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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Terrible Temptation, by Charles Reade
+#12 in our series by Charles Reade
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+Title: A Terrible Temptation
+       A Story of To-Day
+
+Author: Charles Reade
+
+Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7895]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on May 31, 2003]
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+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by James Rusk
+
+
+
+
+A Terrible Temptation
+
+A Story of To-Day
+
+by
+
+Charles Reade
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE morning-room of a large house in Portman Square, London.
+
+A gentleman in the prime of life stood with his elbow on the broad
+mantel-piece, and made himself agreeable to a young lady, seated a
+little way off, playing at work.
+
+To the ear he was only conversing, but his eyes dwelt on her with
+loving admiration all the time. Her posture was favorable to this
+furtive inspection, for she leaned her fair head over her work with a
+pretty, modest, demure air, that seemed to say, "I suspect I am being
+admired: I will not look to see: I might have to check it."
+
+The gentleman's features were ordinary, except his brow--that had power
+in it--but he had the beauty of color; his sunburned features glowed
+with health, and his eye was bright. On the whole, rather good-looking
+when he smiled, but ugly when he frowned; for his frown was a scowl,
+and betrayed a remarkable power of hating.
+
+Miss Arabella Bruce was a beauty. She had glorious masses of dark red
+hair, and a dazzling white neck to set it off; large, dove-like eyes,
+and a blooming oval face, which would have been classical if her lips
+had been thin and finely chiseled; but here came in her Anglo-Saxon
+breed, and spared society a Minerva by giving her two full and rosy
+lips. They made a smallish mouth at rest, but parted ever so wide when
+they smiled, and ravished the beholder with long, even rows of dazzling
+white teeth.
+
+Her figure was tall and rather slim, but not at all commanding. There
+are people whose very bodies express character; and this tall, supple,
+graceful frame of Bella Bruce breathed womanly subservience; so did her
+gestures. She would take up or put down her own scissors half timidly,
+and look around before threading her needle, as if to see whether any
+soul objected. Her favorite word was "May I?" with a stress on the
+"May," and she used it where most girls would say "I will," or nothing,
+and do it.
+
+Mr. Richard Bassett was in love with her, and also conscious that her
+fifteen thousand pounds would be a fine addition to his present income,
+which was small, though his distant expectations were great. As he had
+known her but one month, and she seemed rather amiable than
+inflammable, he had the prudence to proceed by degrees; and that is
+why, though his eyes gloated on her, he merely regaled her with the
+gossip of the day, not worth recording here. But when he had actually
+taken his hat to go, Bella Bruce put him a question that had been on
+her mind the whole time, for which reason she had reserved it to the
+very last moment.
+
+"Is Sir Charles Bassett in town?" said she, mighty carelessly, but
+bending a little lower over her embroidery.
+
+"Don't know," said Richard Bassett, with such a sudden brevity and
+asperity that Miss Bruce looked up and opened her lovely eyes. Mr.
+Richard Bassett replied to this mute inquiry, "We don't speak." Then,
+after a pause, "He has robbed me of my inheritance."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Bassett!"
+
+"Yes, Miss Bruce, the Bassett and Huntercombe estates were mine by
+right of birth. My father was the eldest son, and they were entailed on
+him. But Sir Charles's father persuaded my old, doting grandfather to
+cut off the entail, and settle the estates on him and his heirs; and so
+they robbed me of every acre they could. Luckily my little estate of
+Highmore was settled on my mother and her issue too tight for the
+villains to undo."
+
+These harsh expressions, applied to his own kin, and the abruptness and
+heat they were uttered with, surprised and repelled his gentle
+listener. She shrank a little away from him. He observed it. She
+replied not to his words, but to her own thought:
+
+"But, after all, it does seem hard." She added, with a little fervor,
+"But it wasn't poor Sir Charles's doing, after all."
+
+"He is content to reap the benefit," said Richard Bassett, sternly.
+
+Then, finding he was making a sorry impression, he tried to get away
+from the subject. I say tried, for till a man can double like a hare he
+will never get away from his hobby. "Excuse me," said he; "I ought
+never to speak about it. Let us talk of something else. You cannot
+enter into my feelings; it makes my blood boil. Oh, Miss Bruce! you
+can't conceive what a disinherited man feels--and I live at the very
+door: his old trees, that ought to be mine, fling their shadows over my
+little flower beds; the sixty chimneys of Huntercombe Hall look down on
+my cottage; his acres of lawn run up to my little garden, and nothing
+but a ha-ha between us."
+
+"It _is_ hard," said Miss Bruce, composedly; not that she entered into
+a hardship of this vulgar sort, but it was her nature to soothe and
+please people.
+
+"Hard!" cried Richard Bassett, encouraged by even this faint sympathy;
+"it would be unendurable but for one thing--I shall have my own some
+day."
+
+"I am glad of that," said the lady; "but how?"
+
+"By outliving the wrongful heir."
+
+Miss Bruce turned pale. She had little experience of men's passions.
+"Oh, Mr. Bassett!" said she--and there was something pure and holy in
+the look of sorrow and alarm she cast on the presumptuous
+speaker--"pray do not cherish such thoughts. They will do you harm. And
+remember life and death are not in our hands. Besides--"
+
+"Well?"'
+
+"Sir Charles might--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Might he not--marry--and have children?" This with more hesitation and
+a deeper blush than appeared absolutely necessary.
+
+"Oh, there's no fear of that. Property ill-gotten never descends.
+Charles is a worn-out rake. He was fast at Eton--fast at Oxford--fast
+in London. Why, he looks ten years older than I, and he is three years
+younger. He had a fit two years ago. Besides, he is not a marrying man.
+Bassett and Huntercombe will be mine. And oh! Miss Bruce, if ever they
+are mine--"
+
+"Sir Charles Bassett!" trumpeted a servant at the door; and then
+waited, prudently, to know whether his young lady, whom he had caught
+blushing so red with one gentleman, would be at home to another.
+
+"Wait a moment," said Miss Bruce to him. Then, discreetly ignoring what
+Bassett had said last, and lowering her voice almost to a whisper, she
+said, hurriedly: "You should not blame him for the faults of others.
+There--I have not been long acquainted with either, and am little
+entitled to inter--But it is such a pity you are not friends. He is
+very good, I assure you, and very nice. Let me reconcile you two. _May_
+I?"
+
+This well-meant petition was uttered very sweetly; and, indeed--if I
+may be permitted--in a way to dissolve a bear.
+
+But this was not a bear, nor anything else that is placable; it was a
+man with a hobby grievance; so he replied in character:
+
+"That is impossible so long as he keeps me out of my own." He had the
+grace, however, to add, half sullenly, "Excuse me; I feel I have been
+too vehement."
+
+Miss Bruce, thus repelled, answered, rather coldly:
+
+"Oh, never mind _that;_ it was very natural.--I am at home, then," said
+she to the servant.
+
+Mr. Bassett took the hint, but turned at the door, and said, with no
+little agitation, "I was not aware he visits you. One word--don't let
+his ill-gotten acres make you quite forget the disinherited one." And
+so he left her, with an imploring look.
+
+She felt red with all this, so she slipped out at another door, to cool
+her cheeks and imprison a stray curl for Sir Charles.
+
+He strolled into the empty room, with the easy, languid air of fashion.
+His features were well cut, and had some nobility; but his sickly
+complexion and the lines under his eyes told a tale of dissipation. He
+appeared ten years older than he was, and thoroughly _blase._
+
+Yet when Miss Bruce entered the room with a smile and a little blush,
+he brightened up and looked handsome, and greeted her with momentary
+warmth.
+
+After the usual inquiries she asked him if he had met any body.
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Here; just now."
+
+"No."
+
+"What, nobody at all?"
+
+"Only my sulky cousin; I don't call him anybody," drawled Sir Charles,
+who was now relapsing into his normal condition of semi-apathy.
+
+"Oh," said Miss Bruce gayly, "you must expect him to be a little cross.
+It is not so very nice to be disinherited, let me tell you."
+
+"And who has disinherited the fellow?"
+
+"I forget; but you disinherited him among you. Never mind; it can't be
+helped now. When did you come back to town? I didn't see you at Lady
+d'Arcy's ball, did I?"
+
+"You did not, unfortunately for me; but you would if I had known you
+were to be there. But about Richard: he may tell you what he likes, but
+he was not disinherited; he was bought out. The fact is, his father was
+uncommonly fast. My grandfather paid his debts again and again; but at
+last the old gentleman found he was dealing with the Jews for his
+reversion. Then there was an awful row. It ended in my grandfather
+outbidding the Jews. He bought the reversion of his estate from his own
+son for a large sum of money (he had to raise it by mortgages); then
+they cut off the entail between them, and he entailed the mortgaged
+estate on his other son, and his grandson (that was me), and on my
+heir-at-law. Richard's father squandered his thirty thousand pounds
+before he died; my father husbanded the estates, got into Parliament,
+and they put a tail to his name."
+
+Sir Charles delivered this version of the facts with a languid
+composure that contrasted deliciously with Richard's heat in telling
+the story his way (to be sure, Sir Charles had got Huntercombe and
+Bassett, and it is easier to be philosophical on the right side of the
+boundary hedge), and wound up with a sort of corollary: "Dick Bassett
+suffers by his father's vices, and I profit by mine's virtues. Where's
+the injustice?"
+
+"Nowhere, and the sooner you are reconciled the better."
+
+Sir Charles demurred. "Oh, I don't want to quarrel with the fellow: but
+he is a regular thorn in my side, with his little trumpery estate, all
+in broken patches. He shoots my pheasants in the unfairest way." Here
+the landed proprietor showed real irritation, but only for a moment. He
+concluded calmly, "The fact is, he is not quite a gentleman. Fancy his
+coming and whining to you about our family affairs, and then telling
+you a falsehood!"
+
+"No, no; be did not mean. It was his way of looking at things. You can
+afford to forgive him."
+
+"Yes, but not if he sets you against me."
+
+"But he cannot do that. The more any one was to speak against you, the
+more I--of course."
+
+This admission fired Sir Charles; he drew nearer, and, thanks to his
+cousin's interference, spoke the language of love more warmly and
+directly than he had ever done before.
+
+The lady blushed, and defended herself feebly. Sir Charles grew warmer,
+and at last elicited from her a timid but tender avowal, that made him
+supremely happy.
+
+When he left her this brief ecstasy was succeeded by regrets on account
+of the years he had wasted in follies and intrigues.
+
+He smoked five cigars, and pondered the difference between the pure
+creature who now honored him with her virgin affections and beauties of
+a different character who had played their parts in his luxurious life.
+
+After profound deliberation he sent for his solicitor. They lighted the
+inevitable cigars, and the following observations struggled feebly out
+along with the smoke.
+
+"Mr. Oldfield, I'm going to be married."
+
+"Glad to hear it, Sir Charles." (Vision of settlements.) "It is a high
+time you were." (Puff-puff.)
+
+"Want your advice and assistance first."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Must put down my pony-carriage now, you know."
+
+"A very proper retrenchment; but you can do that without my assistance,
+
+"There would be sure to be a row if I did. I dare say there will be as
+it is. At any rate, I want to do the thing like a gentleman."
+
+"Send 'em to Tattersall's." (Puff.)
+
+"And the girl that drives them in the park, and draws all the duchesses
+and countesses at her tail--am I to send her to Tattersall's?" (Puff.)
+
+"Oh, it is _her_ you want to put down, then?"
+
+"Why, of course."
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+SIR CHARLES and Mr. Oldfield settled that lady's retiring pension, and
+Mr. Oldfield took the memoranda home, with instructions to prepare a
+draft deed for Miss Somerset's approval.
+
+Meantime Sir Charles visited Miss Bruce every day. Her affections for
+him grew visibly, for being engaged gave her the courage to love.
+
+Mr. Bassett called pretty often; but one day he met Sir Charles on the
+stairs, and scowled.
+
+That scowl cost him dear, for Sir Charles thereupon represented to
+Bella that a man with a grievance is a bore to the very eye, and asked
+her to receive no more visits from his scowling cousin. The lady
+smiled, and said, with soft complacency, "I obey."
+
+Sir Charles's gallantry was shocked.
+
+"No, don't say 'obey.' It is a little favor I ventured to ask."
+
+"It is like you to ask what you have a right to command. I shall be out
+to him in future, and to every one who is disagreeable to you. What!
+does 'obey' frighten you from my lips? To me it is the sweetest in the
+language. Oh, please let me 'obey' you! _May_ I?"
+
+Upon this, as vanity is seldom out of call, Sir Charles swelled like a
+turkey-cock, and loftily consented to indulge Bella Bruce's strange
+propensity. From that hour she was never at home to Mr. Bassett.
+
+He began to suspect; and one day, after he had been kept out with the
+loud, stolid "Not at home" of practiced mendacity, he watched, and saw
+Sir Charles admitted.
+
+He divined it all in a moment, and turned to wormwood. What! was he to
+be robbed of the lady he loved--and her fifteen thousand pounds--by the
+very man who had robbed him of his ancestral fields? He dwelt on the
+double grievance till it nearly frenzied him. But he could do nothing:
+it was his fate. His only hope was that Sir Charles, the arrant flirt,
+would desert this beauty after a time, as he had the others.
+
+But one afternoon, in the smoking-room of his club, a gentleman said to
+him, "So your cousin Charles is engaged to the Yorkshire beauty, Bell
+Bruce?"
+
+"He is flirting with her, I believe," said Richard.
+
+"No, no," said the other; "they are engaged. I know it for a fact. They
+are to be married next month."
+
+Mr. Richard Bassett digested this fresh pill in moody silence, while
+the gentlemen of the club discussed the engagement with easy levity.
+They soon passed to a topic of wider interest, viz., who was to succeed
+Sir Charles with La Somerset. Bassett began to listen attentively, and
+learned for the first time Sir Charles Bassett's connection with that
+lady, and also that she was a woman of a daring nature and furious
+temper. At first he was merely surprised; but soon hatred and jealousy
+whispered in his ear that with these materials it must be possible to
+wound those who had wounded him.
+
+Mr. Marsh, a young gentleman with a receding chin, and a mustache
+between hay and straw, had taken great care to let them all know he was
+acquainted with Miss Somerset. So Richard got Marsh alone, and sounded
+him. Could he call upon the lady without ceremony?
+
+"You won't get in. Her street door is jolly well guarded, I can tell
+you."
+
+"I am very curious to see her in her own house."
+
+"So are a good many fellows."
+
+"Could you not give me an introduction?"
+
+Marsh shook his head sapiently for a considerable time, and with all
+this shaking, as it appeared, out fell words of wisdom. "Don't see it.
+I'm awfully spooney on her myself; and, you know, when a fellow
+introduces another fellow, that fellow always cuts the other out."
+Then, descending from the words of the wise and their dark sayings to a
+petty but pertinent fact, he added, _"Besides,_ I'm only let in myself
+about once in five times."
+
+"She gives herself wonderful airs, it seems," said Bassett, rather
+bitterly.
+
+Marsh fired up. "So would any woman that was as beautiful, and as witty
+and as much run after as she is. Why she is a leader of fashion. Look
+at all the ladies following her round the park. They used to drive on
+the north side of the Serpentine. She just held up her finger, and now
+they have cut the Serpentine, and followed her to the south drive."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" said Bassett. "Ah then this is a great lady; a poor
+country squire must not venture into her august presence." He turned
+savagely on his heel, and Marsh went and made sickly mirth at his
+expense.
+
+By this means the matter soon came to the ears of old Mr. Woodgate, the
+father of that club, and a genial gossip. He got hold of Bassett in the
+dinner-room and examined him. "So you want an introduction to La
+Somerset, and Marsh refuses--Marsh, hitherto celebrated for his weak
+head rather than his hard heart?"
+
+Richard Bassett nodded rather sullenly. He had not bargained for this
+rapid publicity.
+
+The venerable chief resumed: "We all consider Marsh's conduct
+unclubable and a thing to be combined against. Wanted--an
+Anti-dog-in-the-manger League. I'll introduce you to the Somerset."
+
+"What! do _you_ visit her?" asked Bassett, in some astonishment.
+
+The old gentleman held up his hands in droll disclaimer, and chuckled
+merrily "No, no; I enjoy from the shore the disasters of my youthful
+friends--that sacred pleasure is left me. Do you see that elegant
+creature with the little auburn beard and mustache, waiting sweetly for
+his dinner. He launched the Somerset."
