She ought to have told him so, perhaps.
Explanations were not approved of by this well-intended despot, and however beneficial her resolves might turn out for all parties, it was natural that in the interim the children of her rule should revolt, and Dandy, picturing his Sally flaunting on the arm of some accursed low marine, haply, kicked against Mrs.Mel's sovereignty, though all that he did was to shoot out his fist from time to time, and grunt through his set teeth: 'Iron!' to express the character of her awful rule.
Mrs.Mel alighted at the Dolphin, the landlady of which was a Mrs.
Hawkshaw, a rival of Mrs.Sockley of the Green Dragon.

She was welcomed by Mrs.Hawkshaw with considerable respect.

The great Mel had sometimes slept at the Dolphin.
'Ah, that black!' she sighed, indicating Mrs.Mel's dress and the story it told.
'I can't give you his room, my dear Mrs.Harrington, wishing I could! I'm sorry to say it's occupied, for all I ought to be glad, I dare say, for he's an old gentleman who does you a good turn, if you study him.
But there! I'd rather have had poor dear Mr.Harrington in my best bed than old or young--Princes or nobodies, I would--he was that grand and pleasant.' Mrs.Mel had her tea in Mrs.Hawkshaw's parlour, and was entertained about her husband up to the hour of supper, when a short step and a querulous voice were heard in the passage, and an old gentleman appeared before them.
'Who's to carry up my trunk, ma'am?
No man here ?' Mrs.Hawkshaw bustled out and tried to lay her hand on a man.

Failing to find the growth spontaneous, she returned and begged the old gentleman to wait a few moments and the trunk would be sent up.
'Parcel o' women!' was his reply.

'Regularly bedevilled.