callers and appointments in the dining-room become more numerous every day, and every gentleman seems to have pen and ink in his pocket, and to have some occasion to use it. At last it is said that there is going to be a Sale; and then more people arrive, with pen and ink in their pockets, commanding a detachment of men with carpet caps, who immediately begin to pull up the carpets, and knock the furniture about, and to print off thousands of impressions of their shoes upon the hall and staircase.
The council downstairs are in full conclave all this time, and, having nothing to do, perform perfect feats of eating. At length, they are one day summoned in a body to Mrs. Pipchin’s room, and thus addressed by the fair Peruvian:
"Your master’s in difficulties," says Mrs. Pipchin, tartly. "You know that, I suppose?"
Mr. Towlinson, as spokesman, admits a general knowledge of the fact.
"And you ’re all on the look-out for yourselves, I warrant you," says Mrs. Pipchin, shaking her head at them.
A shrill voice from the rear exclaims, "No more than yourself!"
"That’s your opinion, Mrs. Impudence, is it?" says the ireful Pipchin, looking with a fiery eye over the intermediate heads.
"Yes, Mrs. Pipchin, it is," replies Cook, advancing. "And what then, pray?"
"Why, then you may go as soon as you like," says Mrs. Pipchin. "The sooner the better; and I hope I shall never see your face again."
With this the doughty Pipchin produces a canvass bag; and tells her wages out to that day, and a month beyond it; and clutches the money tight, until a receipt for the same is duly signed, to the last up-stroke; when she grudgingly lets it go. This form of proceeding Mrs. Pipchin repeats with every member of the household, until all are paid.
"Now those that choose, can go about their business," says Mrs. Pipchin, "and those that choose can stay here on board wages for a week or so, and make themselves useful. Except," says the inflammable Pipchin, "that slut of a cook, who ’ll go immediately."
"That," says Cook, "she certainly will! I wish you good-day, Mrs. Pipchin, and sincerely wish I could compliment you on the sweetness of your appearance!"
"Get along with you," says Mrs. Pipchin, stamping her foot.
Cook sails off with an air of beneficent dignity, highly exasperating to Mrs. Pipchin, and is shortly joined below stairs by the rest of the confederation.
Mr. Towlinson then says that, in the first place, he would beg to propose a little snack of something to eat; and over that snack would desire to offer a suggestion which he thinks will meet the position in which they find themselves. The refreshment being produced, and very heartily partaken of, Mr. Towlinson’s suggestion is, in effect, that Cook is going, and that if we are not true to ourselves, nobody will be true to us. That they have lived in that house a long time, and exerted themselves very much to be sociable together. (At this, Cook says, with emotion, "Hear, hear!" and Mrs. Perch, who is there again, and full to the throat, sheds tears.) And that he thinks, at the present time, the feeling ought to be "Go one, go all!" The housemaid is much affected by this generous sentiment, and warmly