+
+"Launched her?"
+
+"Yes; but for him she might have wasted her time breaking hearts and
+slapping faces in some country village. He it was set her devastating
+society; and with his aid she shall devastate you.--Vandeleur, will you
+join Bassett and me?"
+
+Mr. Vandeleur, with ready grace, said he should be delighted, and they
+dined together accordingly.
+
+Mr. Vandeleur, six feet high, lank, but graceful as a panther, and the
+pink of politeness, was, beneath his varnish, one of the wildest young
+men in London--gambler, horse-racer, libertine, what not?--but in
+society charming, and his manners singularly elegant and winning. He
+never obtruded his vices in good company; in fact, you might dine with
+him all your life and not detect him. The young serpent was torpid in
+wine; but he came out, a bit at a time, in the sunshine of Cigar.
+
+After a brisk conversation on current topics, the venerable chief told
+him plainly they were both curious to know the history of Miss
+Somerset, and he must tell it them.
+
+"Oh, with pleasure," said the obliging youth. "Let us go into the
+smoking-room."
+
+
+
+"Let--me--see. I picked her up by the sea-side. She promised well at
+first. We put her on my chestnut mare, and she showed lots of courage,
+so she soon learned to ride; but she kicked, even down there."
+
+"Kicked!--whom?"
+
+"Kicked all round; I mean showed temper. And when she got to London,
+and had ridden a few times in the park, and swallowed flattery, there
+was no holding her. I stood her cheek for a good while, but at last I
+told the servants they must not turn her out, but they could keep her
+out. They sided with me for once. She had ridden over them, as well.
+The first time she went out they bolted the doors, and handed her boxes
+up the area steps."
+
+"How did she take that?"
+
+"Easier than we expected. She said, 'Lucky for you beggars that I'm a
+lady, or I'd break every d--d window in the house.'"
+
+This caused a laugh. It subsided. The historian resumed.
+
+"Next day she cooled, and wrote a letter."
+
+"To you?"
+
+"No, to my groom. Would you like to see it? It is a curiosity."
+
+He sent one of the club waiters for his servant, and his servant for
+his desk, and produced the letter.
+
+"There!" said Vandeleur. "She looks like a queen, and steps like an
+empress, and this is how she writes:
+
+
+"'DEAR JORGE--i have got the sak, an' praps your turn nex. dear jorge
+he alwaies promise me the grey oss, which now an oss is life an death
+to me. If you was to ast him to lend me the grey he wouldn't refuse
+you,
+
+"'Yours respecfully,
+
+"'RHODA SOMERSET.'"
+
+
+
+When the letter and the handwriting, which, unfortunately, I cannot
+reproduce, had been duly studied and approved, Vandeleur continued--
+
+"Now, you know, she had her good points, after all. If any creature was
+ill, she'd sit up all night and nurse them, and she used to go to
+church on Sundays, and come back with the sting out of her; only then
+she would preach to a fellow, and bore him. She is awfully fond of
+preaching. Her dream is to jump on a first-rate hunter, and ride across
+country, and preach to the villages. So, when George came grinning to
+me with the letter, I told him to buy a new side-saddle for the gray,
+and take her the lot, with my compliments. I had noticed a slight
+spavin in his near foreleg. She rode him that very day in the park, all
+alone, and made such a sensation that next day my gray was standing in
+Lord Hailey's stables. But she rode Hailey, like my gray, with a long
+spur, and he couldn't stand it. None of 'em could except Sir Charles
+Bassett, and he doesn't play fair--never goes near her."
+
+"And that gives him an unfair advantage over his fascinating
+predecessors?" inquired the senior, slyly.
+
+"Of course it does," said Vandeleur, stoutly. "You ask a girl to dine
+at Richmond once a month, and keep out of her way all the rest of the
+time, and give her lots of money--she will never quarrel with you."
+
+"Profit by this information, young man," said old Woodgate, severely;
+"it comes too late for me. In my day there existed no sure method of
+pleasing the fair. But now that is invented, along with everything
+else. Richmond and--absence, equivalent to 'Richmond and victory!' Now,
+Bassett, we have heard the truth from the fountain-head, and it is
+rather serious. She swears, she kicks, she preaches. Do you still
+desire an introduction? As for me, my manly spirit is beginning to
+quake at Vandeleur's revelations, and some lines of Scott recur to my
+Gothic memory--
+
+"'From the chafed tiger rend his prey, Bar the fell dragon's blighting
+way, But shun that lovely snare."'
+
+Bassett replied, gravely, that he had no such motive as Mr. Woodgate
+gave him credit for, but still desired the introduction.
+
+"With pleasure," said Vandeleur; "but it will be no use to you. She
+hates me like poison; says I have no heart. That is what all
+ill-tempered women say."
+
+Notwithstanding his misgivings the obliging youth called for writing
+materials, and produced the following epistle--
+
+
+
+"DEAR MISS SOMERSET--Mr. Richard Bassett, a cousin of Sir Charles,
+wishes very much to be introduced to you, and has begged me to assist
+in an object so laudable. I should hardly venture to present myself,
+and, therefore, shall feel surprised as well as flattered if you will
+receive Mr. Bassett on my introduction, and my assurance that he is a
+respectable country gentleman, and bears no resemblance in character to
+
+"Yours faithfully,
+
+"ARTHUR VANDELEUR."
+
+
+
+Next day Bassett called at Miss Somerset's house in May Fair, and
+delivered his introduction.
+
+He was admitted after a short delay and entered the lady's boudoir. It
+was Luxury's nest. The walls were rose colored satin, padded and
+puckered; the voluminous curtains were pale satin, with floods and
+billows of real lace; the chairs embroidered, the tables all buhl and
+ormolu, and the sofas felt like little seas. The lady herself, in a
+delightful peignoir, sat nestled cozily in a sort of ottoman with arms.
+Her finely formed hand, clogged with brilliants, was just conveying
+brandy and soda-water to a very handsome mouth when Richard Bassett
+entered.
+
+She raised herself superbly, but without leaving her seat, and just
+looked at a chair in a way that seemed to say, "I permit you to sit
+down;" and that done, she carried the glass to her lips with the same
+admirable firmness of hand she showed in driving. Her lofty manner,
+coupled with her beautiful but rather haughty features, smacked of
+imperial origin. Yet she was the writer to "jorge," and four years ago
+a shrimp-girl, running into the sea with legs as brown as a berry.
+
+So swiftly does merit rise in this world which, nevertheless, some
+morose folk pretend is a wicked one.
+
+I ought to explain, however, that this haughty reception was partly
+caused by a breach of propriety. Vandeleur ought first to have written
+to her and asked permission to present Richard Bassett. He had no
+business to send the man and the introduction together. This law a
+Parliament of Sirens had passed, and the slightest breach of it was a
+bitter offense Equilibrium governs the world. These ladies were bound
+to be overstrict in something or other, being just a little lax in
+certain things where other ladies are strict.
+
+Now Bassett had pondered well what he should say, but he was
+disconcerted by her superb presence and demeanor and her large gray
+eyes, that rested steadily upon his face.
+
+However, he began to murmur mellifluously. Said he had often seen her
+in public, and admired her, and desired to make her acquaintance, etc.,
+etc.
+
+"Then why did you not ask Sir Charles to bring you here?" said Miss
+Somerset, abruptly, and searching him with her eyes, that were not to
+say bold, but singularly brave, and examiners pointblank.
+
+"I am not on good terms with Sir Charles. He holds the estates that
+ought to be mine; and now he has robbed me of my love. He is the last
+man in the world I would ask a favor of."
+
+"You came here to abuse him behind his back, eh?" asked the lady with
+undisguised contempt.
+
+Bassett winced, but kept his temper. "No, Miss Somerset; but you seem
+to think I ought to have come to you through Sir Charles. I would not
+enter your house if I did not feel sure I shall not meet him here."
+
+Miss Somerset looked rather puzzled. "Sir Charles does not come here
+every day, but he comes now and then, and he is always welcome."
+
+"You surprise me."
+
+"Thank you. Now some of my gentlemen friends think it is a wonder he
+does not come every minute."
+
+"You mistake me. What surprises me is that you are such good friends
+under the circumstances."
+
+"Circumstances! what circumstances?"
+
+"Oh, you know. You are in his confidence, I presume?"--this rather
+satirically. So the lady answered, defiantly:
+
+"Yes, I am; he knows I can hold my tongue, so he tells me things he
+tells nobody else."
+
+"Then, if you are in his confidence, you know he is about to be
+married."
+
+"Married! Sir Charles married!"
+
+"In three weeks."
+
+"It's a lie! You get out of my house this moment!"
+
+Mr. Bassett colored at this insult. He rose from his seat with some
+little dignity, made her a low bow, and retired. But her blood was up:
+she made a wonderful rush, sweeping down a chair with her dress as she
+went, and caught him at the door, clutched him by the shoulder and half
+dragged him back, and made him sit down again, while she stood opposite
+him, with the knuckles of one hand resting on the table.
+
+"Now," said she, panting, "you look me in the face and say that again."
+
+"Excuse me; you punish me too severely for telling the truth."
+
+"Well, I beg your pardon--there. Now tell me--this instant. Can't you
+speak, man?" And her knuckles drummed the table.
+
+"He is to be married in three weeks."
+
+"Oh! Who to?"
+
+"A young lady I love."
+
+"Her name?"
+
+"Miss Arabella Bruce."
+
+"Where does she live?"
+
+"Portman Square."
+
+"I'll stop that marriage."
+
+"How?" asked Richard, eagerly.
+
+"I don't know; that I'll think over. But he shall not marry
+her--never!"
+
+Bassett sat and looked up with almost as much awe as complacency at the
+fury he had evoked; for this woman was really at times a poetic
+impersonation of that fiery passion she was so apt to indulge. She
+stood before him, her cheek pale, her eyes glittering and roving
+savagely, and her nostrils literally expanding, while her tall body
+quivered with wrath, and her clinched knuckles pattered on the table.
+
+"He shall not marry her. I'll kill him first!"
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+RICHARD BASSETT eagerly offered his services to break off the obnoxious
+match. But Miss Somerset was beginning to be mortified at having shown
+so much passion before a stranger.
+
+"What have you to do with it?" said she, sharply.
+
+"Everything. I love Miss Bruce."
+
+"Oh, yes; I forgot that. Anything else? There is, now. I see it in your
+eye. What is it?"
+
+ "Sir Charles's estates are mine by right, and they will return to my
+line if he does not marry and have issue."
+
+"Oh, I see. That is so like a man. It's always love, and something more
+important, with you. Well, give me your address. I'll write if I want
+you."
+
+"Highly flattered," said Bassett, ironically-wrote his address and left
+her.
+
+Miss Somerset then sat down and wrote:
+
+
+
+"DEAR SIR CHARLES--please call here, I want to speak to you.
+
+yours respecfuly,
+
+"RHODA SOMERSET."
+
+
+
+Sir Charles obeyed this missive, and the lady received him with a
+gracious and smiling manner, all put on and catlike. She talked with
+him of indifferent things for more than an hour, still watching to see
+if he would tell her of his own accord.
+
+When she was quite sure he would not, she said,
+
+"Do you know there's a ridiculous report about that you are going to be
+married?"
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"They even tell her name--Miss Bruce. Do you know the girl?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is she pretty?"
+
+"Very."
+
+"Modest?"
+
+"As an angel."
+
+"And are you going to marry her?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then you are a villain."
+
+"The deuce I am!"
+
+"You are, to abandon a woman who has sacrificed all for you."
+
+Sir Charles looked puzzled, and then smiled; but was too polite to give
+his thoughts vent. Nor was it necessary; Miss Somerset, whose brave
+eyes never left the person she was speaking to, fired up at the smile
+alone, and she burst into a torrent of remonstrance, not to say
+vituperation. Sir Charles endeavored once or twice to stop it, but it
+was not to be stopped; so at last he quietly took up his hat, to go.
+
+He was arrested at the door by a rustle and a fall. He turned round,
+and there was Miss Somerset lying on her back, grinding her white teeth
+and clutching the air.
+
+He ran to the bell and rang it violently, then knelt down and did his
+best to keep her from hurting herself; but, as generally happens in
+these cases, his interference made her more violent. He had hard work
+to keep her from battering her head against the floor, and her arms
+worked like windmills.
+
+Hearing the bell tugged so violently, a pretty page ran headlong into
+the room--saw--and; without an instant's diminution of speed, described
+a curve, and ran headlong out, screaming "Polly! Polly!"
+
+The next moment the housekeeper, an elderly woman, trotted in at the
+door, saw her mistress's condition, and stood stock-still, calling,
+"Polly," but with the most perfect tranquillity the mind can conceive.
+
+In ran a strapping house-maid, with black eyes and brown arms, went
+down on her knees, and said, firmly though respectfully, "Give her me,
+sir."
+
+She got behind her struggling mistress, pulled her up into her own lap,
+and pinned her by the wrists with a vigorous grasp.
+
+The lady struggled, and ground her teeth audibly, and flung her arms
+abroad. The maid applied all her rustic strength and harder muscle to
+hold her within bounds. The four arms went to and fro in a magnificent
+struggle, and neither could the maid hold the mistress still, nor the
+mistress shake off the maid's grasp, nor strike anything to hurt
+herself.
+
+Sir Charles, thrust out of the play looked on with pity and anxiety,
+and the little page at the door--combining art and nature--stuck
+stock-still in a military attitude, and blubbered aloud.
+
+As for the housekeeper, she remained in the middle of the room with
+folded arms, and looked down on the struggle with a singular expression
+of countenance. There was no agitation whatever, but a sort of
+thoughtful examination, half cynical, half admiring.
+
+However, as soon as the boy's sobs reached her ear she wakened up, and
+said, tenderly, "What is the child crying for? Run and get a basin of
+water, and fling it all over her; that will bring her to in a minute."
+
+The page departed swiftly on this benevolent errand.
+
+Then the lady gave a deep sigh, and ceased to struggle.
+
+Next she stared in all their faces, and seemed to return to
+consciousness.
+
+Next she spoke, but very feebly. "Help me up," she sighed.
+
+Sir Charles and Polly raised her, and now there was a marvelous change.
+The vigorous vixen was utterly weak, and limp as a wet towel--a woman
+of jelly. As such they handled her, and deposited her gingerly on the
+sofa.
+
+Now the page ran in hastily with the water. Up jumps the poor lax
+sufferer, with flashing eyes: "You dare come near me with it!" Then to
+the female servants: "Call yourselves women, and water my lilac silk,
+not two hours old?" Then to the housekeeper: "You old monster, you
+wanted it for your Polly. Get out of my sight, _the lot!"_
+
+Then, suddenly remembering how feeble she was, she sank instantly down,
+and turned piteously and languidly to Sir Charles. "They eat my bread,
+and rob me, and hate me," said she, faintly. "I have but one friend on
+earth." She leaned tenderly toward Sir Charles as that friend; but
+before she quite reached him she started back, her eyes filled with
+sudden horror. "And he forsakes me!" she cried; and so turned away from
+him despairingly, and began to cry bitterly, with head averted over the
+sofa, and one hand hanging by her side for Sir Charles to take and
+comfort her. He tried to take it. It resisted; and, under cover of that
+little disturbance, the other hand dexterously whipped two pins out of
+her hair. The long brown tresses--all her own--fell over her eyes and
+down to her waist, and the picture of distressed beauty was complete.
+
+Even so did the women of antiquity conquer male pity--_"solutis
+crinibus."_
+
+The females interchanged a meaning glance, and retired; then the boy
+followed them with his basin, sore perplexed, but learning life in this
+admirable school.
+
+Sir Charles then, with the utmost kindness, endeavored to reconcile the
+weeping and disheveled fair to that separation which circumstances
+rendered necessary. But she was inconsolable, and he left the house,
+perplexed and grieved; not but what it gratified his vanity a little to
+find himself beloved all in a moment, and the Somerset unvixened. He
+could not help thinking how wide must be the circle of his charms,
+which had won the affections of two beautiful women so opposite in
+character as Bella Bruce and La Somerset.
+
+The passion of this latter seemed to grow. She wrote to him every day,
+and begged him to call on her.
+
+She called on him--she who had never called on a man before.
