I shan't stand in your way. But you can't doboth, and I'm not going to help you try.'"Well, he argued with her, and he tried the coaxing dodge, and he triedthe bullying dodge, but it didn't work, neither of it."'I've done my duty by you,' says she, 'so far as I've been able, andthat I'll go on doing or not, just as you please; but I don't do more.'"'We can't go on living like this,' says he, 'and it isn't fair to ask meto. You're hammering my prospects.'"'I don't want to do that,' says she. 'You take your proper position insociety, whatever that may be, and I'll take mine. I'll be glad enoughto get back to it, you may rest assured.'"'What do you mean?' says he."'It's simple enough,' she answers. 'I was earning my living before Imarried you, and I can earn it again. You go your way, I go mine.'"It didn't satisfy him; but there was nothing else to be done, and therewas no moving her now in any other direction whatever, even had he wantedto. He offered her anything in the way of money--he wasn't a meanchap,--but she wouldn't touch a penny. She had kept her old clothes--I'mnot sure that some idea of needing them hadn't always been in herhead,--applied for a place under her former manager, who was then bossinga hotel in Kensington, and got it. And there was an end of high life sofar as she was concerned."As for him, he went the usual way. It always seems to me as if men andwomen were just like water; sooner or later they get back to the levelfrom which they started--that is, of course, generally speaking. Hereand there a drop clings where it climbs; but, taking them on the whole,pumping-up is a slow business. Lord! I have seen them, many of them,jolly clever they've thought themselves, with their diamond rings and bigcigars. 'Wait a bit,' I've always said to myself, 'there'll come a daywhen you'll walk in and be glad enough of your chop and potatoes againwith your half-pint of bitter.' And nine cases out of ten I've beenright. James Wrench followed the course of the majority, only a littlemore so: tried to do others a precious sight sharper than himself, andgot done; tried a dozen times to scramble up again, each time coming downheavier than before, till there wasn't another spring left in him, andhis only ambition victuals. Then, of course, he thought of his wife--it'sa wonderful domesticator, ill luck--and wondered what she was doing."Fortunately for him, she'd been doing well. Her father died and lefther a bit, just a couple of hundred or so, and with this and her ownsavings she started with a small inn in a growing town, and had sold outagain three years later at four times what she had paid for it. She haddone even better than that for herself. She had developed a talent forcooking--that was a settled income in itself,--and at this time wasrunning a small hotel in Brighton, and making it pay to a tune that wouldhave made the shareholders of some of its bigger rivals a bit enviouscould they have known."He came to me, having found out, I don't know how--necessity smartensthe wits, I suppose,--that my missis still kept up a sort of friendshipwith her, and begged me to try and arrange a meeting between them, whichI did, though I told him frankly that from what I knew his welcomewouldn't be much more enthusiastic than what he'd any right to expect.But he was always of a sanguine disposition; and borrowing his fare andan old greatcoat of mine, he started off, evidently thinking that all histroubles were over."But they weren't exactly. The Married Women's Property Act had alteredthings a bit, and Master James found himself greeted without anysuggestion of tenderness by a business-like woman of thirty-six orthereabouts, and told to wait in the room behind the bar till she couldfind time to talk to him."She kept him waiting there for three-quarters of an hour, justsufficient time to take the side out of him; and then she walks in andcloses the door behind her."'I'd say you hadn't changed hardly a day, Susan,' says he, 'if it wasn'tthat you'd grown handsomer than ever.'"I guess he'd been turning that over in his mind during thethree-quarters of an hour. It was his fancy that he knew a bit aboutwomen."'My name's Mrs. Wrench,' says she; 'and if you take your hat off andstand up while I'm talking to you it will be more what I'm accustomedto.'"Well, that staggered him a bit; but there didn't seem anything else tobe done, so he just made as if he thought it funny, though I doubt if atthe time he saw the full humour of it."'And now, what do you want?" says she, seating herself in front of herdesk, and leaving him standing, first on one leg and then on the other,twiddling his hat in his hands."'I've been a bad husband to you, Susan,' begins he."'I could have told you that,' she answers. 'What I asked you was whatyou wanted.'"'I want for us to let bygones be bygones,' says he."'That's quite my own idea,' says she, 'and if you don't allude to thepast, I shan't.'"'You're an angel, Susan,' says he."'I've told you once,' answers she, 'that my name's Mrs. Wrench. I'mSusan to my friends, not to every broken-down tramp looking for a job.'"'Ain't I your husband?' says he, trying a bit of dignity."She got up and took a glance through the glass-door to see that nobodywas there to overhear her."'For the first and last time,' says she, 'let you and me understand oneanother. I've been eleven years without a husband, and I've got used toit. I don't feel now as I want one of any kind, and if I did it wouldn'tbe your sort. Eleven years ago I wasn't good enough for you, and nowyou're not good enough for me.'"'I want to reform,' says he."'I want to see you do it,' says she."'Give me a chance,' says he."'I'm going to,' says she; 'but it's going to be my experiment this time,not yours. Eleven years ago I didn't give you satisfaction, so youturned me out of doors.'"'You went, Susan,' says he; 'you know it was your own idea.'"'Don't you remind me too much of the circumstances,' replies she,turning on him with a look in her eyes that was probably new to him, 'Iwent because there wasn't room for two of us; you know that. The otherkind suited you better. Now I'm going to see whether you suit me,' andshe sits herself again in her landlady's chair."'In what way?' says he."'In the way of earning your living,' says she, 'and starting on the roadto becoming a decent member of society.'"He stood for a while cogitating."'Don't you think,' says he at last, 'as I could manage this hotel foryou?'"'Thanks,' says she; 'I'm doing that myself.'"'What about looking to the financial side of things,' says he, 'andkeeping the accounts? It's hardly your work.'"'Nor yours either,' answers she drily, 'judging by the way you've beenkeeping your own.'"'You wouldn't like me to be head-waiter, I suppose?' says he. 'It wouldbe a bit of a come-down.'"'You're thinking of the hotel, I suppose,' says she. 'Perhaps you areright. My customers are mostly an old-fashioned class; it's probableenough they might not like you. You had better suggest something else.'"'I could hardly be an under-waiter,' says he."'Perhaps not,' says she; 'your manners strike me as a bit too familiarfor that.'"Then he thought he'd try sarcasm."'Perhaps you'd fancy my being the boots,' says he."'That's more reasonable,' says she. 'You couldn't do much harm there,and I could keep an eye on you.'"'You really mean that?' says he, starting to put on his dignity."But she cut him short by ringing the bell."'If you think you can do better for yourself,' she says, 'there's an endof it. By a curious coincidence the place is just now vacant. I'll keepit open for you till to-morrow night; you can turn it over in your mind.'And one of the page boys coming in she just says 'Good-morning,' and theinterview was at an end."Well, he turned it over, and he took the job. He thought she'd relentafter the first week or two, but she didn't. He just kept that place forover fifteen months, and learnt the business. In the house he was Jamesthe boots, and she Mrs. Wrench the landlady, and she saw to it that hedidn't forget it. He had his wages and he made his tips, and the foodwas plentiful; but I take it he worked harder during that time than he'dever worked before in his life, and found that a landlady is just twiceas difficult to please as the strictest landlord it can be a man'smisfortune to get under, and that Mrs. Wrench was no exception to therule."At the end of the fifteen months she sends for him into the office. Hedidn't want telling by this time; he just stood with his hat in his handand waited respectful like."'James,' says she, after she had finished what she was doing, 'I find Ishall want another