to be reduced.

"Then I shall give you seventy."

At this unexpected grace Trimmer began to tremble with an excess of
indignation. She saw in this bounty a bribe to meanness.

"Thank you, sir; but I have never asked to have my wages raised, and I
am quite contented to remain as I am," she answered with dignity.
"Perhaps, if the ways of the house are to be so much altered, I may not
feel myself comfortable enough to stay."

"Oh, very well, my good soul; please yourself," replied the Captain
carelessly; "but remember what I have told you about cadgers and
interlopers; and get rid of two or three of those idle young women. I
shall examine your housekeeping accounts weekly, and pay all the
tradespeople weekly."

"They have not been used to it, sir."

"Then they must get used to it. I shall pay every account
weekly--corn-merchant, and all of them. Bring me up your book on
Saturday morning at ten, and let me have all other accounts at the same
time."

Here was a revolution. Trimmer and Forbes and Pauline sat long over
their dinner, talking about the shipwreck of a fine old house.

"I knew that things would be different," said Pauline, "but I didn't
think it would be so bad as this. I thought it would be all the other
way, and that there'd be grand doings and lots of company. What awful
meanness! Not a drop of soup to be given to a poor family; and I
suppose, if I ask my aunt and uncle to stop to tea and supper, anywhen
that they call to ask how I am, it will be against the rules."

"From what I gather, there's not a bit nor a sup to be given to
mortal," said Mrs. Trimmer solemnly.

"Well, thank Providence, I can afford to buy a bit of tea and sugar and
a quart loaf when a friend drops in," said Pauline, "but the meanness
isn't any less disgusting. He'll want her to sell her cast-off dresses
to the secondhand dealers, I shouldn't wonder."

"And he'll be asking for the keys of the cellars, perhaps," said
Forbes, "after I've kept them for five-and-twenty years."

CHAPTER IX.

The Owner of Bullfinch.

Captain Winstanley had been master of the Abbey House three months, and
there had been no open quarrel between him and Violet Tempest. Vixen
had been cold as marble, but she had been civil. For her mother's sake
she had held her peace. She remembered what Roderick Vawdrey had said
about her duty, and had tried to do it, difficult as that duty was to
the girl's undisciplined nature. She had even taken the loss