+
+She raged with jealousy; she melted with grief. She played on him with
+all a woman's artillery; and at last actually wrung from him what she
+called a reprieve.
+
+Richard Bassett called on her, but she would not receive him; so then
+he wrote to her, urging co-operation, and she replied, frankly, that
+she took no interest in his affairs; but that she was devoted to Sir
+Charles, and should keep him for herself. Vanity tempted her to add
+that he (Sir Charles) was with her every day, and the wedding
+postponed.
+
+This last seemed too good to be true, so Richard Bassett set his
+servant to talk to the servants in Portman Square. He learned that the
+wedding was now to be on the 15th of June, instead of the 31st of May.
+
+Convinced that this postponement was only a blind, and that the
+marriage would never be, he breathed more freely at the news.
+
+But the fact is, although Sir Charles had yielded so far to dread of
+scandal, he was ashamed of himself, and his shame became remorse when
+he detected a furtive tear in the dove-like eyes of her he really loved
+and esteemed.
+
+He went and told his trouble to Mr. Oldfield. "I am afraid she will do
+something desperate," he said.
+
+Mr. Oldfield heard him out, and then asked him had he told Miss
+Somerset what he was going to settle on her.
+
+"Not I. She is not in a condition to be influenced by that, at
+present."
+
+"Let me try her. The draft is ready. I'll call on her to-morrow." He
+did call, and was told she did not know him.
+
+"You tell her I am a lawyer, and it is very much to her interest to see
+me," said Mr. Oldfield to the page.
+
+He was admitted, but not to a _tete-a-tete._ Polly was kept in the
+room. The Somerset had peeped, and Oldfield was an old fellow, with
+white hair; if he had been a young fellow, with black hair, she might
+have thought that precaution less necessary.
+
+ "First, madam," said Oldfield, "I must beg you to accept my apologies
+for not coming sooner. Press of business, etc."
+
+"Why have you come at all? That is the question," inquired the lady,
+bluntly.
+
+"I bring the draft of a deed for your approval. Shall I read it to
+you?"
+
+"Yes; if it is not very long." He began to read it. The lady
+interrupted him characteristically.
+
+"It's a beastly rigmarole. What does it mean--in three words?"
+
+"Sir Charles Bassett secures to Rhoda Somerset four hundred pounds a
+year, while single; this is reduced to two hundred if you marry. The
+deed further assigns to you, without reserve, the beneficial lease of
+this house, and all the furniture and effects, plate, linen, wine,
+etc."
+
+"I see--a bribe."
+
+"Nothing of the kind, madam. When Sir Charles instructed me to prepare
+this deed he expected no opposition on your part to his marriage; but
+he thought it due to him and to yourself to mark his esteem for you,
+and his recollection of the pleasant hours he has spent in your
+company."
+
+Miss Somerset's eyes searched the lawyer's face. He stood the battery
+unflinchingly. She altered her tone, and asked, politely and almost
+respectfully, whether she might see that paper.
+
+Mr. Oldfield gave it her. She took it, and ran her eye over it; in
+doing which, she raised it so that she could think behind it
+unobserved. She handed it back at last, with the remark that Sir
+Charles was a gentleman and had done the right thing.
+
+"He has; and you will do the right thing too, will you not?"
+
+"I don't know. I am just beginning to fall in love with him myself."
+
+"Jealousy, madam, not love," said the old lawyer. "Come, now! I see you
+are a young lady of rare good sense; look the thing in the face: Sir
+Charles is a landed gentleman; he must marry, and, have heirs. He is
+over thirty, and his time has come. He has shown himself your friend;
+why not be his? He has given you the means to marry a gentleman of
+moderate income, or to marry beneath you, if you prefer it--"
+
+"And most of us do--"
+
+"Then why not make his path smooth? Why distress him with your tears
+and remonstrances?"
+
+He continued in this strain for some time, appealing to her good sense
+and her better feelings.
+
+When he had done she said, very quietly, "How about the ponies and my
+brown mare? Are they down in the deed?"
+
+"I think not; but if you will do your part handsomely I'll guarantee
+you shall have them."
+
+"You are a good soul." Then, after a pause, "Now just you tell me
+exactly what you want me to do for all this."
+
+Oldfield was pleased with this question. He said, "I wish you to
+abstain from writing to Sir Charles, and him to visit you only once
+more before his marriage, just to shake hands and part, with mutual
+friendship and good wishes."
+
+"You are right," said she, softly; "best for us both, and only fair to
+the girl." Then, with sudden and eager curiosity, "Is she very pretty?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"What, hasn't he told you?"
+
+"He says she is lovely, and every way adorable; but then he is in love.
+The chances are she is not half so handsome as yourself."
+
+"And yet he is in love with her?"
+
+"Over head and ears."
+
+"I don't believe it. If he was really in love with one woman he
+couldn't be just to another. _I_ couldn't. He'll be coming back to me
+in a few months."
+
+"God forbid!"
+
+"Thank you, old gentleman."
+
+Mr. Oldfield began to stammer excuses. She interrupted him: "Oh, bother
+all that; I like you none the worse for speaking your mind." Then,
+after a pause, "Now excuse me; but suppose Sir Charles should change
+his mind, and never sign this paper?"
+
+"I pledge my professional credit."
+
+"That is enough, sir; I see I can trust you. Well, then, I consent to
+break off with Sir Charles, and only see him once more--as a friend.
+Poor Sir Charles! I hope he will be happy" (she squeezed out a tear for
+him)--"happier than I am. And when he does come he can sign the deed,
+you know."
+
+Mr. Oldfield left her, and joined Sir Charles at Long's, as had been
+previously agreed.
+
+"It is all right, Sir Charles; she is a sensible girl, and will give
+you no further trouble."
+
+"How did you get over the hysterics?"
+
+"We dispensed with them. She saw at once it was to be business, not
+sentiment. You are to pay her one more visit, to sign, and part
+friends. If you please, I'll make that appointment with both parties,
+as soon as the deed is engrossed. Oh, by-the-by, she did shed a tear or
+two, but she dried them to ask me for the ponies and the brown mare."
+
+Sir Charles's vanity was mortified. But he laughed it off, and said she
+should have them, of course.
+
+So now his mind was at ease, his conscience was at rest, and he could
+give his whole time where he had given his heart.
+
+Richard Bassett learned, through his servant, that the wedding-dresses
+were ordered. He called on Miss Somerset. She was out.
+
+Polly opened the door and gave him a look of admiration--due to his
+fresh color--that encouraged him to try and enlist her in his service.
+
+He questioned her, and she told him in a general way how matters were
+going. "But," said she, "why not come and talk to her yourself? Ten to
+one but she tells you. She is pretty outspoken."
+
+"My pretty dear," said Richard, "she never will receive me."
+
+"Oh, but I'll make her!" said Polly.
+
+And she did exert her influence as follows:
+
+"Lookee here, the cousin's a-coming to-morrow and I've been and
+promised he should see you."
+
+"What did you do that for?"
+
+"Why, he's a well-looking chap, and a beautiful color, fresh from the
+country, like me. And he's a gentleman, and got an estate belike; and
+why not put yourn to hisn, and so marry him and be a lady? You might
+have me about ye all the same, till my turn comes."
+
+"No, no," said Rhoda; "that's not the man for me. If ever I marry, it
+must be one of my own sort, or else a fool, like Marsh, that I can make
+a slave of."
+
+"Well, any way, you must see him, not to make a fool of _me,_ for I did
+promise him; which, now I think on't, 'twas very good of me, for I
+could find in my heart to ask him down into the kitchen, instead of
+bringing him upstairs to you."
+
+All this ended, somehow, in Mr. Bassett's being admitted.
+
+To his anxious inquiry how matters stood, she replied coolly that Sir
+Charles and herself were parted by mutual consent.
+
+"What! after all your protestations?" said Bassett, bitterly.
+
+But Miss Somerset was not in an irascible humor just then. She shrugged
+her shoulders, and said:
+
+"Yes, I remember I put myself in a passion, and said some ridiculous
+things. But one can't be always a fool. I have come to my senses. This
+sort of thing always does end, you know. Most of them part enemies, but
+he and I part friends and well-wishers."
+
+"And you throw _me_ over as if I was nobody," said Richard, white with
+anger.
+
+"Why, what are you to me?" said the Somerset. "Oh, I see. You thought
+to make a cat's-paw of me. Well, you won't, then."
+
+"In other words, you have been bought off."
+
+"No, I have not. I am not to be bought by anybody--and I am not to be
+insulted by you, you ruffian! How dare you come here and affront a lady
+in her own house--a lady whose shoestrings your betters are ready to
+tie, you brute? If you want to be a landed proprietor, go and marry
+some ugly old hag that's got it, and no eyesight left to see you're no
+gentleman. Sir Charles's land you'll never have; a better man has got
+it, and means to keep it for him and his. Here, Polly! Polly! Polly!
+take this man down to the kitchen, and teach him manners if you can: he
+is not fit for my drawing-room, by a long chalk."
+
+Polly arrived in time to see the flashing eyes, the swelling veins, and
+to hear the fair orator's peroration.
+
+"What, you are in your tantrums again!" said she. "Come along, sir.
+Needs must when the devil drives. You'll break a blood-vessel some day,
+my lady, like your father afore ye."
+
+And with this homely suggestion, which always sobered Miss Somerset,
+and, indeed, frightened her out of her wits, she withdrew the offender.
+She did not take him into the kitchen, but into the dining-room, and
+there he had a long talk with her, and gave her a sovereign.
+
+She promised to inform him if anything important should occur.
+
+He went away, pondering and scowling deeply.
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+SIR CHARLES BASSETT was now living in Elysium. Never was rake more
+thoroughly transformed. Every day he sat for hours at the feet of Bella
+Bruce, admiring her soft, feminine ways and virgin modesty even more
+than her beauty. And her visible blush whenever he appeared suddenly,
+and the soft commotion and yielding in her lovely frame whenever he
+drew near, betrayed his magnetic influence, and told all but the blind
+she adored him.
+
+She would decline all invitations to dine with him and her father--a
+strong-minded old admiral, whose authority was unbounded, only, to
+Bella's regret, very rarely exerted. Nothing would have pleased her
+more than to be forbidden this and commanded that; but no! the admiral
+was a lion with an enormous paw, only he could not be got to put it
+into every pie.
+
+In this charming society the hours glided, and the wedding-day drew
+close. So deeply and sincerely was Sir Charles in love that when Mr.
+Oldfield's letter came, appointing the day and hour to sign Miss
+Somerset's deed, he was unwilling to go, and wrote back to ask if the
+deed could not be sent to his house.
+
+Mr. Oldfield replied that the parties to the deed and the witnesses
+must meet, and it would be unadvisable, for several reasons, to
+irritate the lady's susceptibility previous to signature; the
+appointment having been made at her house, it had better remain so.
+
+That day soon came.
+
+Sir Charles, being due in Mayfair at 2 P.M., compensated himself for
+the less agreeable business to come by going earlier than usual to
+Portman Square. By this means he caught Miss Bruce and two other young
+ladies inspecting bridal dresses. Bella blushed and looked ashamed,
+and, to the surprise of her friends, sent the dresses away, and set
+herself to talk rationally with Sir Charles--as rationally as lovers
+can.
+
+The ladies took the cue, and retired in disgust.
+
+Sir Charles apologized.
+
+"This is too bad of me. I come at an unheard-of hour, and frighten away
+your fair friends; but the fact is, I have an appointment at two, and I
+don't know how long they will keep me, so I thought I would make sure
+of two happy hours at the least."
+
+And delightful hours they were. Bella Bruce, excited by this little
+surprise, leaned softly on his shoulder, and prattled her maiden love
+like some warbling fountain.
+
+Sir Charles, transfigured by love, answered her in kind--three months
+ago he could not--and they compared pretty little plans of wedded life,
+and had small differences, and ended by agreeing.
+
+Complete and prompt accord upon two points: first, they would not have
+a single quarrel, like other people; their love should never lose its
+delicate bloom; second, they would grow old together, and die the same
+day--the same minute if possible; if not, they must be content with the
+same day, but, on that, inexorable.
+
+But soon after this came a skirmish. Each wanted to obey t'other.
+
+Sir Charles argued that Bella was better than he, and therefore more
+fit to conduct the pair.
+
+Bella, who thought him divinely good, pounced on this reason furiously.
+He defended it. He admitted, with exemplary candor, that he was good
+now--"awfully good." But he assured her that he had been anything but
+good until he knew her; now she had been always good; therefore, he
+argued, as his goodness came originally from her, for her to obey him
+would be a little too much like the moon commanding the sun.
+
+"That is too ingenious for me, Charles," said Bella. "And, for shame!
+Nobody was ever so good as you are. I look up to you and--Now I could
+stop your mouth in a minute. I have only to remind you that I shall
+swear at the altar to obey you, and you will not swear to obey me. But
+I will not crush you under the Prayer-book--no, dearest; but, indeed,
+to obey is a want of my nature, and I marry you to supply that want:
+and that's a story, for I marry you because I love and honor and
+worship and adore you to distraction, my own--own--own!" With this she
+flung herself passionately, yet modestly on his shoulder, and, being
+there, murmured, coaxingly, "You will let me obey you, Charles?"
+
+Thereupon Sir Charles felt highly gelatinous, and lost, for the moment,
+all power of resistance or argument.
+
+"Ah, you will; and then you will remind me of my dear mother. She knew
+how to command; but as for poor dear papa, he is very disappointing. In
+selecting an admiral for my parent, I made sure of being ordered about.
+Instead of that--now I'll show you--there he is in the next room,
+inventing a new system of signals, poor dear--"
+
+She threw the folding-doors open.
+
+"Papa dear, shall I ask Charles to dinner to-day?"
+
+"As you please, my dear."
+
+"Do you think I had better walk or ride this afternoon?"
+
+"Whichever you prefer."
+
+"There," said Bella, "I told you so. That is always the way. Papa dear,
+you used always to be firing guns at sea. Do, please, fire one in this
+house--just one--before I leave it, and make the very windows rattle."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Bella; I never wasted powder at sea. If the convoy
+sailed well and steered right I never barked at them. You are a modest,
+sensible girl, and have always steered a good course. Why should I
+hoist a petticoat and play the small tyrant? Wait till I see you going
+to do something wrong or silly."
+
+"Ah! then you _would_ fire a gun, papa?"
+
+"Ay, a broadside."
+
+"Well, that is something," said Bella, as she closed the door softly.
+
+"No, no; it amounts to just nothing," said Sir Charles; "for you never
+will do anything wrong or silly. I'll accommodate you. I have thought
+of a way. I shall give you some blank cards; you shall write on them,
+'I think I should like to do so and so.' You shall be careless, and
+leave them about; I'll find them, and bluster, and say, 'I command you
+to do so and so, Bella Bassett'--the very thing on the card, you know."
+
+Bella colored to the brow with pleasure and modesty. After a pause she
+said: "How sweet! The worst of it is, I should get my own way. Now what
+I want is to submit my will to yours. A gentle tyrant--that is what you
+must be to Bella Bassett. Oh, you sweet, sweet, for calling me that!"
+
+These projects were interrupted by a servant announcing luncheon. This
+made Sir Charles look hastily at his watch, and he found it was past
+two o'clock.
+
+"How time flies in this house!" said he. "I must go, dearest; I am
+behind my appointment already. What do you do this afternoon?"
+
+"Whatever you please, my own."
+
+"I could get away by four."
+
+"Then I will stay at home for you."
+
+He left her reluctantly, and she followed him to the head of the
+stairs, and hung over the balusters as if she would like to fly after
+him.
+
+He turned at the street-door, saw that radiant and gentle face beaming
+after him, and they kissed hands to each other by one impulse, as if
+they were parting for ever so long.
+
+He had gone scarcely half an hour when a letter, addressed to her, was
+left at the door by a private messenger.
+
+"Any answer?" inquired the servant.
+
+"No."
+
+The letter was sent up, and delivered to her on a silver salver.
+
+She opened it; it was a thing new to her in her young life--an
+anonymous letter.
+
+
+
+"MISS BRUCE--I am almost a stranger to you, but I know your character
+from others, and cannot bear to see you abused. You are said to be
+about to marry Sir Charles Bassett. I think you can hardly be aware
+that he is connected with a lady of doubtful repute, called Somerset,
+and neither your beauty nor your virtue has prevailed to detach him
+from that connection.
