“Why, really,” said he, “there would be no living with Lady Delacour, if I did not come out with a little sly bit of wit now and then; but it is what I am not in the habit of doing, I assure you, except when very hard pushed. But, Miss Portman, as you like so much to hear the end of quarrels, here’s the end of one which you have a particular right to hear something of,” continued his lordship, taking out his pocket-book and producing some bank-notes: “you should have received this before, madam, if I had known of the transaction sooner--of your part of it, I mean.” “Milord, de man call to speak about de burgundy you order, milord,” said Champfort, who came into the room with a sly, inquisitive face. “Tell him I’ll see him immediately--show him into the parlour, and give him a newspaper to read.” “Yes, milord--milord has it in his pocket since he dress.” “Here it is,” said his lordship; and as Champfort came forward to receive the newspaper, his eye glanced at the bank-notes, and then at Miss Portman. “Here,” continued Lord Delacour, as Champfort had left the room, “here are your two hundred guineas, Miss Portman; and as I am going to this man about my burgundy, and shall be out all the rest of the day, let me trouble you the next time you see Lady Delacour to give her this pocket-book from me. I should be sorry that Miss Portman, from any thing that has passed, should run away with the idea that I am a niggardly husband, or a tyrant, though I certainly like to be master in my own house. What are you doing, madam?--that is your note, that does not go into the pocket-book, you know.” “Permit me to put it in, my lord,” said Belinda, returning the pocket-book to him, “and to beg you will give Lady Delacour the pleasure of seeing you: she has inquired several times whether your lordship were at home. I will run up to her dressing-room, and tell her that you are here.” “How lightly she goes on the wings of good-nature!” said Lord Delacour. “I can do no less than follow her; for though I like to be treated with respect in my own house, there is a time for every thing. I would not give Lady Delacour the trouble of coming down here to me with her sprained ankle, especially as she has inquired for me several times.”