s failing health (she
was obliged to part with two of them, she said, and send them to school,
for she could not have them in that horrid place)--that Mrs. Bungay,
though as grim as Lady Macbeth, melted under the influence of the
simple tale, and said she would go down and speak to Bungay. Now in this
household to speak was to command, with Mrs. Bungay; and with Bungay, to
hear was to obey.

It was just when poor Finucane was in despair about his negotiation,
that the majestic Mrs. Bungay descended upon her spouse, politely
requested Mr. Finucane to step up to his friends in her drawing-room,
while she held a few minutes' conversation with Mr. B., and when
the pair were alone the publisher's better half informed him of her
intentions towards the Captain's lady.

"What's in the wind now, my dear?" Maecenas asked, surprised at his
wife's altered tone. "You wouldn't hear of my doing anything for the
Captain this morning: I wonder what has been a changing of you.

"The Capting is an Irishman," Mrs. Bungay replied; "and those Irish I
have always said I couldn't abide. But his wife is a lady, as any one
can see; and a good woman, and a clergyman's daughter, and a West
of England woman, B., which I am myself, by my mother's side--and, O
Marmaduke! didn't you remark the little gurl?"

"Yes, Mrs. B., I saw the little girl."

"And didn't you see how like she was to our angel, Bessy, Mr. B.?"--and
Mrs. Bungay's thoughts flew back to a period eighteen years back, when
Bacon and Bungay had just set up in business as small booksellers in a
country town, and when she had had a child, named Bessy, something like
the little Mary who had moved her compassion.

"Well, well, my dear," Mr. Bungay said, seeing the little eyes of his
wife begin to twinkle and grow red; "the Captain ain't in for much.
There's only a hundred and thirty pound against him. Half the money
will take him out of the Fleet, Finucane says, and we'll pay him half
salaries till he has made the account square. When the little 'un said,
'Why don't you take Par out of prizn?' I did feel it, Flora, upon my
honour I did, now." And the upshot of this conversation was, that Mr.
and Mrs. Bungay both ascended to the drawing-room, and Mr. Bungay made
a heavy and clumsy speech, in which he announced to Mrs. Shandon, that,
hearing sixty-five pounds would set her husband free, he was ready to
advance that sum of money, deducting it from the Captain's salary, and
that he would