+
+"If, on engaging himself to you, he had abandoned her, I should not
+have said a word. But the truth is, he visits her constantly, and I
+blush to say that when he leaves you this day it will be to spend the
+afternoon at her house.
+
+"I inclose you her address, and you can learn in ten minutes whether I
+am a slanderer or, what I wish to be,
+
+"A FRIEND OF INJURED INNOCENCE."
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+SIR CHARLES was behind his time in Mayfair; but the lawyer and his
+clerk had not arrived, and Miss Somerset was not visible.
+
+She appeared, however, at last, in a superb silk dress, the broad
+luster of which would have been beautiful, only the effect was broken
+and frittered away by six rows of gimp and fringe. But why blame her?
+This is a blunder in art as universal as it is amazing, when one
+considers the amount of apparent thought her sex devotes to dress. They
+might just as well score a fair plot of velvet turf with rows of box,
+or tattoo a blooming and downy cheek.
+
+She held out her hand, like a man, and talked to Sir Charles on
+indifferent topics, till Mr. Oldfield arrived. She then retired into
+the background, and left the gentlemen to discuss the deed. When
+appealed to, she evaded direct replies, and put on languid and imperial
+indifference. When she signed, it was with the air of some princess
+bestowing a favor upon solicitation.
+
+But the business concluded, she thawed all in a moment, and invited the
+gentlemen to luncheon with charming cordiality. Indeed, her genuine
+_bonhomie_ after her affected indifference was rather comic. Everybody
+was content. Champagne flowed. The lady, with her good mother-wit, kept
+conversation going till the lawyer was nearly missing his next
+appointment. He hurried away; and Sir Charles only lingered, out of
+good-breeding, to bid Miss Somerset good-by. In the course of
+leave-taking he said he was sorry he left her with people about her of
+whom he had a bad opinion. "Those women have no more feeling for you
+than stones. When you lay in convulsions, your housekeeper looked on as
+philosophically as if you had been two kittens at play--you and Polly."
+
+"I saw her."
+
+"Indeed! You appeared hardly in a condition to see anything."
+
+"I did, though, and heard the old wretch tell the young monkey to water
+my lilac dress. That was to get it for her Polly. She knew I'd never
+wear it afterward."
+
+"Then why don't you turn her off?"
+
+"Who'd take such a useless old hag, if I turned her off?"
+
+"You carry a charity a long way."
+
+"I carry everything. What's the use doing things by halves, good or
+bad?"
+
+"Well, but that Polly! She is young enough to get her living elsewhere;
+and she is extremely disrespectful to you."
+
+"That she is. If I wasn't a lady, I'd have given her a good hiding this
+very day for her cheek!"
+
+"Then why not turn her off this very day for her cheek?"
+
+"Well, I'll tell you, since you and I are parted forever. No, I don't
+like."
+
+"Oh, come! No secrets between friends."
+
+"Well, then, the old hag is--my mother."
+
+"What?"
+
+"And the young jade--is my sister."
+
+"Good Heavens!"
+
+"And the page--is my little brother."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"What, you are not angry?"
+
+"Angry? no. Ha, ha, ha!"
+
+"See what a hornets' nest you have escaped from. My dear friend, those
+two women rob me through thick and thin. They steal my handkerchiefs,
+and my gloves, and my very linen. They drink my wine like fishes.
+They'd take the hair off my head, if it wasn't fast by the roots--for a
+wonder."
+
+"Why not give them a ten-pound note and send them home?"
+
+"They'd pocket the note, and blacken me in our village. That was why I
+had them up here. First time I went home, after running about with that
+little scamp, Vandeleur--do you know him?"
+
+"I have not the honor."
+
+"Then your luck beats mine. One thing, he is going to the dogs as fast
+as he can. Some day he'll come begging to me for a fiver. You mark my
+words now."
+
+"Well, but you were saying--"
+
+"Yes, I went off about Van. Polly _says_ I've a mind like running
+water. Well, then, when I went home the first time--after Van, mother
+and Polly raised a virtuous howl. 'All right,' said I--for, of course,
+I know how much virtue there is under _their_ skins. Virtue of the
+lower orders! Tell that to gentlefolks that don't know them. I do. I've
+been one of 'em--'I know all about that,' says I. 'You want to share
+the plunder, that is the sense of your virtuous cry.' So I had 'em up
+here; and then there was no more virtuous howling, but a deal of
+virtuous thieving, and modest drinking, and pure-minded selling of my
+street-door to the highest male bidder. And they will corrupt the boy;
+and if they do, I'll cuts their black hearts out with my riding-whip.
+But I suppose I must keep them on; they are my own flesh and blood; and
+if I was to be ill and dying, they'd do all they knew to keep me
+alive--for their own sakes. I'm their milch cow, these country
+innocents."
+
+Sir Charles groaned aloud, and said, "My poor girl, you deserve a
+better fate than this. Marry some honest fellow, and cut the whole
+thing."
+
+"I'll see about it. You try it first, and let us see how you like it."
+
+And so they parted gayly.
+
+In the hall, Polly intercepted him, all smiles. He looked at her,
+smiled in his sleeve, and gave her a handsome present. "If you please,
+sir," said she, "an old gentleman called for you."
+
+"When?"
+
+"About an hour ago. Leastways, he asked if Sir Charles Bassett was
+there. I said yes, but you wouldn't see no one."
+
+"Who could it be? Why, surely you never told anybody I was to be here
+to-day?"
+
+"La, no, sir! how could I?" said Polly, with a face of brass.
+
+Sir Charles thought this very odd, and felt a little uneasy about it.
+All to Portman Square he puzzled over it; and at last he was driven to
+the conclusion that Miss Somerset had been weak enough to tell some
+person, male or female, of the coming interview, and so somebody had
+called there--doubtless to ask him a favor.
+
+At five o'clock he reached Portman Square, and was about to enter, as a
+matter of course; but the footman stopped him. "I beg pardon, Sir
+Charles," said the man, looking pale and agitated; "but I have strict
+orders. My young lady is very ill."
+
+"Ill! Let me go to her this instant."
+
+"I daren't, Sir Charles, I daren't. I know you are a gentleman; pray
+don't lose me my place. You would never get to see her. We none of us
+know the rights, but there's something up. Sorry to say it, Sir
+Charles, but we have strict orders not to admit you. Haven't you the
+admiral's letter, sir?"
+
+"No; what letter?"
+
+"He has been after you, sir; and when he came back he sent Roger off to
+your house with a letter."
+
+A cold chill began to run down Sir Charles Bassett. He hailed a passing
+hansom, and drove to his own house to get the admiral's letter; and as
+he went he asked himself, with chill misgivings, what on earth had
+happened.
+
+What had happened shall be told the reader precisely but briefly. .
+
+In the first place, Bella had opened the anonymous letter and read its
+contents, to which the reader is referred.
+
+There are people who pretend to despise anonymous letters. Pure
+delusion! they know they ought to, and so fancy they do; but they
+don't. The absence of a signature gives weight, if the letter is ably
+written and seems true.
+
+As for poor Bella Bruce, a dove's bosom is no more fit to rebuff a
+poisoned arrow than she was to combat that foulest and direst of all a
+miscreant's weapons, an anonymous letter. She, in her goodness and
+innocence, never dreamed that any person she did not know could
+possibly tell a lie to wound her. The letter fell on her like a cruel
+revelation from heaven.
+
+The blow was so savage that, at first, it stunned her.
+
+She sat pale and stupefied; but beneath the stupor were the rising
+throbs of coming agonies.
+
+After that horrible stupor her anguish grew and grew, till it found
+vent in a miserable cry, rising, and rising, and rising, in agony.
+
+"Mamma! mamma! mamma!"
+
+Yes; her mother had been dead these three years, and her father sat in
+the next room; yet, in her anguish, she cried to her mother--a cry the
+which, if your mother had heard, she would have expected Bella's to
+come to her even from the grave.
+
+Admiral Bruce heard this fearful cry--the living calling on the
+dead--and burst through the folding-doors in a moment, white as a
+ghost.
+
+He found his daughter writhing on the sofa, ghastly, and grinding in
+her hand the cursed paper that had poisoned her young life.
+
+"My child! my child!"
+
+"Oh, papa! see! see!" And she tried to open the letter for him, but her
+hands trembled so she could not.
+
+He kneeled down by her side, the stout old warrior, and read the
+letter, while she clung to him, moaning now, and quivering all over
+from head to foot.
+
+"Why, there's no signature! The writer is a coward and, perhaps, a
+liar. Stop! he offers a test. I'll put him to it this minute."
+
+He laid the moaning girl on the sofa, ordered his servants to admit
+nobody into the house, and drove at once to Mayfair.
+
+He called at Miss Somerset's house, saw Polly, and questioned her.
+
+He drove home again, and came into the drawing-room looking as he had
+been seen to look when fighting his ship; but his daughter had never
+seen him so. "My girl," said he, solemnly, "there's nothing for you to
+do but to be brave, and hide your grief as well as you can, for the man
+is unworthy of your love. That coward spoke the truth. He is there at
+this moment."
+
+"Oh, papa! papa! let me die! The world is too wicked for me. Let me
+die!"
+
+"Die for an unworthy object? For shame! Go to your own room, my girl,
+and pray to your God to help you, since your mother has left us. Oh,
+how I miss her now! Go and pray, and let no one else know what we
+suffer. Be your father's daughter. Fight and pray."
+
+Poor Bella had no longer to complain that she was not commanded. She
+kissed him, and burst into a great passion of weeping; but he led her
+to the door, and she tottered to her own room, a blighted girl.
+
+The sight of her was harrowing. Under its influence the admiral dashed
+off a letter to Sir Charles, calling him a villain, and inviting him to
+go to France and let an indignant father write scoundrel on his
+carcass.
+
+But when he had written this his good sense and dignity prevailed over
+his fury; he burned the letter, and wrote another. This he sent by hand
+to Sir Charles's house, and ordered his servants--but that the reader
+knows.
+
+Sir Charles found the admiral's letter in his letter-rack. It ran thus:
+
+
+
+"SIR--We have learned your connection with a lady named Somerset, and I
+have ascertained that you went from my daughter to her house this very
+day.
+
+"Miss Bruce and myself withdraw from all connection with you, and I
+must request you to attempt no communication with her of any kind. Such
+an attempt would be an additional insult.
+
+"I am, sir, your obedient servant,
+
+"JOHN URQUHART BRUCE."
+
+
+
+At first Sir Charles Bassett was stunned by this blow. Then his mind
+resisted the admiral's severity, and he was indignant at being
+dismissed for so common an offense. This gave way to deep grief and
+shame at the thought of Bella and her lost esteem. But soon all other
+feelings merged for a time in fury at the heartless traitor who had
+destroyed his happiness, and had dashed the cup of innocent love from
+his very lips. Boiling over with mortification and rage, he drove at
+once to that traitor's house. Polly opened the door. He rushed past
+her, and burst into the dining-room, breathless, and white with
+passion.
+
+He found Miss Somerset studying the deed by which he had made her
+independent for life. She started at his strange appearance, and
+instinctively put both hands flat upon the deed.
+
+"You vile wretch!" cried Sir Charles. "You heartless monster! Enjoy
+your work." And he flung her the admiral's letter. But he did not wait
+while she read it; he heaped reproaches on her; and, for the first time
+in her life, she did not reply in kind.
+
+"Are you mad?" she faltered. "What have I done?"
+
+"You have told Admiral Bruce."
+
+"That's false."
+
+"You told him I was to be here to-day."
+
+"Charles, I never did. Believe me."
+
+"You did. Nobody knew it but you. He was here to-day at the very hour."
+
+"May I never get up alive off this chair if I told a soul. Yes, our
+Polly. I'll ring for her."
+
+"No, you will not. She is your sister. Do you think I'll take the word
+of such reptiles against the plain fact? You have parted my love and
+me--parted us on the very day I had made you independent for life. An
+innocent love was waiting to bless me, and an honest love was in your
+power, thanks to me, your kind, forgiving friend and benefactor. I have
+heaped kindness on you from the first moment I had the misfortune to
+know you. I connived at your infidelities--"
+
+"Charles! Don't say that. I never _was."_
+
+"I indulged your most expensive whims, and, instead of leaving you with
+a curse, as all the rest did that ever knew you, and as you deserve, I
+bought your consent to lead a respectable life, and be blessed with a
+virtuous love. You took the bribe, but robbed me of the
+blessing--viper! You have destroyed me, body and soul--monster! perhaps
+blighted her happiness as well; you she-devils hate an angel worse than
+Heaven hates you. But you shall suffer with us; not your heart, for you
+have none, but your pocket. You have broken faith with me, and sent all
+my happiness to hell; I'll send your deed to hell after it!" With this,
+he flung himself upon the deed, and was going to throw it into the
+fire. Now up to that moment she had been overpowered by this man's
+fury, whom she had never seen the least angry before; but when he laid
+hands on her property it acted like an electric shock. "No! no!" she
+screamed, and sprang at him like a wildcat.
+
+Then ensued a violent and unseemly struggle all about the room; chairs
+were upset, and vases broken to pieces; and the man and woman dragged
+each other to and fro, one fighting for her property, as if it was her
+life, and the other for revenge.
+
+Sir Charles, excited by fury, was stronger than himself, and at last
+shook off one of her hands for a moment, and threw the deed into the
+fire. She tried to break from him and save it, but he held her like
+iron.
+
+Yet not for long. While he was holding her back, and she straining
+every nerve to get to the fire, he began to show sudden symptoms of
+distress. He gasped loudly, and cried, "Oh! oh! I'm choking!" and then
+his clutch relaxed. She tore herself from it, and, plunging forward,
+rescued the smoking parchment.
+
+At that moment she heard a great stagger behind her, and a pitiful
+moan, and Sir Charles fell heavily, striking his head against the edge
+of the sofa. She looked round--as she knelt, and saw him, black in the
+face, rolling his eyeballs fearfully, while his teeth gnashed awfully,
+and a little jet of foam flew through his lips.
+
+Then she shrieked with terror, and the blackened deed fell from her
+hands. At this moment Polly rushed into the room. She saw the fearful
+sight, and echoed her sister's scream. But they were neither of them
+women to lose their heads and beat the air with their hands. They got
+to him, and both of them fought hard with the unconscious sufferer,
+whose body, in a fresh convulsion, now bounded away from the sofa, and
+bade fair to batter itself against the ground.
+
+They did all they could to hold him with one arm apiece, and to release
+his swelling throat with the other. Their nimble fingers whipped off
+his neck-tie in a moment; but the distended windpipe pressed so against
+the shirt-button they could not undo it. Then they seized the collar,
+and, pulling against each other, wrenched the shirt open so powerfully
+that the button flew into the air, and tinkled against a mirror a long
+way off.
+
+A few more struggles, somewhat less violent, and then the face, from
+purple, began to whiten, the eyeballs fixed; the pulse went down; the
+man lay still.
+
+"Oh, my God!" cried Rhoda Somerset. "He is dying! To the nearest
+doctor! There's one three doors off. No bonnet! It's life and death
+this moment. Fly!"
+
+Polly obeyed, and Doctor Andrews was actually in the room within five
+minutes.
+
+He looked grave, and kneeled down by the patient, and felt his pulse
+anxiously.
+
+Miss Somerset sat down, and, being from the country, though she did not
+look it, began to weep bitterly, and rock herself in rustic fashion.
+
+The doctor questioned her kindly, and she told him, between her sobs,
+how Sir Charles had been taken.
+
+The doctor, however, instead of being alarmed by those frightful
+symptoms she related, took a more cheerful view directly. "Then do not
+alarm yourself unnecessarily," he said. "It was only an epileptic fit."
+
+"Only!" sobbed Miss Somerset. "Oh, if you had seen him! And he lies
+like death."
+
+"Yes," said Dr. Andrews; "a severe epileptic fit is really a terrible
+thing to look at; but it is not dangerous in proportion. Is he used to
+have them?"
+
+"Oh, no, doctor--never had one before."
+
+Here she was mistaken, I think.
+
+"You must keep him quiet; and give him a moderate stimulant as soon as
+he can swallow comfortably; the quietest room in the house; and don't
+let him be hungry, night or day. Have food by his bedside, and watch
+him for a day or two. I'll come again this evening."
+
+The doctor went to his dinner--tranquil.
+
+Not so those he left. Miss Somerset resigned her own luxurious bedroom,
+and had the patient laid, just as he was, upon her bed. She sent the
+page out to her groom and ordered two loads of straw to be laid before
+the door; and she watched by the sufferer, with brandy and water by her
+side.
+
+Sir Charles now might have seemed to be in a peaceful slumber, but for
+his eyes. They were open, and showed more white, and less pupil, than
+usual.
+
+However, in time he began to sigh and move, and even mutter; and,
+gradually, some little color came back to his pale cheeks.
+
+Then Miss Somerset had the good sense to draw back out of his sight,
+and order Polly to take her place by his side. Polly did so, and, some
+time afterward, at a fresh order, put a teaspoonful of brandy to his
+lips, which were still pale and even bluish.
+
+The doctor returned, and brought his assistant. They put the patient to
+bed.
+
+"His life is in no danger," said he. "I wish I was as sure about his
+reason."
+
+
+
+At one o'clock in the morning, as Polly was snoring by the patient's
+bedside, a hand was laid on her shoulder. It was Rhoda.
+
+"Go to bed, Polly: you are no use here."
+
+"You'd be sleepy if you worked as hard as I do."
+
+"Very likely," said Rhoda, with a gentleness that struck Polly as very
+singular. "Good-night."
+
+Rhoda spent the night watching, and thinking harder than she had ever
+thought before.
+
+Next morning, early, Polly came into the sick-room. There sat her
+sister watching the patient, out of sight.
+
+"La, Rhoda! Have you sat there all night?"
+
+"Yes. Don't speak so loud. Come here. You've set your heart on this
+lilac silk. I'll give it to you for your black merino."
+
+"Not you, my lady; you are not so fond of mereeny, nor of me neither."
+
+"I'm not a liar like you," said the other, becoming herself for a
+moment, "and what I say I'll do. You put out your merino for me in the
+dressing-room."
+
+"All right," said Polly, joyfully.
+
+"And bring me two buckets of water instead of one. I have never closed
+my eyes."
+
+"Poor soul! and now you be going to sluice yourself all the same.
+Whatever you can see in cold water, to run after it so, I can't think.
+If I was to flood myself like you, it would soon float me to my long
+home."
+
+"How do you know? _You never gave it a trial._ Come, no more chat. Give
+me my bath: and then you may wash yourself in a tea-cup if you
+like--only don't wash my spoons in the same water, for _mercy's sake!"_
+
+Thus affectionately stimulated in her duties, Polly brought cold water
+galore, and laid out her new merino dress. In this sober suit, with
+plain linen collar and cuffs, the Somerset dressed herself, and resumed
+her watching by the bedside. She kept more than ever out of sight, for
+the patient was now beginning to mutter incoherently, yet in a way that
+showed his clouded faculties were dwelling on the calamity which had
+befallen him.
+
+About noon the bell was rung sharply, and, on Polly entering, Rhoda
+called her to the window and showed her two female figures plodding
+down the street. "Look," said she. "Those are the only women I envy.
+Sisters of Charity. Run you after them, and take a good look at those
+beastly ugly caps: then come and tell me how to make one."
+
+"Here's a go!" said Polly; but executed the commission promptly.
+
+It needed no fashionable milliner to turn a yard of linen into one of
+those ugly caps, which are beautiful banners of Christian charity and
+womanly tenderness to the sick and suffering. The monster cap was made
+in an hour, and Miss Somerset put it on, and a thick veil, and then she
+no longer thought it necessary to sit out of the patient's sight.
+
+The consequence was that, in the middle of his ramblings, he broke off
+and looked at her. The sister puzzled him. At last he called to her in
+French.
+
+She made no reply.
+
+"Je suis a l'hopital, n'est ce pas bonne soeur?"
+
+"I am English," said she, softly.
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+"ENGLISH!" said Sir Charles. "Then tell me, how did I come here? Where
+am I?"
+
+"You had a fit, and the doctor ordered you to be kept quiet; and I am
+here to nurse you."
+
+"A fit! Ay, I remember. That vile woman!"
+
+"Don't think of her: give your mind to getting well: remember, there is
+somebody who would break her heart if you--"
+
+"Oh, my poor Bella! my sweet, timid, modest, loving Bella!" He was so
+weakened that he cried like a child.
+
+Miss Somerset rose, and laid her forehead sadly upon the window-sill.
+
+"Why do I cry for her, like a great baby?" muttered Sir Charles. "She
+wouldn't cry for me. She has cast me off in a moment."
+
+"Not she. It is her father's doing. Have a little patience. The whole
+thing shall be explained to them; and then she will soon soften the old
+man. 'It is not as if you were really to blame."
+
+"No more I was. It is all that vile woman."
+
+"Oh, don't! She is so sorry; she has taken it all to heart. She had
+once shammed a fit, on the very place; and when you had a real fit
+there--on the very spot--oh, it was so fearful--and lay like one dead,
+she saw God's finger, and it touched her hard heart. Don't say anything
+more against her just now. She is trying so hard to be good. And,
+besides, it is all a mistake: she never told that old admiral; she
+never breathed a word out of her own house. Her own people have
+betrayed her and you. She has made me promise two things: to find out
+who told the admiral, and--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"The second thing I have to do--Well, that is a secret between me and
+that unhappy woman. She is bad enough, but not so heartless as you
+think."
+
+Sir Charles shook his head incredulously, but said no more; and soon
+after fell asleep.
+
+In the evening he woke, and found the Sister watching.
+
+She now turned her head away from him, and asked him quietly to
+describe Miss Bella Bruce to her.
+
+He described her in minute and glowing terms. "But oh, Sister," said
+he, "it is not her beauty only, but the beauty of her mind. So gentle,
+so modest, so timid, so docile. She would never have had the heart to
+turn me off. But she will obey her father. She looked forward to obey
+me, sweet dove."
+
+"Did she say so?"
+
+"Yes, that is her dream of happiness, to obey."
+
+The Sister still questioned him with averted head, and he told her what
+had passed between Bella and him the last time he saw her, and all
+their innocent plans of married happiness. He told her, with the tear
+in his eye, and she listened, with the tear in hers. "And then," said
+he, laying his hand on her shoulder, "is it not hard? I just went to
+Mayfair, not to please myself, but to do an act of justice--of more
+than justice; and then, for that, to have her door shut in my face.
+Only two hours between the height of happiness and the depth of
+misery."
+
+The Sister said nothing, but she hid her face in her hands, and
+thought.
+
+The next morning, by her order, Polly came into the room, and said,
+"You are to go home. The carriage is at the door." With this she
+retired, and Sir Charles's valet entered the room soon after to help
+him dress.
+
+"Where am I, James?"
+
+"Miss Somerset's house, Sir Charles."
+
+"Then get me out of it directly."
+
+"Yes, Sir Charles. The carriage is at the door."
+
+"Who told you to come, James?"
+
+"Miss Somerset, Sir Charles."
+
+"That is odd."
+
+"Yes, Sir Charles."
+
+
+
+When he got home he found a sofa placed by a fire, with wraps and
+pillows; his cigar case laid out, and a bottle of salts, and also a
+small glass of old cognac, in case of faintness.
+
+"Which of you had the gumption to do all this?"
+
+"Miss Somerset, Sir Charles."
+
+"What, has she been _here?"_
+
+"Yes, Sir Charles."
+
+"Curse her!"
+
+"Yes, Sir Charles."
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+"LOVE LIES BLEEDING."
+
+BELLA BRUCE was drinking the bitterest cup a young virgin soul can
+taste. Illusion gone--the wicked world revealed as it is, how unlike
+what she thought it was--love crushed in her, and not crushed out of
+her, as it might if she had been either proud or vain.
+
+Frail men and women should see what a passionate but virtuous woman can
+suffer, when a revelation, of which they think but little, comes and
+blasts her young heart, and bids her dry up in a moment the deep well
+of her affection, since it flows for an unworthy object, and flows in
+vain. I tell you that the fair head severed from the chaste body is
+nothing to her compared with this. The fair body, pierced with heathen
+arrows, was nothing to her in the days of old compared with this.
+
+In a word--for nowadays we can but amplify, and so enfeeble, what some
+old dead master of language, immortal though obscure, has said in words
+of granite--here
+
+         "Love lay bleeding."
+
+No fainting--no vehement weeping; but oh, such deep desolation; such
+weariness of life; such a pitiable restlessness. Appetite gone; the
+taste of food almost lost; sleep unwilling to come; and oh, the torture
+of waking--for at that horrible moment all rushed back at once, the joy
+that had been, the misery that was, the blank that was to come.
+
+She never stirred out, except when ordered, and then went like an
+automaton. Pale, sorrow-stricken, and patient, she moved about, the
+ghost of herself; and lay down a little, and then tried to work a
+little, and then to read a little; and could settle to nothing but
+sorrow and deep despondency.
+
+Not that she nursed her grief. She had been told to be brave, and she
+tried. But her grief was her master. It came welling through her eyes
+in a moment, of its own accord.
+
+She was deeply mortified too. But, in her gentle nature, anger could
+play but a secondary part. Her indignation was weak beside her grief,
+and did little to bear her up.
+
+Yet her sense of shame was vivid; and she tried hard not to let her
+father see how deeply she loved the man who had gone from her to Miss
+Somerset. Besides, he had ordered her to fight against a love that now
+could only degrade her; he had ordered, and it was for her to obey.
+
+As soon as Sir Charles was better, he wrote her a long, humble letter,
+owning that, before he knew her, he had led a free life; but assuring
+her that, ever since that happy time, his heart and his time had been
+solely hers; as to his visit to Miss Somerset, it had been one of
+business merely, and this he could prove, if she would receive him. The
+admiral could be present at that interview, and Sir Charles hoped to
+convince him he had been somewhat hasty and harsh in his decision.
+
+Now the admiral had foreseen Sir Charles would write to her; so he had
+ordered his man to bring all letters to him first.
+
+He recognized Sir Charles's hand, and brought the latter in to Bella.
+"Now, my child," said he, "be brave. Here is a letter from that man."
+
+"Oh, papa! I thought he would. I knew he would." And the pale face was
+flushed with joy and hope all in a moment.
+
+"Do what?"
+
+"Write and explain."
+
+"Explain? A thing that is clear as sunshine. He has written to throw
+dust in your eyes again. You are evidently in no state to judge. _I_
+shall read this letter first."
+
+"Yes, papa," said Bella, faintly.
+
+He did read it, and she devoured his countenance all the time.
+
+"There is nothing in it. He offers no real explanation, but only says
+he can explain, and asks for an interview--to play upon your weakness.
+If I give you this letter, it will only make you cry, and render your
+task more difficult. I must be strong for your good, and set you an
+example. I loved this young man too; but, now I know him"--then he
+actually thrust the letter into the fire.
+
+But this was too much. Bella shrieked at the act, and put her hand to
+her heart, and shrieked again. "Ah! you'll kill us, you'll kill us
+both!" she cried. "Poor Charles! Poor Bella! You don't love your
+child--you have no pity." And, for the first time, her misery was
+violent. She writhed and wept, and at last went into violent hysterics,
+and frightened that stout old warrior more than cannon had ever
+frightened him; and presently she became quiet, and wept at his knees,
+and begged his forgiveness, and said he was wiser than she was, and she
+would obey him in everything, only he must not be angry with her if she
+could not live.
+
+Then the stout admiral mingled his tears with hers, and began to
+realize what deep waters of affliction his girl was wading in.
+
+Yet he saw no way out but firmness. He wrote to Sir Charles to say that
+his daughter was too ill to write; but that no explanation was
+possible, and no interview could be allowed.
+
+Sir Charles, who, after writing, had conceived the most sanguine hopes,
+was now as wretched as Bella. Only, now that he was refused a hearing,
+he had wounded pride to support him a little under wounded love.
+
+Admiral Bruce, fearing for his daughter's health, and even for her
+life--she pined so visibly--now ordered her to divide her day into
+several occupations, and exact divisions of time--an hour for this, an
+hour for that; an hour by the clock--and here he showed practical
+wisdom. Try it, ye that are very unhappy, and tell me the result.
+
+As a part of this excellent system, she had to walk round the square
+from eleven to twelve A. M., but never alone; he was not going to have
+Sir Charles surprising her into an interview. He always went with her,
+and, as he was too stiff to walk briskly, he sat down, and she had to
+walk in sight. He took a stout stick with him--for Sir Charles. But Sir
+Charles was proud, and stayed at home with his deep wound.
+
+One day, walking round the square with a step of Mercury and heart of
+lead, Bella Bruce met a Sister of Charity pacing slow and thoughtful;
+their eyes met and drank, in a moment, every feature of each other.
+
+The Sister, apparently, had seen the settled grief on that fair face;
+for the next time they met, she eyed her with a certain sympathy, which
+did not escape Bella.
+
+This subtle interchange took place several times and Bella could not
+help feeling a little grateful. "Ah!" she thought to herself, "how kind
+religious people are! I should like to speak to her." And the next time
+they met she looked wistfully in the Sister's face.
+
+She did not meet her again, for she went and rested on a bench, in
+sight of her father, but at some distance from him. Unconsciously to
+herself, his refusal even to hear Sir Charles repelled her. That was so
+hard on him and her. It looked like throwing away the last chance, the
+last little chance of happiness.
+
+By-and-by the Sister came and sat on the same bench.
+
+Bella was hardly surprised, but blushed high, for she felt that her own
+eyes had invited the sympathy of a stranger; and now it seemed to be
+coming. The timid girl felt uneasy. The Sister saw that, and approached
+her with tact. "You look unwell," said she, gently, but with no
+appearance of extravagant interest or curiosity.
+
+"I am--a little," said Bella, very reservedly.
+
+"Excuse my remarking it. We are professional nurses, and apt to be a
+little officious, I fear."
+
+No reply.
+
+"I saw you were unwell. But I hope it is not serious. I can generally
+tell when the sick are in danger." A peculiar look. "I am glad not to
+see it in so young and--good a face."
+
+"You are young, too; very young, and--" she was going to say
+"beautiful," but she was too shy--"to be a Sister of Charity. But I am
+sure you never regret leaving such a world as this is."
+
+"Never. I have lost the only thing I ever valued in it."
+
+"I have no right to ask you what that was."
+
+"You shall know without asking. One I loved proved unworthy."
+
+The Sister sighed deeply, and then, hiding her face with her hands for
+a moment, rose abruptly, and left the square, ashamed, apparently, of
+having been betrayed into such a confession.
+
+Bella, when she was twenty yards off, put out a timid hand, as if to
+detain her; but she had not the courage to say anything of the kind.
+
+She never told her father a word. She had got somebody now who could
+sympathize with her better than he could.
+
+Next day the Sister was there, and Bella bowed to her when she met her.
+This time it was the Sister who went and sat on the bench.
+
+Bella continued her walk for some time, but at last could not resist
+the temptation. She came and sat down on the bench, and blushed; as
+much as to say, "I have the courage to come, but not to speak upon a
+certain subject, which shall be nameless."
+
+The Sister, as may be imagined, was not so shy. She opened a
+conversation. "I committed a fault yesterday. I spoke to you of myself,
+and of the past: it is discouraged by our rules. We are bound to
+inquire the griefs of others; not to tell our own."
+
+This was a fair opening, but Bella was too delicate to show her wounds
+to a fresh acquaintance.
+
+The Sister, having failed at that, tried something very different.
+
+"But I could tell you a pitiful case about another. Some time ago I
+nursed a gentleman whom love had laid on a sick-bed."
+
+"A gentleman! What! can they love as we do?" said Bella, bitterly.
+
+"Not many of them; but this was an exception. But I don't know whether
+I ought to tell these secrets to so young a lady."
+
+"Oh, yes--please--what else is there in this world worth talking about?
+Tell me about the poor man who could love as we can."
+
+The Sister seemed to hesitate, but at last decided to go on.
+
+"Well, he was a man of the world, and he had not always been a good
+man; but he was trying to be. He had fallen in love with a young lady,
+and seen the beauty of virtue, and was going to marry her and lead a
+good life. But he was a man of honor, and there was a lady for whom he
+thought it was his duty to provide. He set his lawyer to draw a deed,
+and his lawyer appointed a day for signing it at her house. The poor
+man came because his lawyer told him. Do you think there was any great
+harm in that?"
