a quarter before midnight, in the presence of two
chambermaids, in a room hung with drab moreen. Sir George's servant had
brought her back; he was the rogue in the play; it was Lady Harriet
Wentworth and footman Sturgeon over again. She had come back in a
Flemish hat and a white cloth Joseph with black facings; she had come
back in her night-rail; she had come back in a tabby gauze, with a lace
head and lappets. Nor were there wanting other rumours, of an
after-dinner Wilkes-and-Lord-Sandwich flavour, which we refrain from
detailing; but which the Castle Inn, after the mode of the eighteenth
century, discussed with freedom in a mixed company.

Of all these reports and the excitement which they created in an
assemblage weary of waiting on the great man's recovery and in straits
for entertainment, the attorney knew nothing until he set forth to keep
the appointment in Lord Chatham's apartments; which, long the object of
desire, now set his teeth on edge. Nor need he have learned much of them
then; for he had only to cross the lobby of the east wing, and was in
view of the hall barely three seconds. But, unluckily, Lady Dunborough,
cackling shrewishly with a kindred dowager, caught sight of him as he
passed; and in a trice her old limbs bore her in pursuit. Mr. Fishwick
heard his name called, had the weakness to turn, and too late found that
he had fallen into the clutches of his ancient enemy.

The absence of her son's name from the current rumours had relieved the
Viscountess of her worst fears, and left her free to enjoy herself.
Seeing his dismay, 'La, man! I am not going to eat you!' she cried; for
the lawyer, nervous and profoundly dispirited, really shrank before her.
'So you have brought back your fine madam, I hear? And made an honest
woman of her!'

Mr. Fishwick glared at her, but did not answer.

'I knew what would come of pushing out of your place, my lad!' she
continued, nodding complacently. 'It wasn't likely she'd behave herself.
When the master is away the man will play, and the maid too. I mind me
perfectly of the groom. A saucy fellow and a match for her; 'tis to be
hoped he'll beat some sense into her. Was she tied up at Calne?'

'No!' Mr. Fishwick blurted, wincing under her words; which hurt him a
hundred times more sharply than if the girl had been what he had thought
her. Then he might have laughed at the sneer and the spite that dictated
it. Now--something like this all the world would say.

Th