‘My dear Lady Bellair, what is the matter?’
‘Don’t ask me; don’t speak to me. I tell you I am in despair. Oh! if I were rich, how I would punish those wicked men!’
‘Can I do anything?’ said Lord Montfort.
‘I do not know what you can do. I have got the tic. I always have the tic when my friends are in trouble.’
‘Who is in trouble, Lady Bellair?’
‘My dearest friend; the only friend I care about. How can you be so hard-hearted? I called upon him this morning, and his servant was crying. I must get him a place; he is such a good man, and loves his master. Now, do you want a servant? You never want anything. Ask everybody you know whether they want a servant, an honest man, who loves his master. There he is crying down stairs, in Gregory’s room. Poor, good creature! I could cry myself, only it is of no use.’
‘Who is his master?’ said Lord Montfort.
‘Nobody you know; yes! you know him very well. It is my dear, dear friend; you know him very well. The bailiffs went to his hotel yesterday, and dragged him out of bed, and took him to prison. Oh! I shall go quite distracted. I want to sell my china to pay his debts. Where is Miss Twoshoes?’ continued her ladyship; ‘why don’t you answer? You do everything to plague me.’
‘Miss Grandison, Lady Bellair?’
‘To be sure; it is her lover.’