+
+"No; of course not."
+
+"Well, then, he lost his love for that."
+
+Miss Bruce's color began to come and go, and her supple figure to
+crouch a little. She said nothing.
+
+The Sister continued: "Some malicious person went and told the young
+lady's father the gentleman was in the habit of visiting that lady, and
+would be with her at a certain hour. And so he was; but it was the
+lawyer's appointment, you know. You seem agitated."
+
+"No, no; not agitated," said Bella, "but astonished; it is so like a
+story I know. A young lady, a friend of mine, had an anonymous letter,
+telling her that one she loved and esteemed was unworthy. But what you
+have told me shows me how deceitful appearances may be. What was your
+patient's name?"
+
+"It is against our rules to tell that. But you said an 'anonymous
+letter.' Was your friend so weak as to believe an anonymous letter? The
+writer of such a letter is a coward, and a coward always is a liar.
+Show me your friend's anonymous letter. I may, perhaps, be able to
+throw a light on it."
+
+The conversation was interrupted by Admiral Bruce, who had approached
+them unobserved. "Excuse me," said he, "but you ladies seem to have hit
+upon a very interesting theme."
+
+"Yes, papa," said Bella. "I took the liberty to question this lady as
+to her experiences of sick-beds, and she was good enough to give me
+some of them."
+
+Having uttered this with a sudden appearance of calmness that first
+amazed the Sister, then made her smile, she took her father's arm,
+bowed politely, and a little stiffly, to her new friend, and drew the
+admiral away.
+
+"Oh!" thought the Sister. "I am not to speak to the old gentleman. He
+is not in her confidence. Yet she is very fond of him. How she hangs on
+his arm! Simplicity! Candor! We are all tarred with the same stick--we
+women."
+
+That night Bella was a changed girl--exalted and depressed by turns,
+and with no visible reason.
+
+Her father was pleased. Anything better than that deadly languor.
+
+The next day Bella sat by her father's side in the square, longing to
+go to the Sister, yet patiently waiting to be ordered.
+
+At last the admiral, finding her dull and listless, said, "Why don't
+you go and talk to the Sister? She amuses you. I'll join you when I
+have smoked this cigar."
+
+The obedient Bella rose, and went toward the Sister as if compelled.
+But when she got to her her whole manner changed. She took her warmly
+by the hand, and said, trembling and blushing, and all on fire, "I have
+brought you the anonymous letter."
+
+The elder actress took it and ran her eye over it--an eye that now
+sparkled like a diamond. "Humph!" said she, and flung off all the
+dulcet tones of her assumed character with mighty little ceremony.
+"This hand is disguised a little, but I think I know it. I am sure I
+do! The dirty little rascal!"
+
+"Madam!" cried Bella, aghast with surprise at this language.
+
+"I tell you I know the writer and his rascally motive. You must lend me
+this for a day or two."
+
+"Must I?" said Bella. "Excuse me! Papa would be so angry."
+
+"Very likely; but you will lend it to me for all that; for with this I
+can clear Miss Bruce's lover and defeat his enemies."
+
+Bella uttered a faint cry, and trembled, and her bosom heaved
+violently. She looked this way and that, like a frightened deer. "But
+papa? His eye is on us."
+
+"Never deceive your father!" said the Sister, almost sternly; "but,"
+darting her gray eyes right into those dove-like orbs, "give me five
+minutes' start--IF YOU REALLY LOVE SIR CHARLES BASSETT."
+
+With these words she carried off the letter; and Bella ran, blushing,
+panting, trembling, to her father, and clung to him.
+
+He questioned her, but could get nothing from her very intelligible
+until the Sister was out of sight, and then she told him all without
+reserve.
+
+"I was unworthy of him to doubt him. An anonymous slander. I'll never
+trust appearances again. Poor Charles! Oh, my darling! what he must
+have suffered if he loves like me." Then came a shower of happy tears;
+then a shower of happy kisses.
+
+The admiral groaned, but for a long time he could not get a word in.
+When he did it was chilling. "My poor girl," said he, "this unhappy
+love blinds you. What, don't you see the woman is no nun, but some sly
+hussy that man has sent to throw dust in your eyes?"
+
+Nothing she could say prevailed to turn him from this view, and he
+acted upon it with resolution: he confined her excursions to a little
+garden at the back of the house, and forbade her, on any pretense, to
+cross the threshold.
+
+Miss Somerset came to the square in another disguise, armed with
+important information. But no Bella Bruce appeared to meet her.
+
+
+
+All this time Richard Bassett was happy as a prince.
+
+So besotted was he with egotism, and so blinded by imaginary wrongs,
+that he rejoiced in the lovers' separation, rejoiced in his cousin's
+attack.
+
+Polly, who now regarded him almost as a lover, told him all about it;
+and already in anticipation he saw himself and his line once more lords
+of the two manors--Bassett and Huntercombe--on the demise of Sir
+Charles Bassett, Bart., deceased without issue.
+
+And, in fact, Sir Charles was utterly defeated. He lay torpid.
+
+But there was a tough opponent in the way--all the more dangerous that
+she was not feared.
+
+One fine day Miss Somerset electrified her groom by ordering her pony
+carriage to the door at ten A. M.
+
+She took the reins on the pavement, like a man, jumped in light as a
+feather, and away rattled the carriage into the City. The ponies were
+all alive, the driver's eye keen as a bird's; her courage and her
+judgment equal. She wound in and out among the huge vehicles with
+perfect composure; and on those occasions when, the traffic being
+interrupted, the oratorical powers were useful to fill up the time, she
+shone with singular brilliance. The West End is too often in debt to
+the City, but, in the matter of chaff, it was not so this day; for
+whenever she took a peck she returned a bushel; and so she rattled to
+the door of Solomon Oldfield, solicitor, Old Jewry.
+
+She penetrated into the inner office of that worthy, and told him he
+must come with her that minute to Portman Square.
+
+"Impossible, madam!" And, as they say in the law reports, gave his
+reasons.
+
+"Certain, sir!" And gave no reasons.
+
+He still resisted.
+
+Thereupon she told him she should sit there all day and chaff his
+clients one after another, and that his connection with the Bassett and
+Huntercombe estates should end.
+
+Then he saw he had to do with a termagant, and consented, with a sigh.
+
+She drove him westward, wincing every now and then at her close
+driving, and told him all, and showed him what she was pleased to call
+her little game. He told her it was too romantic. Said he, "You ladies
+read nothing but novels; but the real world is quite different from the
+world of novels." Having delivered this remonstrance--which was
+tolerably just, for she never read anything but novels and sermons--he
+submitted like a lamb, and received her instructions.
+
+She drove as fast as she talked, so that by this time they were at
+Admiral Bruce's door.
+
+Now Mr. Oldfield took the lead, as per instructions. "Mr. Oldfield,
+solicitor, and a lady--on business."
+
+The porter delivered this to the footman with the accuracy which all
+who send verbal messages deserve and may count on. "Mr. Oldfield and
+lady."
+
+The footman, who represented the next step in oral tradition, without
+which form of history the Heathen world would never have known that
+Hannibal softened the rocks with vinegar, nor the Christian world that
+eleven thousand virgins dwelt in a German town the size of Putney,
+announced the pair as "Mr. and Mrs. Hautville."
+
+"I don't know them, I think. Well, I will see them."
+
+They entered, and the admiral stared a little, and wondered how this
+couple came together--the keen but plain old man, with clothes hanging
+on him, and the dashing beauty, with her dress in the height of the
+fashion, and her gauntleted hands. However, he bowed ceremoniously, and
+begged his visitors to be seated.
+
+Now the folding-doors were ajar, and the _soi-disant_ Mrs. Oldfield
+peeped. She saw Bella Bruce at some distance, seated by the fire, in a
+reverie.
+
+Judge that young lady's astonishment when she looked up and observed a
+large white, well-shaped hand, sparkling with diamonds and rubies,
+beckoning her furtively.
+
+
+
+The owner of that sparkling hand soon heard a soft rustle of silk come
+toward the door; the very rustle, somehow, was eloquent, and betrayed
+love and timidity, and something innocent yet subtle. The jeweled hand
+went in again directly.
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+MEANTIME Mr. Oldfield began to tell the admiral who he was, and that he
+was come to remove a false impression about a client of his, Sir
+Charles Bassett.
+
+"That, sir," said the admiral, sternly, "is a name we never mention
+here."
+
+He rose and went to the folding-doors, and deliberately closed them.
+
+The Somerset, thus defeated, bit her lip, and sat all of a heap, like a
+cat about to spring, looking sulky and vicious.
+
+Mr. Oldfield persisted, and, as he took the admiral's hint and lowered
+his voice, he was interrupted no more, but made a simple statement of
+those facts which are known to the reader.
+
+Admiral Bruce heard them, and admitted that the case was not quite so
+bad as he had thought.
+
+Then Mr. Oldfield proposed that Sir Charles should be re-admitted.
+
+"No," said the old admiral, firmly; "turn it how you will, it is too
+ugly; the bloom of the thing is gone. Why should my daughter take that
+woman's leavings? Why should I give her pure heart to a man about
+town?"
+
+"Because you will break it else," said Miss Somerset, with affected
+politeness.
+
+"Give her credit for more dignity, madam, if you please," replied
+Admiral Bruce, with equal politeness.
+
+"Oh, bother dignity!" cried the Somerset.
+
+At this free phrase from so well-dressed a lady Admiral Bruce opened
+his eyes, and inquired of Oldfield, rather satirically, who was this
+lady that did him the honor to interfere in his family affairs.
+
+Oldfield looked confused; but Somerset, full of mother-wit, was not to
+be caught napping. "I'm a by-stander; and they always see clearer than
+the folk themselves. You are a man of honor, sir, and you are very
+clever at sea, no doubt, and a fighter, and all that; but you are no
+match for land-sharks. You are being made a dupe and a tool of. Who do
+you think wrote that anonymous letter to your daughter? A friend of
+truth? a friend of injured innocence? Nothing of the sort. One Richard
+Bassett--Sir Charles's cousin. Here, Mr. Oldfield, please compare these
+two handwritings closely, and you will see I am right." She put down
+the anonymous letter and Richard Bassett's letter to herself; but she
+could not wait for Mr. Oldfield to compare the documents, now her
+tongue was set going. "Yes, gentlemen, this is new to you; but you'll
+find that little scheming rascal wrote them both, and with as base a
+motive and as black a heart as any other anonymous coward's. His game
+is to make Sir Charles Bassett die childless, and so then this dirty
+fellow would inherit the estate; and owing to you being so green, and
+swallowing an anonymous letter like pure water from the spring, he very
+nearly got his way. Sir Charles has been at death's door along of all
+this."
+
+"Hush, madam! not so loud, please," whispered Admiral Bruce, looking
+uneasily toward the folding, doors.
+
+"Why not?" bawled the Somerset. "THE TRUTH MAY BE BLAMED, BUT IT CAN'T
+BE SHAMED. I tell you that your precious letter brought Sir Charles
+Bassett to the brink of the grave. Soon as ever he got it he came
+tearing in his cab to Miss Somerset's house, and accused her of telling
+the lie to keep him--and he might have known better, for the jade never
+did a sneaking thing in her life. But, any way, he thought it must be
+her doing, miscalled her like a dog, and raged at her dreadful, and at
+last--what with love and fury and despair--he had the terriblest fit
+you ever saw. He fell down as black as your hat, and his eyes rolled,
+and his teeth gnashed, and he foamed at the mouth, and took four to
+hold him; and presently as white as a ghost, and given up for dead. No
+pulse for hours; and when his life came back his reason was gone."
+
+"Good Heavens, madam!"
+
+"For a time it was. How he did rave! and 'Bella' the only name on his
+lips. And now he lies in his own house as weak as water. Come, old
+gentleman, don't you be too hard; you are not a child, like your
+daughter; take the world as it is. Do you think you will ever find a
+man of fortune who has not had a lady friend? Why, every single
+gentleman in London that can afford to keep a saddle-horse has an
+article of that sort in some corner or other; and if he parts with her
+as soon as his banns are cried, that is all you can expect. Do you
+think any mother in Belgravia would make a row about that? They are
+downier than you are; they would shrug their aristocratic shoulders,
+and decline to listen to the _past_ lives of their sons-in-law--unless
+it was all in the newspapers, mind you."
+
+"If Belgravian mothers have mercenary minds, that is no reason why I
+should, whose cheeks have bronzed in the service of a virtuous queen,
+and whose hairs have whitened in honor."
+
+On receiving this broadside the Somerset altered her tone directly, and
+said, obsequiously: "That is true, sir, and I beg your pardon for
+comparing you to the trash. But brave men are pitiful, you know. Then
+show your pity here. Pity a gentleman that repented his faults as soon
+as your daughter showed him there was a better love within reach, and
+now lies stung by an anonymous viper, and almost dying of love and
+mortification; and pity your own girl, that will soon lose her health,
+and perhaps her life, if you don't give in."
+
+"She is not so weak, madam. She is in better spirits already."
+
+"Ay, but then she didn't know what he had suffered for _her._ She does
+now, for I heard her moan; and she will die for him now, or else she
+will give you twice as many kisses as usual some day, and cry a
+bucketful over you, and then run away with her lover. I know women
+better than you do; I am one of the precious lot."
+
+The admiral replied only with a look of superlative scorn. This
+incensed the Somerset; and that daring woman, whose ear was nearer to
+the door, and had caught sounds that escaped the men, actually turned
+the handle, and while her eye flashed defiance, her vigorous foot
+spurned the folding-doors wide open in half a moment.
+
+Bella Bruce lay with her head sidewise on the table, and her hands
+extended, moaning and sobbing piteously for poor Sir Charles.
+
+"For shame, madam, to expose my child," cried the admiral, bursting
+with indignation and grief. He rushed to her and took her in his arms.
+
+She scarcely noticed him, for the moment he turned her she caught sight
+of Miss Somerset, and recognized her face in a moment. "Ah! the Sister
+of Charity!" she cried, and stretched out her hands to her, with a look
+and a gesture so innocent, confiding, and imploring, that the Somerset,
+already much excited by her own eloquence, took a turn not uncommon
+with termagants, and began to cry herself.
+
+But she soon stopped that, for she saw her time was come to go, and
+avoid unpleasant explanations. She made a dart and secured the two
+letters. "Settle it among yourselves," said she, wheeling round and
+bestowing this advice on the whole party; then shot a sharp arrow at
+the admiral as she fled: "If you must be a tool of Richard Bassett,
+don't be a tool and a dupe by halves. _He_ is in love with her too.
+Marry her to the blackguard, and then you will be sure to kill Sir
+Charles." Having delivered this with such volubility that the words
+pattered out like a roll of musketry, she flounced out, with red cheeks
+and wet eyes, rushed down the stairs, and sprang into her carriage,
+whipped the ponies, and away at a pace that made the spectators stare.
+
+Mr. Oldfield muttered some excuses, and retired more sedately.
+
+All this set Bella Bruce trembling and weeping, and her father was some
+time before he could bring her to anything like composure. Her first
+words, when she could find breath, were, "He is innocent; he is
+unhappy. Oh, that I could fly to him!"
+
+"Innocent! What proof?"
+
+"That brave lady said so."
+
+"Brave lady! A bold hussy. Most likely a friend of the woman Somerset,
+and a bird of the same feather. Sir Charles has done himself no good
+with me by sending such an emissary."
+
+"No, papa; it was the lawyer brought her, and then her own good heart
+_made her burst out._ Ah! she is not like me: she has courage. What a
+noble thing courage is, especially in a woman!"
+
+"Pray did you hear the language of this noble lady?"
+
+"Every word nearly; and I shall never forget them. They were diamonds
+and pearls."
+
+"Of the sort you can pick up at Billingsgate."
+
+"Ah, papa, she pleaded for _him_ as I cannot plead, and yet I love him.
+It was true eloquence. Oh, how she made me shudder! Only think: he had
+a fit, and lost his reason, and all for me. What shall I do? What shall
+I do?"
+
+This brought on a fit of weeping.
+
+Her father pitied her, and gave her a crumb of sympathy: said he was
+sorry for Sir Charles.
