wont
to declare that she never forgot those who did come, or those who did
not. And even they who desired to describe her as little,--for even
Lady Monk had enemies,--would hint that though she never came out
of the room, she would rise from her chair and make a step towards
the door whenever any name very high in fashionable life greeted
her ears. So that a mighty Cabinet Minister, or a duchess in great
repute, or any special wonder of the season, could not fail of
entering her precincts and being seen there for a few moments. It
would, of course, happen that the doorway of her chamber would become
blocked; but there were precautions taken to avoid this inconvenience
as far as possible, and one man in livery was employed to go
backwards and forwards between his mistress and the outer world, so
as to keep the thread of a passage open.

But though Lady Monk was in this way enabled to rest herself during
her labours, there was much in her night's work which was not
altogether exhilarating. Ladies would come into her small room and
sit there by the hour, with whom she had not the slightest wish
to hold conversation. The Duchess of St Bungay would always be
there,--so that there was a special seat in one corner of the room
which was called the Duchess' stool. "I shouldn't care a straw about
her," Lady Monk had been heard to complain, "if she would talk
to anybody. But nobody will talk to her, and then she listens to
everything."

There had been another word or two between Burgo Fitzgerald and his
aunt before the evening came, a word or two in the speaking of which
she had found some difficulty. She was prepared with the money,--with
that two hundred pounds for which he had asked,--obtained with what
wiles, and lies, and baseness of subterfuge I need not stop here to
describe. But she was by no means willing to give this over into her
nephew's hands without security. She was willing to advance him this
money; she had been willing even to go through unusual dirt to get
it for him; but she was desirous that he should have it only for a
certain purpose. How could she bind him down to spend it as she would
have it spent? Could she undertake to hand it to him as soon as Lady
Glencora should be in his power? Even though she could have brought
herself to say as much,--and I think she might also have done so
after what she had said,--she could not have carried out such a
plan. In that case the want would be instant, and the acti