he heard from her
husband the man's surmise that perhaps he might destroy himself. "He
will; he will; and if he does, how can you expect that I shall bear
it?" Mr Palliser tried to soothe her by telling her of his promised
visit to the landlord; and Lady Glencora, accepting this as
something, strove to instigate her husband to some lavish expenditure
on Burgo's behalf. "There can be no reason why he should not take
it," said Glencora. "None the least. Had it not been promised to him?
Had he not a right to it?" The subject was one which Mr Palliser
found it very hard to discuss. He could not tell his wife that
Fitzgerald ought to accept his bounty; but he assured her that his
money should be forthcoming, almost to any extent, if it could be
made available.

On the following morning he went down to the hotel, and saw the
real landlord. He found him to be a reasonable, tranquil, and very
good-natured man,--who was possessed by a not irrational desire that
his customers' bills should be paid; but who seemed to be much less
eager on the subject than are English landlords in general. His chief
anxiety seemed to arise from the great difficulty of doing anything
with the gentleman who was now lying in his bed up-stairs. "Has he
had any breakfast?" Mr Palliser asked.

"Breakfast! Oh yes;" and the landlord laughed. He had been very
particular in the orders he had given. He had desired his cutlets to
be dressed in a particular way,--with a great deal of cayenne pepper,
and they had been so dressed. He had ordered a bottle of Sauterne;
but the landlord had thought, or the head-waiter acting for him had
thought, that a bottle of ordinary wine of the country would do as
well. The bottle of ordinary wine of the country had just that moment
been sent up-stairs.

Then Mr Palliser sat down in the landlord's little room, and had
Burgo Fitzgerald's bill brought to him. "I think I might venture to
pay it," said Mr Palliser.

"That was as monsieur pleased," said the landlord, with something
like a sparkle in his eye.

What was Mr Palliser to do? He did not know whether, in accordance
with the rules of the world in which he lived, he ought to pay it,
or ought to leave it; and certainly the landlord could not tell him.
Then he thought of his wife. He could not go back to his wife without
having done something; so, as a first measure, he paid the bill. The
landlord's eyes glittered, and he receipted it in the most becoming
manner.

"S