+
+"But," said he, recovering his resolution, "it cannot be helped. He
+must expiate his vices, like other men. Do, pray, pluck up a little
+spirit and sense. Now try and keep to the point. This woman came from
+him; and you say you heard her language, and admire it. Quote me some
+of it."
+
+"She said he fell down as black as his hat, and his eyes rolled, and
+his poor teeth gnashed, and--oh, my darling! my darling! oh! oh! oh!"
+
+"There--there--I mean about other things."
+
+Bella complied, but with a running accompaniment of the sweetest little
+sobs.
+
+"She said I must be very green, to swallow an anonymous letter like
+spring water. Oh! oh!"
+
+"Green? There was a word!"
+
+"Oh! oh! But it is the right word. You can't mend it. Try, and you will
+see you can't. Of course I was green. Oh! And she said every gentleman
+who can afford to keep a saddle-horse has a female friend, till his
+banns are called in church. Oh! oh!"
+
+"A pretty statement to come to your ears!"
+
+"But if it is the truth! 'THE TRUTH MAY BE BLAMED, BUT IT CAN'T BE
+SHAMED.' Ah! I'll not forget that: I'll pray every night I may remember
+those words of the brave lady. Oh!"
+
+"Yes, take her for your oracle."
+
+"I mean to. I always try to profit by my superiors. She has courage: I
+have none. I beat about the bush, and talk skim-milk; she uses the very
+word. She said we have been the dupe and the tool of a little scheming
+rascal, an anonymous coward, with motives as base as his heart is
+black--oh! oh! Ay, that is the way to speak of such a man; I can't do
+it myself, but I reverence the brave lady who can. And she wasn't
+afraid even of you, dear papa. 'Come, old gentleman'--ha! ha!
+ha!--'take the world as it is; Belgravian mothers would not break
+_both_ their hearts for what is past and gone.' What hard good sense! a
+thing I always _did_ admire: because I've got none. But her _heart_ is
+not hard; after all her words of fire, that went so straight instead of
+beating the bush, she ended by crying for me. Oh! oh! oh! Bless her!
+Bless her! If ever there was a good woman in the world, that is one.
+She was not born a lady, I am afraid; but that is nothing: she was born
+a woman, and I mean to make her acquaintance, and take her for my
+example in all things. No, dear papa, women are not so pitiful to women
+without cause. She is almost a stranger, yet she cried for me. Can you
+be harder to me than she is? No; pity your poor girl, who will lose her
+health, and perhaps her life. Pity poor Charles, stung by an anonymous
+viper, and laid on a bed of sickness for me. Oh! oh! oh!"
+
+"I do pity you, Bella. When you cry like this, my heart bleeds."
+
+"I'll try not to cry, papa. Oh! oh!"
+
+"But most of all, I pity your infatuation, your blindness. Poor,
+innocent dove, that looks at others by the light of her own goodness,
+and so sees all manner of virtues in a brazen hussy. Now answer me one
+plain question. You called her 'the Sister!' Is she not the same woman
+that played the Sister of Charity?"
+
+Bella blushed to the temples, and said, hesitatingly, she was not quite
+sure.
+
+"Come, Bella. I thought you were going to imitate the jade, and not
+beat about the bush. Yes or no?"
+
+"The features are very like."
+
+"Bella, you know it is the same woman. You recognized her in a moment.
+That speaks volumes. But she shall find I am not to be made 'a dupe and
+a tool of' quite so easily as she thinks. I'll tell you what--this is
+some professional actress Sir Charles has hired to waylay you. Little
+simpleton!"
+
+He said no more at that time; but after dinner he ruminated, and took a
+very serious, indeed almost a maritime, view of the crisis. "I'm
+overmatched now," thought he. "They will cut my sloop out under the
+very guns of the flagship if we stay much longer in this port--a lawyer
+against me, and a woman too; there's nothing to be done but heave
+anchor, hoist sail, and run for it."
+
+He sent off a foreign telegram, and then went upstairs. "Bella, my
+dear," said he, "pack up your clothes for a journey. We start
+to-morrow."
+
+"A journey, papa! A long one?"
+
+"No. We shan't double the Horn this time."
+
+"Brighton? Paris?"
+
+"Oh, farther than that."
+
+"The grave: that is the journey I should like to take."
+
+ "So you shall, some day; but just now it is a _foreign_ port you are
+bound for. Go and pack."
+
+"I obey." And she was creeping off, but he called her back and kissed
+her, and said, "Now I'll tell you where you are going; but you must
+promise me solemnly not to write one line to Sir Charles."
+
+She promised, but cried as soon as she had promised; whereat the
+admiral inferred he had done wisely to exact the promise.
+
+"Well, my dear," said he, "we are going to Baden. Your aunt Molineux is
+there. She is a woman of great delicacy and prudence, and has daughters
+of her own all well married, thanks to her motherly care. She will
+bring you to your senses better than I can."
+
+Next evening they left England by the mail; and the day after Richard
+Bassett learned this through his servant, and went home triumphant,
+and, indeed, wondering at his success. He ascribed it, however, to the
+Nemesis which dogs the heels of those who inherit the estate of
+another.
+
+Such was the only moral reflection he made, though the business in
+general, and particularly his share in it, admitted of several.
+
+ Miss Somerset also heard of it, and told Mr. Oldfield; he told Sir
+Charles Bassett.
+
+That gentleman sighed deeply, and said nothing. He had lost all hope.
+
+
+
+The whole matter appeared stagnant for about ten days; and then a
+delicate hand stirred the dead waters cautiously. Mr. Oldfield, of all
+people in the world, received a short letter from Bella Bruce.
+
+
+
+"Konigsberg Hotel, BADEN.
+
+"Miss Bruce presents her compliments to Mr. Oldfield, and will feel
+much obliged if he will send her the name and address of that brave
+lady who accompanied him to her father's house.
+
+"Miss Bruce desires to thank that lady, personally, for her noble
+defense of one with whom it would be improper for her to communicate;
+but she can never be indifferent to his welfare, nor hear of his
+sufferings without deep sorrow."
+
+
+
+"Confound it!" said Solomon Oldfield. "What am I to do? I mustn't tell
+her it is Miss Somerset." So the wary lawyer had a copy of the letter
+made, and sent to Miss Somerset for instructions.
+
+Miss Somerset sent for Mr. Marsh, who was now more at her beck and call
+than ever, and told him she had a ticklish letter to write. "I can talk
+with the best," said she, "but the moment I sit down and take up a pen
+something cold runs up my shoulder, and then down my backbone, and I'm
+palsied; now you are always writing, and can't say 'Bo' to a goose in
+company. Let us mix ourselves; I'll walk about and speak my mind, and
+then you put down the cream, and send it."
+
+From this ingenious process resulted the following composition:
+
+
+
+"She whom Miss Bruce is good enough to call 'the brave lady' happened
+to know the truth, and that tempted her to try and baffle an anonymous
+slanderer, who was ruining the happiness of a lady and gentleman. Being
+a person of warm impulses, she went great lengths; but she now wishes
+to retire into the shade. She is flattered by Miss Bruce's desire to
+know her, and some day, perhaps, may remind her of it; but at present
+she must deny herself that honor. If her reasons were known, Miss Bruce
+would not be offended nor hurt; she would entirely approve them."
+
+
+
+Soon after this, as Sir Charles Bassett sat by the fire, disconsolate,
+his servant told him a lady wanted to see him.
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+"Don't know, Sir Charles; but it is a kind of a sort of a nun, Sir
+Charles."
+
+"Oh, a Sister of Charity! Perhaps the one that nursed me. Admit her, by
+all means."
+
+The Sister came in. She had a large veil on. Sir Charles received her
+with profound respect, and thanked her, with some little hesitation,
+for her kind attention to him. She stopped him by saying that was
+merely her duty. "But," said she, softly, "words fell from you, on the
+bed of sickness, that touched my heart; and besides I happen to know
+the lady."
+
+"You know my Bella!" cried Sir Charles. "Ah, then no wonder you speak
+so kindly; you can feel what I have lost. She has left England to avoid
+me."
+
+"All the better. Where she is the door cannot be closed in your face.
+She is at Baden. Follow her there. She has heard the truth from Mr.
+Oldfield, and she knows who wrote the anonymous letter."
+
+"And who did?"
+
+"Mr. Richard Bassett."
+
+This amazed Sir Charles.
+
+"The scoundrel!" said he, after a long silence.
+
+"Well, then, why let that fellow defeat you, for his own ends? I would
+go at once to Baden. Your leaving England would be one more proof to
+her that she has no rival. Stick to her like a man, sir, and you will
+win her, I tell you."
+
+These words from a nun amazed and fired him. He rose from his chair,
+flushed with sudden hope and ardor. "I'll leave for Baden to-morrow
+morning."
+
+The Sister rose to retire.
+
+"No, no," cried Sir Charles. "I have not thanked you. I ought to go
+down on my knees and bless you for all this. To whom am I so indebted?"
+
+"No matter, sir."
+
+"But it does matter. You nursed me, and perhaps saved my life, and now
+you give me back the hopes that make life sweet. You will not trust me
+with your name?"
+
+"We have no name."
+
+"Your voice at times sounds very like--no, I will not affront you by
+such a comparison."
+
+"I'm her sister," said she, like lightning.
+
+This announcement quite staggered Sir Charles, and he was silent and
+uncomfortable. It gave him a chill.
+
+The Sister watched him keenly, but said nothing.
+
+Sir Charles did not know what to say, so he asked to see her face. "It
+must be as beautiful as your heart."
+
+The Sister shook her head. "My face has been disfigured by a frightful
+disorder."
+
+Sir Charles uttered an ejaculation of regret and pity.
+
+"I could not bear to show it to one who esteems me as you seem to do.
+But perhaps it will not always be so."
+
+"I hope not. You are young, and Heaven is good. Can I do nothing for
+you, who have done so much for me?"
+
+"Nothing--unless--" said she, feigning vast timidity, "you could spare
+me that ring of yours, as a remembrance of the part I have played in
+this affair."
+
+Sir Charles colored. It was a ruby of the purest water, and had been
+two centuries in his family. He colored, but was too fine a gentleman
+to hesitate. He said, "By all means. But it is a poor thing to offer
+_you."_
+
+"I shall value it very much."
+
+"Say no more. I am fortunate in having anything you deign to accept."
+
+And so the ring changed hands.
+
+The Sister now put it on her middle finger, and held up her hand, and
+her bright eyes glanced at it, through her veil, with that delight
+which her sex in general feel at the possession of a new bauble. She
+recovered herself, however, and told him, soberly, the ring should
+return to his family at her death, if not before.
+
+"I will give you a piece of advice for it," said she. "Miss Bruce has
+foxy hair; and she is very timid. Don't you take her advice about
+commanding her. She would like to be your slave! Don't let her. Coax
+her to speak her mind. Make a friend of her. Don't you put her to
+this--that she must displease you, or else deceive you. She might
+choose wrong, especially with that colored hair."
+
+"It is not in her nature to deceive."
+
+"It is not in her nature to displease. Excuse me; I am too fanciful,
+and look at women too close. But I know your happiness depends on her.
+All your eggs are in that one basket. Well, I have told you how to
+carry the basket. Good-by."
+
+Sir Charles saw her out, and bowed respectfully to her in the hall,
+while his servant opened the street door. He did her this homage as his
+benefactress.
+
+
+
+When admiral and Miss Bruce reached Baden Mrs. Molineux was away on a
+visit; and this disappointed Admiral Bruce, who had counted on her
+assistance to manage and comfort Bella. Bella needed the latter very
+much. A glance at her pale, pensive, lovely face was enough to show
+that sorrow was rooted at her heart. She was subjected to no restraint,
+but kept the house of her own accord, thinking, as persons of her age
+are apt to do, that her whole history must be written in her face.
+Still, of course, she did go out sometimes; and one cold but bright
+afternoon she was strolling languidly on the parade, when all in a
+moment she met Sir Charles Bassett face to face.
+
+She gave an eloquent scream, and turned pale a moment, and then the hot
+blood came rushing, and then it retired, and she stood at bay, with
+heaving bosom--and great eyes.
+
+Sir Charles held out both hands pathetically. "Don't you be afraid of
+me."
+
+When she found he was so afraid of offending her she became more
+courageous. "How dare you come here?" said she, but with more curiosity
+than violence, for it had been her dream of hope he would come.
+
+"How could I keep away, when I heard you were here?"
+
+"You must not speak to me, sir; I am forbidden."
+
+"Pray do not condemn me unheard."
+
+"If I listen to you I shall believe you. I won't hear a word. Gentlemen
+can do things that ladies cannot even speak about. Talk to my aunt
+Molineux; our fate depends on her. This will teach you not to be so
+wicked. What business have gentlemen to be so wicked? Ladies are not.
+No, it is no use; I will not hear a syllable. I am ashamed to be seen
+speaking to you. You are a bad character. Oh, Charles, is it true you
+had a fit?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And have you been very ill? You look ill."
+
+"I am better now, dearest."
+
+"Dearest! Don't call me names. How dare you keep speaking to me when I
+request you not?"
+
+"But I can't excuse myself, and obtain my pardon, and recover your
+love, unless I am allowed to speak."
+
+"Oh, you can speak to my aunt Molineux, and she will read you a fine
+lesson."
+
+"Where is she?"
+
+"Nobody knows. But there is her house, the one with the iron gate. Get
+her ear first, if you really love me; and don't you ever waylay me
+again. If you do, I shall say something rude to you, sir. Oh, I'm so
+happy!"
+
+Having let this out, she hid her face with her hands, and fled like the
+very wind.
+
+At dinner-time she was in high spirits.
+
+The admiral congratulated her.
+
+"Brava, Bell! Youth and health and a foreign air will soon cure you of
+that folly."
+
+Bella blushed deeply, and said nothing. The truth struggled within her,
+too, but she shrank from giving pain, and receiving expostulation.
+
+She kept the house, though, for two days, partly out of modesty, partly
+out of an honest and pious desire to obey her father as much as she
+could.
+
+The third day Mrs. Molineux arrived, and sent over to the admiral.
+
+He invited Bella to come with him. She consented eagerly, but was so
+long in dressing that he threatened to go without her. She implored him
+not to do that; and after a monstrous delay, the motive of which the
+reader may perhaps divine, father and daughter called on Mrs. Molineux.
+She received them very affectionately. But when the admiral, with some
+hesitation, began to enter on the great subject, she said, quietly,
+"Bella, my dear, go for a walk, and come back to me in half an hour."
+
+"Aunt Molineux!" said Bella, extending both her hands imploringly to
+that lady.
+
+Mrs. Molineux was proof against this blandishment, and Bella had to go.
+
+When she was gone, this lady, who both as wife and mother was literally
+a model, rather astonished her brother the admiral. She said: "I am
+sorry to tell you that you have conducted this matter with perfect
+impropriety, both you and Bella. She had no business to show you that
+anonymous letter; and when she did show it you, you should have taken
+it from her, and told her not to believe a word of it."
+
+"And married my daughter to a libertine! Why, Charlotte, I am ashamed
+of you."
+
+Mrs. Molineux colored high; but she kept her temper, and ignored the
+interruption. "Then, if you decided to go into so indelicate a question
+at all (and really you were not bound to do so on anonymous
+information), why, then, you should have sent for Sir Charles, and
+given him the letter, and put him on his honor to tell you the truth.
+He would have told you the fact, instead of a garbled version; and the
+fact is that before he knew Bella he had a connection, which he
+prepared to dissolve, on terms very honorable to himself, as soon as he
+engaged himself to your daughter. What is there in that? Why, it is
+common, universal, among men of fashion. I am so vexed it ever came to
+Bella's knowledge: really it is dreadful to me, as a mother, that such
+a thing should have been discussed before that child. Complete
+innocence means complete ignorance; and that is how all my girls went
+to their husbands. However, what we must do now is to tell her Sir
+Charles has satisfied me he was not to blame; and after that the
+subject must never be recurred to. Sir Charles has promised me never to
+mention it, and no more shall Bella. And now, my dear John, let me
+congratulate you. Your daughter has a high-minded lover, who adores
+her, with a fine estate: he has been crying to me, poor fellow, as men
+will to a woman of my age; and if you have any respect for my
+judgment--ask him to dinner."
+
+She added that it might be as well if, after dinner, he were to take a
+little nap.
