Mrs. Ludgate’s temper, which never was sweet, was soured to such a degree, by these accumulated evils, that she was insufferable. Her husband kept out of the way as much as possible: he dined and supped at his club, or at the tavern: and, during the evenings and mornings, he was visible at home but for a few minutes. Yet, though his time was passed entirely away from his wife, his children, and his home, he was not happy. His life was a life of perpetual fraud and fear. He was bound by his engagements with Lewis to pass for the confederates a certain number of forged notes every day. This was a perilous task! His utmost exertions and ingenuity were continually necessary to escape detection; and, after all, he was barely able to wrest from the hard hands of his _friends_ a sufficient profit upon his labour to maintain himself. How often did he look back, with regret, to the days when he stood behind the counter, in his father’s shop! Then he had in Allen a real friend; but now he had in Lewis only a profligate and unfeeling associate. Lewis cared for no one but himself; and he was as avaricious as he was extravagant; “greedy of what belonged to others, prodigal of his own.” One night, Leonard went to the house where the confederates met, to settle with them for the last parcel of notes that he had passed. Lewis insisted upon being paid for his services before Ludgate should touch a farthing. Words ran high between them: Lewis, having the most influence with his associates, carried his point; and Leonard, who was in want of ready money, could supply himself only by engaging to pass double the usual quantity of forged notes during the ensuing month. Upon this condition, he obtained the supply for which he solicited. Upon his return home, he locked up the forged notes as usual in his escritoir. It happened the very next morning that Mrs. la Mode, the milliner, called upon Mrs. Ludgate. The ruling passion still prevailed, notwithstanding the miserable state to which this lady was reduced. Even palsy could not deaden her personal vanity: her love of dress survived the total loss of her beauty; she became accustomed to the sight of her distorted features, and was still anxious to wear what was most genteel and becoming. Mrs. la Mode had not a more constant visitor. “How are you, Mrs. Ludgate, this morning?” said she. “But I need not ask, for you look _surprising_ well. I just called to tell you a bit of a secret, that I have told to nobody else; but you being such a friend and a favourite, have a right to know it. You must know, I am going next week to bring out a new spring hat; and I have made one of my girls bring it up, to consult with you before any body else, having a great opinion of your taste and judgment: though it is a thing that must not be mentioned, because it would ruin me with Mrs. Pimlico, who made me swear she should have the first sight.”