however well they may be paid, somebody else will always pay them better;—unless fortune should throw in your way a man of integrity, who, from loyalty or a love of his country, will adventure everything for the cause he is engaged in: such a man is another sort of a thing!"
February 14.—Being Wednesday, I was, as usual, deprived of the honour of seeing Lady Hester until night; I therefore remained with my family, and, having recovered the lost spoon, which my servant produced out of fear of Hamâady's examination, pretending to have found it, I took the opportunity of settling his wages and turned him away.
After sunset I waited on her. She was in low spirits. "I am very weak," said she. "Look at my veins—they did not use to be so: look at my arms, too—mere skin and bone." She pointed to the state of her room: "See how filthy it is again already," she observed; "and if I say a word, those wretches seem not to mind me—they snub me, doctor."
She attempted to dictate the letter she proposed writing to the Duke of Wellington, but was unable. We drank tea. "Do you know," she said, "when old Malti" (this was the name Mr. Abella, the English agent, was generally designated by) "came in such a hurry, the other day, with Colonel Campbell's letter, and made such a fuss about delivering it
