waiting till she should be sleepy. It was the only point in which she
was a little hard upon her maid, who in every other respect was the
best-treated of servants. Lady Mary, as it happened, had often no
inclination for bed till the night was far advanced. She slept little, as
is common enough at her age. She was in her warm wadded dressing-gown, an
article in which she still showed certain traces (which were indeed
visible in all she wore) of her ancient beauty, with her white hair
becomingly arranged under a cap of cambric and lace. At the last moment,
when she had been ready to step into bed, she had changed her mind, and
told Jervis that she would write a letter or two first. And she had
written her letters, but still felt no inclination to sleep. Then there
fluttered across her memory somehow the conversation she had held with
Mr. Furnival in the morning. It would be amusing, she thought, to cheat
him out of some of those six-and-eightpences he pretended to think so
much of. It would be still more amusing, next time the subject of her
will was recurred to, to give his arm a little tap with her fan, and say,
"Oh, that is all settled, months ago." She laughed to herself at this,
and took out a fresh sheet of paper. It was a little jest that pleased
her.

"Do you think there is any one up yet, Jervis, except you and me?" she
said to the maid. Jervis hesitated a little, and then said that she
believed Mr. Brown had not gone to bed yet; for he had been going over
the cellar, and was making up his accounts. Jervis was so explanatory
that her mistress divined what was meant. "I suppose I have been spoiling
sport, keeping you here," she said good-humoredly; for it was well known
that Miss Jervis and Mr. Brown were engaged, and that they were only
waiting (everybody knew but Lady Mary, who never suspected it) the death
of their mistress, to set up a lodging-house in Jermyn Street, where they
fully intended to make their fortune. "Then go," Lady Mary said, "and