ted to exerting himself to investigate, but this was going beyond
moderation, and the explosion had been too public to be passed over. So
he came home and sat by, while his wife and Mr. Bulfinch did the work
for him, and made it evident to him that the frauds had been of long
standing, and carried on with the connivance of the coachman, of
Gregorio,--who had before Mrs. Egremont's arrival acted as house
steward,--and of the former cook. Indeed, it was the housekeeper whom
Mrs. Egremont had left in charge, whose refusal to connive had brought
about the discovery.

Gregorio's share in all was sufficiently evident, and Alice's heart
leapt with hope. Her husband would be wholly her own if his evil
genius were once departed, but Mr. Egremont would not see it. He had
no objection to sacrifice the coachman and all his underlings, with the
bailiff and his entire family, and felt none of the pity that Alice had
for the pretty, silly, half-educated daughters; but as to the
valet--Pooh! pooh! the poor fellow had been out of the way all this
time--whatever he had done had been in the dark, ages long ago, before
Bridgefield knew its mistress; he was a foreigner, and that was enough
to prevent him from forgathering with the English. It was all their
English prejudice.

'I can show you facts and figures, sir,' said Mr. Bulfinch.

'I daresay, a year or more old. Why, I was an unprotected carcase
then--a mere prey--the fellow only did after his kind.'

Alice held her tongue then, but made an effort in private. 'Indeed, I
don't think you know; I am afraid Gregorio is not altered. I found him
out in his charges about the wine, and the servants' wages at Nice,
only you wouldn't listen.'

'His little perquisites, my dear child! Come, nonsense, these foreign
fellows don't pretend to have the morals you ascribe to the native
flunkey--generally without foundation either--they are much of a
muchness as to that; but your Frenchman or Italian does it more neatly,
and is a dozen times better servant than the other is.'

'But--'

'Oh, ay! I know you don't like him. But he knows his manners to you,
I hope?' said Mr. Egremont, with a suddenness that made her wish she
could truthfully say he did not.

'Yes, he always is--is respectful, but somehow I see it is under
protest.'

Mr. Egremont laughed. 'Rivals--yes, I see; why, you don't consider the
sore trial of having a full-grown mistress turned in upon him! Look
here, you keep t