“Well, there's one thing I can tell you, Mrs. Bayley,” said he, with his usual grin. “The devil a bit of Ireland they 'd ever come to, if they could live in England. Mind my words, and see if they 'll not come true. It's either the bank is in a bad way, or this or that company is going to smash, or it's his wife has run away, or one of the daughters married the footman;--something or other has happened, you 'll see, or we would never have the honor of their distinguished company down here.” “It's a bad wind blows nobody good,” said Mrs. Bayley. “It's luck for us, anyhow.” “I don't perceive the luck of it either, ma'am,” said the Captain, with increased peevishness. “Chickens will be eighteenpence a couple, eggs a halfpenny apiece. I 'd like to know what you'll pay for a codfish, such as I bought yesterday for fourpence?” “It's better for them that has to sell them.” “Ay, but I'm talking of them that has to buy them, ma'am, and I'm thinking how a born gentleman with a fixed income is to compete with one of these fellows that gets his gold from California at market price, and makes more out of one morning's robbery on the Stock Exchange, than a Lieutenant-General receives after thirty years' service.” A sharp tap at the window-pane interrupted the discussion at this critical moment, and Mrs. Bayley perceived it was Mr. Dorose, Colonel Bramleigh's valet, who had come for the letters for the great house. “Only these, Mrs. Bayley?” said he, half contemptuously. “Well, indeed, sir; it's a good-sized bundle after all. There's eleven letters, and about fifteen papers and two books.” “Send them all on to Brighton, Mrs. Bayley. We shall not come down here till the end of the month. Just give me the 'Times,' however;” and tearing open the cover, he turned to the City article. “I hope you've nothing in Ecuadors, Mrs. Bayley; they look shaky. I'm 'hit,' too, in my Turks. I see no dividend this half.” Here he leaned forward, so as to whisper in her ear, and said, “Whenever you want a snug thing, Mrs. B., you're always safe with Brazilians;” and with this he moved off, leaving the postmistress in a flurry of shame and confusion as to what precise character of transaction his counsel applied. “Upon my conscience, we 're come to a pretty pass!” exclaimed the Captain, as, buttoning his coat, he issued forth into the street; nor was his temper much improved by finding the way blocked up by a string of carts and drays, slowly proceeding towards the great house, all loaded with furniture and kitchen utensils, and the other details of a large household. A bystander remarked that four saddle-horses had passed through at daybreak, and one of the grooms had said, “It was nothing to what was coming in a few days.”