Hitherto the Rodneys had been successful in their enterprise, and the
soundness of Mr. Vigo's advice had been proved. Their house was full,
and of the best tenants. Their first floor was taken by a distinguished
M.P., a county member of repute whom Mr. Rodney had known before the
"revolution," and who was so pleased with his quarters, and the comfort
and refinement of all about him, that to ensure their constant enjoyment
he became a yearly tenant. Their second floor, which was nearly as good
as their first, was inhabited by a young gentleman of fashion, who took
them originally only by the week, and who was always going to give
them up, but never did. The weekly lodger went to Paris, and he went
to German baths, and he went to country houses, and he was frequently
a long time away, but he never gave up his lodgings. When therefore Mr.
Ferrars called in Warwick Street, the truth is the house was full and
there was no vacant room for him. But this the Rodneys would not admit.
Though they were worldly people, and it seemed impossible that anything
more could be gained from the ruined house of Hurstley, they had,
like many other people, a superstition, and their superstition was an
adoration of the family of Ferrars. The sight of their former master,
who, had it not been for the revolution, might have been Prime Minister
of England, and the recollection of their former mistress and all her
splendour, and all the rich dresses which she used to give so profusely
to her dependent, quite overwhelmed them. Without consultation this
sympathising couple leapt to the same conclusion. They assured Mr.
Ferrars they could accommodate him, and that he should find everything
prepared for him when he called again, and they resigned to him, without
acknowledging it, their own commodious and well-furnished chamber, which
Mrs. Rodney prepared for him with the utmost solicitude, arranging his
writing-table and materials as he used to have them in Hill Street, and
showing by a variety of modes she remembered all his ways.