waiter for the coffee-room this season. Would youcare to try the place?'"'Thank you, Mrs. Wrench,' he answers; 'it's more what I've been used to,and I think I'll be able to give satisfaction.'"'There's no wages attached, as I suppose you know,' continues she; 'butthe second floor goes with it, and if you know your business you ought tomake from twenty-five to thirty shillings a week.'"Thank you, Mrs. Wrench; that'll suit me very well,' replies he; and itwas settled."He did better as a waiter; he'd got it in his blood, as you might say;and so after a time he worked up to be head-waiter. Now and then, ofcourse, it came about that he found himself waiting on the very folksthat he'd been chums with in his classy days, and that must have been abit rough on him. But he'd taken in a good deal of sense since then; andwhen one of the old sort, all rings and shirt-front, dining there oneSunday evening, started chaffing him, Jimmy just shut him up with aquiet: 'Yes, I guess we were both a bit out of our place in those days.The difference between us now is that I have got back to mine,' whichcost him his tip, but must nave been a satisfaction to him."Altogether he worked in that hotel for some three and a half years, andthen Mrs. Wrench sends for him again into the office."'Sit down, James,' says she."'Thank you, Mrs. Wrench,' says James, and sat."'I'm thinking of giving up this hotel, James,' says she, 'and takinganother near Dover, a quiet place with just such a clientele as I shalllike. Do you care to come with me?'"'Thank you,' says he, 'but I'm thinking, Mrs. Wrench, of making a changemyself.'"'Oh,' says she, 'I'm sorry to hear that, James. I thought we'd beengetting on very well together.'"'I've tried to do my best, Mrs. Wrench,' says he, 'and I hope as I'vegiven satisfaction.'"'I've nothing to complain of, James,' says she."'I thank you for saying it,' says he, 'and I thank you for theopportunity you gave me when I wanted it. It's been the making of me.'"She didn't answer for about a minute. Then says she: 'You've beenmeeting some of your old friends, James, I'm afraid, and they've beenpersuading you to go back into the City.'"'No, Mrs. Wrench,' says he; 'no more City for me, and no moreneighbourhood of Grosvenor Square, unless it be in the way of business;and that couldn't be, of course, for a good long while to come.'"'What do you mean by business?' asks she."'The hotel business,' replies he. 'I believe I know the bearings bynow. I've saved a bit, thanks to you, Mrs. Wrench, and a bit's come infrom the wreck that I never hoped for.'"'Enough to start you?' asks she."'Not quite enough for that,' answers he. 'My idea is a smallpartnership.'"'How much is it altogether?' says she, 'if it's not an impertinentquestion.'"'Not at all,' answers he. 'It tots up to 900 pounds about.'"She turns back to her desk and goes on with her writing."'Dover wouldn't suit you, I suppose?' says she without looking round."'Dover's all right,' says he, 'if the business is a good one.'"'It can be worked up into one of the best things going,' says she, 'andI'm getting it dirt cheap. You can have a third share for a thousandpounds, that's just what it's costing, and owe me the other hundred.""'And what position do I take?' says he."'If you come in on those terms,' says she, 'then, of course, it's apartnership.'"He rose and came over to her. 'Life isn't all business, Susan,' sayshe."'I've found it so mostly,' says she."'Fourteen years ago,' says he, 'I made the mistake; now you're makingit.'"'What mistake am I making?' says she."'That man's the only thing as can't learn a lesson,' says he."'Oh,' says she, 'and what's the lesson that you've learnt?'"'That I never get on without you, Susan,' says he."'Well,' says she, 'you suggested a partnership, and I agreed to it. Whatmore do you want?'"'I want to know the name of the firm,' says he."'Mr. and Mrs. Wrench,' says she, turning round to him and holding outher hand. 'How will that suit you?'"'That'll do me all right,' answers he. 'And I'll try and givesatisfaction,' adds he."'I believe you,' says she."And in that way they made a fresh start, as it were."
zpostcode
Recruit
weather
mreligion
Yellowpages
sport
constellation
shopping
name
game
directory
literature
Word
tour
furnish
Lottery
tftnews
lyrics
News
digital
car
dir
Edu
Finance
