ful
countenance.

Mrs. Bonner, my lady's maid and housekeeper, came down upon him whilst
engaged in this occupation. Mrs. Bonner, a part of the family and as
necessary to her mistress as the Chevalier was to Sir Francis, was
of course on Lady Clavering's side in the dispute between her and her
husband, and as by duty bound even more angry than her ladyship herself.

"She won't pay, if she takes my advice," Mrs. Bonner said. "You'll
please to go back to Sir Francis, Captain--and he lurking about in a low
public-house and don't dare to face his wife like a man!--and say that
we won't pay his debts no longer. We made a man of him, we took him out
of gaol (and other folks too perhaps), we've paid his debts over and
over again--we set him up in Parliament and gave him a house in town and
country, and where he don't dare show his face, the shabby sneak! We've
given him the horse he rides and the dinner he eats and the very clothes
he has on his back; and we will give him no more. Our fortune, such as
is left of it, is left to ourselves, and we won't waste any more of it
on this ungrateful man. We'll give him enough to live upon and leave
him, that's what we'll do: and that's what you may tell him from Susan
Bonner."

Susan Bonner's mistress hearing of Strong's arrival sent for him at this
juncture, and the Chevalier went up to her ladyship not without hopes
that he should find her more tractable than her factotum Mrs. Bonner.
Many a time before had he pleaded his client's cause with Lady Clavering
and caused her good-nature to relent. He tried again once more. He
painted in dismal colours the situation in which he had found Sir
Francis: and would not answer for any consequences which might ensue if
he could not find means of meeting his engagements.

"Kill hisself," laughed Mrs. Bonner, "kill hisself, will he? Dying's
the best thing he could do." Strong vowed that he had found him with the
razors on the table; but at this, in her turn, Lady Clavering laughed
bitterly. "He'll do himself no harm, as long as there's a shilling left
of which he can rob a poor woman. His life's quite safe, Captain: you
may depend upon that. Ah! it was a bad day that ever I set eyes on him."

"He's worse than the first man," cried out my lady's aide-de-camp.
"He was a man, he was--a wild devil, but he had the courage of a
man--whereas this fellow--what's the use of my lady paying his bills,
and selling her diamonds, and forgiving him? He'll be