To Brock, then, and to Brock only (for she knew no other soul), Mrs.
Cat breathed, in strictest confidence, the history of the Count's
winnings, and his way of disposing of them; how he kept his money
screwed down in an iron chest in their room; and a very lucky fellow
did Brock consider his officer for having such a large sum. He and
Cat looked at the chest: it was small, but mighty strong, sure
enough, and would defy picklocks and thieves. Well, if any man
deserved money, the Captain did ("though he might buy me a few yards
of that lace I love so," interrupted Cat),--if any man deserved
money, he did, for he spent it like a prince, and his hand was
always in his pocket.

It must now be stated that Monsieur de Galgenstein had, during Cat's
seclusion, cast his eyes upon a young lady of good fortune, who
frequented the Assembly at Birmingham, and who was not a little
smitten by his title and person. The "four new coats, laced, and
paid for," as Cat said, had been purchased, most probably, by his
Excellency for the purpose of dazzling the heiress; and he and the
coats had succeeded so far as to win from the young woman an actual
profession of love, and a promise of marriage provided Pa would
consent. This was obtained,--for Pa was a tradesman; and I suppose
every one of my readers has remarked how great an effect a title has
on the lower classes. Yes, thank Heaven! there is about a freeborn
Briton a cringing baseness, and lickspittle awe of rank, which does
not exist under any tyranny in Europe, and is only to be found here
and in America.

All these negotiations had been going on quite unknown to Cat; and,
as the Captain had determined, before two months were out, to fling
that young woman on the pave, he was kind to her in the meanwhile: