"La' bless you, Sir George, it was more like paving-stones than screens
a-falling."

And indeed Mrs. Mallet was so far right, that when, to settle the
weighty question once for all, we adjourned in a body to the pink
bedroom, we discovered that nothing less than the ceiling, or at least a
portion of it, had fallen, and was lying in a heap of broken plaster
upon the floor. However, the moral, as Atherley hastened to observe, was
the same.

"You see, Mrs. Mallet, this was what made the noise."

Mrs. Mallet made no reply, but it was evident she neither saw nor
intended to see anything of the kind; and Atherley wisely substituted
bribery for reasoning. But even with this he made little way till
accidentally he mentioned the name of Mrs. de Noël, when, as if it had
been a name to conjure by, Mrs. Mallet showed signs of softening.

"Yes, think of Mrs. de Noël, Mrs. Mallet; what will she say if you leave
her cousin to starve?"

"I should not wish such a thing to happen for a moment," said Mrs.
Mallet, as if this had been no figure of speech but the actual
alternative, "not to any relation of Mrs. de Noël."

And shortly after the debate ended with a cheerful "Well, Mrs. Mallet,
you will give us another trial," from Atherley.

"There," he exclaimed, as we all three returned to the
morning-room--"there is as splendid an example of the manufacture of a