it into an hotel. The Baron is still with us, and there have been
more disagreements about money matters. I don't like the Baron--
and I don't find the attractions of my lady grow on me. She was much
nicer before the Baron joined us. My lord is a punctual paymaster;
it's a matter of honour with him; he hates parting with his money,
but he does it because he has given his word. I receive my salary
regularly at the end of each month--not a franc extra, though I
have done many things which are not part of a courier's proper work.
Fancy the Baron trying to borrow money of me! he is an inveterate gambler.
I didn't believe it when my lady's maid first told me so--
but I have seen enough since to satisfy me that she was right.
I have seen other things besides, which--well! which don't increase
my respect for my lady and the Baron. The maid says she means to give
warning to leave. She is a respectable British female, and doesn't
take things quite so easily as I do. It is a dull life here.
No going into company--no company at home--not a creature sees my lord--
not even the consul, or the banker. When he goes out, he goes alone,
and generally towards nightfall. Indoors, he shuts himself up
in his own room with his books, and sees as little of his wife and
the Baron as possible. I fancy things are coming to a crisis here.
If my lord's suspicions are once awakened, the consequences will
be terrible. Under certain provocations, the noble Montbarry
is a man who would stick at nothing. However, the pay is good--
and I can't afford to talk of leaving the place, like my lady's
maid.'

Agnes handed back the letters--so suggestive of the penalty paid
already for his own infatuation by the man who had deserted her!--
with feelings of shame and distress, which made her no fit counsellor
for the helpless woman who depended on her advice.