I, who never knew a father of my own, can be a father now to all in my employment. I shall expect my new partner, I shall expect my new housekeeper, to help me in keeping this resolution. We will revive the good old times, when the head of a business, and the clerks and servants of a business, all lived together as one family. I have told my people that they shall lodge here under the same roof with me, and eat here at the same table with me.
(JOEY LADLE appears, from the cellars.)
Joey. Respecting this same boarding and lodging, young Master Wilding?
Bintrey. (to WILDING). Here is one of your new family. (Pointing to JOEY’S leathern apron and bib.) This boy’s pinafore won’t want much washing, and won’t wear out in a hurry!
Wilding. Well, Joey?
Joey. Speaking for myself, young Master Wilding, if you want to board me and lodge me, take me. I can peck as well as most men. Where I peck, ain’t so high a object with me as what I peck. And that ain’t as high a object as how much I peck.
Bintrey. You ought to have been a lawyer, Mr. Joey. Where we peck isn’t as high an object with us as what we peck, and how much we peck. Victuals in your case, and fees in ours. Human nature is the same in all professions, Mr. Wilding. I’ll take another glass of the forty-five port.
Joey. Are we all to live in the house, young Master Wilding? The two other cellarmen, the three porters, the two ’prentices, and the odd men?
Wilding. Yes, Joey. I hope we shall all be an united family.
Joey. Ah! I hope they may be.
Wilding. They? Rather say we, Joey.
Joey. Don’t look to me to make “We” on it, young Master Wilding. Don’t look to me to put a lively face on anything. It’s all very well, gentlemen, for you that has been accustomed to take your wine into your systems by the convivial channel of your throttles, to put a lively face on it. But I have been accustomed to take my wine in at the pores of the skin—and, took that way, it acts depressing. It’s one thing to charge your glasses in a dining-room with a Hip—Hip—Hooray, and a Jolly Companions Everyone. And it’s another thing to be charged yourself, through the pores, in a low dark cellar and a mouldy atmosphere. I have been a cellarman my life through—and what’s the consequence? I’m as muddled and as molloncolly a man as lives. A pecking-machine, sir, is all that I am capable of proving myself, out of my cellars. But that you’re welcome to, if it’s worth your while to keep such a thing on your premises.
Bintrey. I don’t want to interrupt the flow of Mr. Joey’s philosophy. But it’s past ten o’clock—and the housekeepers will be coming to apply for the vacant place.
Wilding. Let them come, and welcome. My good friend, George Vendale, has undertaken to see them for me, and to pick out the woman whom he thinks will suit me best. (BINTREY nods, and turns to go out.) You’re not going?
Bintrey. I have an appointment in court. I’ll look in on my way back, and hear what you have done.
(Exit.)
Joey. So, you’ve been and taken young Master George Vendale partner into the old business?
Wilding. Yes, Joey. My old friend George Vendale begins, as my partner, to-day.
Joey. Don’t change the name of the Firm again, young Master Wilding. It was bad luck enough to make it Yourself and Co. Better by far have left the old name of the old Firm—Pebbleson Nephew. Good luck always stuck to Pebbleson Nephew. You should never change luck when it’s good, sir.
Enter GEORGE VENDALE, from the house.
Vendale. I have seen the housekeepers, Walter. There is only one woman in the whole collection who isn’t a Gorgon. I like her face and her manner—and she is coming here to be presented to you. Her name is Sarah Goldstraw.
Wilding. Goldstraw! Surely I have heard that name before?
Vendale. If she is an old acquaintance, so much the better (Looking towards the house.) This way, Miss Goldstraw. Here is Mr. Wilding!
Enter SALLY GOLDSTRAW.
Sally (aside). Wilding!
Joey (aside). I agree with Master George. That’s a sound woman, outside and in!
Vendale. (to WILDING). This is a busy morning with me. I am going to the Docks—then back again to the house, to speak to the gas-fitter about the new light in the dining-room. Good-bye, for the present!
(Exit through the counting-house.)
Wilding. (to SALLY). Will you step into the counting-house, if you please? (Aside.) Her face is familiar to me! Where did I see it last?
Sally (advancing a few steps, and stopping thoughtfully). Wilding!—No, no, it can’t be? Wilding’s a common name. How foolish I am!
Joey (to WILDING). Take her, young Master Wilding! You won’t find the match of Sarah Goldstraw in a hurry. (Aside, returning to the cellars.) I feel as if I had taken something new in at the pores. (Looking back at SALLY). Has that pleasant woman brought a streak of sunshine with her into this moloncolly place? And am I a-walking in it on my way back to the cellars?
(Exit into the cellars.)
Wilding. Let me show you the way into the counting-house.
Sally (rousing herself). I beg your pardon, sir.
(She goes on to the counting-house—and is about to enter the door, when she suddenly starts back with a scream, and sinks on a bench in the yard.)
Wilding. What’s the matter? what have you seen to frighten you?
Sally. Nothing!
Wilding. Nothing?
Sally. Might I ask——? there’s a portrait in the counting-house, sir——
Wilding. The portrait of my late mother. What is there in that to frighten you?
Sally (aside). His mother. The lady who spoke to me twelve years since! (Rising and addressing WILDING.) I hope you will excuse me, sir, I would rather not take up your time. I—I don’t think the place would suit me.
(Attempts to retire.)
Wilding. (stopping her). Wait a minute. There’s something wrong here—there’s something I don’t understand. Your face puzzles me; your name puzzles me—good Heavens! I have it! You were the nurse at the Foundling, when I was one of the boys there twelve years since!
Sally (aside). What am I to say to him?
Wilding. You were the woman who took pity on my poor mother. She often talked of it to me. A nurse told her my name, and pointed me out to her at dinner. You were that nurse.
Sally (sinking back on the bench). Heaven forgive me, sir, I was that nurse!
Wilding. Heaven forgive you? What do you mean? Speak out!
Sally. Oh, sir, don’t ask me to speak out! I may make you rue the day when you first let me into your house.
Wilding. You can do nothing worse than frighten me as you are frightening me now.
Sally.