This Baronet was proud, too; and the mere possession of his secrets by Feltram was an involuntary insult, which Sir Bale could not forgive.

He wished him far away; and except for the recovery of his bank-note, which he could ill spare, he was sorry that this suspicion was cleared up.
The thunder and storm were unabated; it seemed indeed that they were growing wilder and more awful.
He opened the window-shutter and looked out upon that sublimest of scenes; and so intense and magnificent were its phenomena, that Sir Bale, for a while, was absorbed in this contemplation.
When he turned about, the sight of his L100 note, still between his finger and thumb, made him smile grimly.
The more he thought of it, the clearer it was that he could not leave matters exactly as they were.

Well, what should he do?
He would send for Mrs.Julaper, and tell her vaguely that he had changed his mind about Feltram, and that he might continue to stay at Mardykes Hall as usual.
That would suffice.

She could speak to Feltram.
He sent for her; and soon, in the lulls of the great uproar without, he could hear the jingle of Mrs.Julaper's keys and her light tread upon the lobby.
"Mrs.Julaper," said the Baronet, in his dry careless way, "Feltram may remain; your eloquence has prevailed.

What have you been crying about ?" he asked, observing that his housekeeper's usually cheerful face was, in her own phrase, 'all cried.' "It is too late, sir; he's gone." "And when did he go ?" asked Sir Bale, a little put out.