draw. "She has the letters in her stays," thought Madame Bernstein.
They had bidden each other an amicable good-night on the stairs.

Mrs. Betty had a scolding the next morning, when she came to wait on
her mistress, from the closet adjoining Lady Maria's apartment, in which
Betty lay. She owned, with contrition, her partiality for rum-punch,
which Mr. Gumbo had the knack of brewing most delicate. She took her
scolding with meekness, and, having performed her usual duties about her
lady's person, retired.

Now Betty was one of the Castlewood girls who had been so fascinated by
Gumbo, and was a very good-looking, blue-eyed lass, upon whom Mr.
Case, Madame Bernstein's confidential man, had also cast the eyes
of affection. Hence, between Messrs. Gumbo and Case, there had been
jealousies and even quarrels; which had caused Gumbo, who was of a
peaceful disposition, to be rather shy of the Baroness's gentlemen, the
chief of whom vowed he would break the bones, or have the life of Gumbo,
if he persisted in his attentions to Mrs. Betty.

But on the night of the rum-punch, though Mr. Case found Gumbo and Mrs.
Betty whispering in the doorway, in the cool breeze, and Gumbo would
have turned pale with fear had he been able so to do, no one could be
more gracious than Mr. Case. It was he who proposed the bowl of punch,
which was brewed and drunk in Mrs. Betty's room, and which Gumbo
concocted with exquisite skill. He complimented Gumbo on his music.
Though a sober man ordinarily, he insisted upon more and more drinking,
until poor Mrs. Betty was reduced to the state which occasioned her
ladyship's just censure.

As for Mr. Case himself, who lay out of the house, he was so ill with
the punch, that he kept his bed the whole of the next day, and did
not get strength to make his appearance, and wait on his ladies, until
supper-time; when his mistress good-naturedly rebuked him, saying that
it was not often he sinned in that way.

"Why, Case, I could have made oath it was you I saw on horseback this
morning galloping on the London road," said Mr. Warrington, who was
supping with his relatives.

"Me! law bless you, sir! I was a-bed, and I thought my head would come
off with the aching. I ate a bit at six o'clock, and drunk a deal of
small beer, and I am almost my own man again now. But that Gumbo, saving
your honour's presence, I won't taste none of his punch again." And the
honest major-domo went on with his duties among the bottle