he keys already, but the new fellow at the farm and all
the rest of them shall account to you for everything--Gregorio and all.
Won't that satisfy you?'

''Tis not only the money, but I think Gregorio is a bad--not a
good--man.'

'Ho, ho! she wants to advertise for a pious footman and coachman! eh?
No, I thank you, my dear Edda, I agree with--who was it who said,
"Volez moi, mais sans m'ennuyer."'

The Rectory likewise had hoped for Gregorio's dismissal, and there were
grave looks when Alice had to confess that nothing would move her
husband against him. The Canon even lashed himself up to say, 'I tell
you how it is, Alwyn, you'll never do any good with your household,
while you keep that fellow.'

'I am not aware what description of good you expect me to do with it,
Will,' coolly answered the elder brother in a disconcerting tone.

Poor Alice, on her side, thought of the Little Master, and then
wondered if it was uncharitable to do so. For she knew it had become
war to the knife with Gregorio! Whether his master told him, or
whether it were his own evil conscience, or the wonderful intuition of
servants, he certainly knew of the pressure for his dismissal, and he
visited it on her as much as he durst.

Outwardly deferential, he could thwart and annoy her in a hundred ways,
from making love to the housemaids to making evil suggestions to his
master, yet never giving her any overt cause of complaint. He could
worry and sting her under the politest exterior, and he knew very well
that the most effectual form of annoyance was the persuading his master
that any discomfort or lassitude was to be removed by some form of
narcotic. This would have the further advantage of stupefying Mr.
Egremont, and making him more ready to lapse under the old influence;
while the duration and strength of the new one was already a surprise
to Gregorio.

But there was no doubt that Mrs. Egremont had profited by her year of
training. She looked tired, and less youthful and pretty, but she had
gained in grace and importance as well as in style, and was much more
really the mistress of Bridgefield. Her shyness had passed away, and
she knew now to take her place in society, though still she was
somewhat silent. And her husband depended upon her entirely for all
his correspondence, for much of his occupation and amusement, and even
for the regulation of his affairs. In the household, Gregorio was
little more than his personal atten