It was more than Mrs. Dundyke could; and though, from that morning, the great merchant and his lady took pains to cultivate the intimacy thus formed, she never took to them so cordially as her husband. He, if one may use the old saying in such a sense, fell over head and ears in love with both, but Mrs. Dundyke never could feel quite at home with either. No doubt the sense of her own inferiority of position partly caused this: _she_ felt, if her husband did not, that they were no society, even abroad, for the powerful Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle. And, in her inmost heart, she did not like the lady. Her attire was ten times as costly and abundant as Mrs. Dundyke's, and she would wear more jewellery at one time than the latter had ever seen in all her life; and that was perhaps as it should be; but Mrs. Dundyke was apt to take likings and dislikings, and she could not like this lady, try as she would. She was certainly not a gentlewoman; and Mrs. Dundyke, with all her previous life's disadvantages of position, was that at heart, and could appreciate one. She decidedly wore rouge on her cheeks in an evening; she was not choice in her expressions at all times; and she was fond of wine, and did not object to brandy. One morning Mrs. Dundyke happened to be in Mrs. Hardcastle's room, when the English waiter entered. "My master's compliments, madam," he said, "and he hopes Mr. Hardcastle has some news for him this morning." The lady's face went crimson, the first time Mrs. Dundyke had seen any natural colour on it, and she answered, in a haughty tone, that Mr. Hardcastle was not then in--when he was, the man could speak with him. "For it is now a fortnight, madam, since he has daily promised to----" "I have nothing to do with it," interrupted Mrs. Hardcastle, imperiously motioning the waiter from the room; "you must address yourself to my husband." Mrs. Dundyke wondered what this little scene could mean. Had it been people of less known wealth than the Hardcastles, she might have thought it bore reference to the settlement--or non-settlement--of the bill. But that could scarcely happen with them. "What are you thinking of, Betsey?" Mr. Dundyke asked her that same day, she sat so deep in thought. "I was thinking of Mr. Hardcastle's eyes." "Of Mr. Hardcastle's eyes!" echoed the common-councilman. "Just then I was, David. The fact is, they puzzle me--they are always puzzling me. I feel quite certain I have seen them somewhere, or eyes exactly like them." "They are as handsome eyes as ever I saw," was the answer. "They may be handsome, but I don't like them. But that it is wrong to say it, I could almost say I hate them. They frighten me, David." "That's just one of your foolish fancies," cried Mr. Dundyke, in wrath. "You are always taking them up, you know." A day or two after this, Mr. Hardcastle came straight into the presence of Mr. Dundyke, some papers in his hand. "My dear sir," he said, "I want you to do me a favour."