+
+Admiral Bruce did not fall into these views without discussion. I spare
+the reader the dialogue, since he yielded at last; only he stipulated
+that his sister should do the dinner, and the subsequent siesta.
+
+Bella returned looking very wistful and anxious.
+
+"Come here, niece," said Mrs. Molineux. "Kneel you at my knee. Now
+look--me in the face. Sir Charles has loved you, and you only, from the
+day he first saw you. He loves you now as much as ever. Do you love
+him?"
+
+"Oh, aunt! aunt!" A shower of kisses, and a tear or two.
+
+"That is enough. Then dry your eyes, and dress your beautiful hair a
+little better than _that;_ for he dines with me to-day!"
+
+Who so bright and happy now as Bella Bruce?
+
+
+
+The dreaded aunt did not stop there. She held that after the peep into
+real life Bella Bruce had obtained, for want of a mother's vigilance,
+she ought to be a wife as soon as possible. So she gave Sir Charles a
+hint that Baden was a very good place to be married in; and from that
+moment Sir Charles gave Bella and her father no rest till they
+consented.
+
+Little did Richard Bassett, in England, dream what was going on at
+Baden. He now surveyed the chimneys of Huntercombe Hall with
+resignation, and even with growing complacency, as chimneys that would
+one day be his, since their owner would not be in a hurry to love
+again. He shot Sir Charles's pheasants whenever they strayed into his
+hedgerows, and he lived moderately and studied health. In a word,
+content with the result of his anonymous letter, he confined himself
+now to cannily out-living the wrongful heir--his cousin.
+
+One fine frosty day the chimneys of Huntercombe began to show signs of
+life; vertical columns of blue smoke rose in the air, one after
+another, till at last there were about forty going.
+
+Old servants flowed down from London. New ones trickled in, with their
+boxes, from the country. Carriages were drawn out into the stable-yard,
+horses exercised, and a whisper ran that Sir Charles was coming to live
+on his estates, and not alone.
+
+Richard Bassett went about inquiring cautiously.
+
+The rumor spread and was confirmed by some little facts.
+
+At last, one fine day, when the chimneys were all smoking, the
+church-bells began to peal.
+
+Richard Bassett heard, and went out, scowling deeply. He found the
+village all agog with expectation.
+
+Presently there was a loud cheer from the steeple, and a flag floated
+from the top of Huntercombe House. Murmurs. Distant cheers. Approaching
+cheers. The clatter of horses' feet. The roll of wheels. Huntercombe
+gates flung wide open by a cluster of grooms and keepers.
+
+Then on came two outriders, ushered by loud hurrahs, and followed by a
+carriage and four that dashed through the village amid peals of delight
+from the villagers. The carriage was open, and in it sat Sir Charles
+and Bella Bassett. She was lovelier than ever; she dazzled the very air
+with her beauty and her glorious hair. The hurrahs of the villagers
+made her heart beat; she pressed Sir Charles's hand tenderly, and
+literally shone with joy and pride; and so she swept past Richard
+Bassett; she saw him directly, shuddered a moment, and half clung to
+her husband; then on again, and passed through the open gates amid loud
+cheers. She alighted in her own hall, and walked, nodding and smiling
+sunnily, through two files of domestics and retainers; and thought no
+more of Richard Bassett than some bright bird that has flown over a
+rattlesnake and glanced down at him.
+
+
+
+But a gorgeous bird cannot always be flying. A snake can sometimes
+creep under her perch, and glare, and keep hissing, till she shudders
+and droops and lays her plumage in the dust.
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+GENERALLY deliberate crimes are followed by some great punishment; but
+they are also often attended in their course by briefer
+chastisements--single strokes from the whip that holds the round dozen
+in reserve. These precursors of the grand expiation are sharp but
+kindly lashes, for they tend to whip the man out of the wrong road.
+
+Such a stroke fell on Richard Bassett: he saw Bella Bruce sweep past
+him, clinging to her husband, and shuddering at himself. For this,
+then, he had plotted and intrigued and written an anonymous letter. The
+only woman he had ever loved at all went past him with a look of
+aversion, and was his enemy's wife, and would soon be the mother of
+that enemy's children, and blot him forever out of the coveted
+inheritance.
+
+The man crept home, and sat by his little fireside, crushed. Indeed,
+from that hour he disappeared, and drank his bitter cup alone.
+
+After a while it transpired in the village that he was very ill. The
+clergyman went to visit him, but was not admitted. The only person who
+got to see him was his friend Wheeler, a small but sharp attorney, by
+whose advice he acted in country matters. This Wheeler was very fond of
+shooting, and could not get a crack at a pheasant except on Highmore;
+and that was a bond between him and its proprietor. It was Wheeler who
+had first told Bassett not to despair of possessing the estates, since
+they had inserted Sir Charles's heir at law in the entail.
+
+This Wheeler found him now so shrunk in body, so pale and haggard in
+face, and dejected in mind, that he was really shocked, and asked leave
+to send a doctor from a neighboring town.
+
+"What to do?" said Richard, moodily. "It's my mind; it's not my body.
+Ah, Wheeler, it is all over. I and mine shall never have Huntercombe
+now."
+
+"I'll tell you what it is," said Wheeler, almost angrily, "you will
+have six feet by two of it before long if you go on this way. Was ever
+such folly! to fret yourself out of this jolly world because you can't
+get one particular slice of its upper crust. Why, one bit of land is as
+good as another; and I'll show you how to get land--in this
+neighborhood, too. Ay, right under Sir Charles's nose."
+
+"Show me that," said Bassett, gloomily and incredulously.
+
+"Leave off moping, then, and I will. I advise the bank, you know, and
+'Splatchett's' farm is mortgaged up to the eyes. It is not the only
+one. I go to the village inns, and pick up all the gossip I hear
+there."
+
+"How am I to find money to buy land?"
+
+"I'll put you up to that, too; but you must leave off moping. Hang it,
+man, never say die. There are plenty of chances on the cards. Get your
+color back, and marry a girl with money, and turn that into land. The
+first thing is to leave off grizzling. Why, you are playing the enemy's
+game. That can't be right, can it?"
+
+This remark was the first that really roused the sick man.
+
+Wheeler had too few clients to lose one. He now visited Bassett almost
+daily, and, being himself full of schemes and inventions, he got
+Bassett, by degrees, out of his lethargy, and he emerged into daylight
+again; but he looked thin, and yellow as a guinea, and he had turned
+miser. He kept but one servant, and fed her and himself at Sir Charles
+Bassett's expense. He wired that gentleman's hares and rabbits in his
+own hedges. He went out with his gun every sunny afternoon, and shot a
+brace or two of pheasants, without disturbing the rest; for he took no
+dog with him to run and yelp, but a little boy, who quietly tapped the
+hedgerows and walked the sunny banks and shaws. They never came home
+empty-handed.
+
+But on those rarer occasions when Sir Charles and his friends beat the
+Bassett woods Richard was sure to make a large bag; for he was a cool,
+unerring shot, and flushed the birds in hedgerows, slips of underwood,
+etc., to which the fairer sportsmen had driven them.
+
+These birds and the surplus hares he always sold in the market-town,
+and put the money into a box. The rabbits he ate, and also squirrels,
+and, above all, young hedgehogs: a gypsy taught him how to cook them,
+viz., by inclosing them in clay, and baking them in wood embers; then
+the bristles adhere to the burned clay, and the meat is juicy. He was
+his own gardener, and vegetables cost him next to nothing.
+
+So he went on through all the winter months, and by the spring his
+health and strength were restored. Then he turned woodman, cut down
+every stick of timber in a little wood near his house, and sold it; and
+then set to work to grub up the roots for fires, and cleared it for
+tillage. The sum he received for the wood was much more than he
+expected, and this he made a note of.
+
+He had a strong body, that could work hard all day, a big hate, and a
+mania for the possession of land. And so he led a truly Spartan life,
+and everybody in the village said he was mad.
+
+While he led this hard life Sir Charles and Lady Bassett were the
+gayest of the gay. She was the beauty and the bride. Visits and
+invitations poured in from every part of the country. Sir Charles,
+flattered by the homage paid to his beloved, made himself younger and
+less fastidious to indulge her; and the happy pair often drove twelve
+miles to dinner, and twenty to dine and sleep--an excellent custom in
+that country, one of whose favorite toasts is worth recording: "MAY YOU
+DINE WHERE YOU PLEASE, AND SLEEP WHERE YOU DINE."
+
+They were at every ball, and gave one or two themselves.
+
+Above all, they enjoyed society in that delightful form which is
+confined to large houses. They would have numerous and well-assorted
+visitors staying at the house for a week or so, and all dining at a
+huge round table. But two o'clock P.M. was the time to see how hosts
+and guests enjoyed themselves. The hall door of Huntercombe was
+approached by a flight of stone steps, easy of ascent, and about
+twenty-four feet wide. At the riding hour the county ladies used to
+come, one after another, holding up their riding-habits with one hand,
+and perch about this gigantic flight of steps like peacocks, and
+chatter like jays, while the servants walked their horses about the
+gravel esplanade, and the four-in-hand waited a little in the rear. A
+fine champing of bits and fidgeting of thoroughbreds there was, till
+all were ready; then the ladies would each put out her little foot,
+with charming nonchalance, to the nearest gentleman or groom, with a
+slight preference for the grooms, who were more practiced. The man
+lifted, the lady sprang at the same time, and into her saddle like a
+bird--Lady Bassett on a very quiet pony, or in the carriage to please
+some dowager--and away they clattered in high spirits, a regular
+cavalcade. It was a hunting county, and the ladies rode well; square
+seat, light hand on the snaffle, the curb reserved for cases of
+necessity; and, when they had patted the horse on the neck at starting,
+as all these coaxing creatures must, they rode him with that well-bred
+ease and unconsciousness of being on a horse which distinguishes ladies
+who have ridden all their lives from the gawky snobbesses in Hyde Park,
+who ride, if riding it can be called, with their elbows uncouthly
+fastened to their sides as if by a rope, their hands at the pit of
+their stomachs, and both those hands, as heavy as a housemaid's, sawing
+the poor horse with curb and snaffle at once, while the whole body
+breathes pretension and affectation, and seems to say, "Look at me; I
+am on horseback! Be startled at that--as I am! and I have had lessons
+from a riding-master. He has taught me how a lady should ride"--in his
+opinion, poor devil.
+
+The champing, the pawing, the mounting, and the clattering of these
+bright cavalcades, with the music of the women excited by motion,
+furnished a picture of wealth and gayety and happy country life that
+cheered the whole neighborhood, and contrasted strangely with the stern
+Spartan life of him who had persuaded himself he was the rightful owner
+of Huntercombe Hall.
+
+Sir Charles Bassett was a magistrate, and soon found himself a bad one.
+One day he made a little mistake, which, owing to his popularity, was
+very gently handled by the Bench at their weekly meeting; but still Sir
+Charles was ashamed and mortified. He wrote directly to Oldfield for
+law books, and that gentleman sent him an excellent selection bound in
+smooth calf.
+
+Sir Charles now studied three hours every day, except hunting days,
+when no squire can work; and as his study was his justice room, he took
+care to find an authority before he acted. He was naturally humane, and
+rustic offenders, especially poachers and runaway farm servants, used
+to think themselves fortunate if they were taken before him and not
+before Squire Powys, who was sure to give them the sharp edge of the
+law. So now Sir Charles was useful as well as ornamental.
+
+Thus passed fourteen months of happiness, with only one little
+cloud--there was no sign yet of a son and heir. But let a man be ever
+so powerful, it is an awkward thing to have a bitter, inveterate enemy
+at his door watching for a chance. Sir Charles began to realize this in
+the sixteenth month of his wedded bliss. A small estate called
+"Splatchett's" lay on his north side, and a marginal strip of this
+property ran right into a wood of his. This strip was wretched land,
+and the owner, unable to raise any wheat crop on it, had planted it
+with larches.
+
+Sir Charles had made him a liberal offer for "Splatchett's" about six
+years ago; but he had refused point-blank, being then in good
+circumstances.
+
+Sir Charles now received a hint from one of his own gamekeepers that
+the old farmer was in a bad way, and talked of selling. So Sir Charles
+called on him, and asked him if he would sell "Splatchett's" now. "Why,
+I can't sell it twice," said the old man, testily.  "You ha' got it,
+han't ye?" It turned out that Richard Bassett had been beforehand. The
+bank had pressed for their money, and threatened foreclosure; then
+Bassett had stepped in with a good price; and although the conveyance
+was not signed, a stamped agreement was, and neither vender nor
+purchaser could go back. What made it more galling, the proprietor was
+not aware of the feud between the Bassetts, and had thought to please
+Sir Charles by selling to one of his name.
+
+Sir Charles Bassett went home seriously vexed. He did not mean to tell
+his wife; but love's eye read his face, love's arm went round his neck,
+and love's soft voice and wistful eyes soon coaxed it out of him. "Dear
+Charles," said she, "never mind. It is mortifying; but think how much
+you have, and how little that wicked man has. Let him have that farm;
+he has lost his self-respect, and that is worth a great many farms. For
+my part, I pity the poor wretch. Let him try to annoy you; your wife
+will try, against him, to make you happy, my own beloved; and I think I
+may prove as strong as Mr. Bassett," said she, with a look of
+inspiration.
+
+Her sweet and tender sympathy soon healed so slight a scratch.
+
+But they had not done with "Splatchett's" yet. Just after Christmas Sir
+Charles invited three gentlemen to beat his more distant preserves.
+Their guns bellowed in quick succession through the woods, and at last
+they reached North Wood. Here they expected splendid shooting, as a
+great many cock pheasants had already been seen running ahead.
+
+But when they got to the end of the wood they found Lawyer Wheeler
+standing against a tree just within "Splatchett's" boundary, and one of
+their own beaters reported that two boys were stationed in the road,
+each tapping two sticks together to confine the pheasants to that strip
+of land, on which the low larches and high grass afforded a strong
+covert.
+
+Sir Charles halted on his side of the boundary.
+
+Then Wheeler told his man to beat, and up got the cock pheasants, one
+after another. Whenever a pheasant whirred up the man left off beating.
+
+The lawyer knocked down four brace in no time, and those that escaped
+him and turned back for the wood were brought down by Bassett, firing
+from the hard road. Only those were spared that flew northward into
+"Splatchett's." It was a veritable slaughter, planned with judgment,
+and carried out in a most ungentlemanlike and unsportsmanlike manner.
+
+It goaded Sir Charles beyond his patience. After several vain efforts
+to restrain himself, he shouldered his gun, and, followed by his
+friends, went bursting through the larches to Richard Bassett.
+
+"Mr. Bassett," said he, "this is most ungentlernanly conduct."
+
+"What is the matter, sir? Am I on your ground?"
+
+"No, but you are taking a mean advantage of our being out. Who ever
+heard of a gentleman beating his boundaries the very day a neighbor was
+out shooting, and filling them with his game?"
+
+"Oh, that is it, is it? When justice is against you you can talk of
+law, and when law is against you you appeal to justice. Let us be in
+one story or the other, please. The Huntercombe estates belong to me by
+birth. You have got them by legal trickery. Keep them while you live.
+_They will come to me one day, you know._ Meantime, leave me my little
+estate of 'Splatchett's.' For shame, sir; you have robbed me of my
+inheritance and my sweetheart; do you grudge me a few cock pheasants?
+Why, you have made me so poor they are an object to me now."
+
+"Oh!" said Sir Charles, "if you are stealing my game to keep body and
+soul together, I pity you. In that case, perhaps you will let my
+friends help you fill your larder."
+
+Richard Bassett hesitated a moment; but Wheeler, who had drawn near at
+the sound of the raised voices, made him a signal to assent.
+
+"By all means," said he, adroitly. "Mr. Markham, your father often shot
+with mine over the Bassett estates. You are welcome to poor little
+'Splatchett's.' Keep your men off, Sir Charles; they are noisy
+bunglers, and do more harm than good. Here, Tom! Bill! beat for the
+gentlemen. They shall have the sport. I only want the birds."
+
+Sir Charles drew back, and saw pheasant after pheasant thunder and whiz
+into the air, then collapse at a report, and fall like lead, followed
+by a shower of feathers.
+
+His friends seemed to be deserting him for Richard Bassett. He left
+them in charge of his keepers, and went slowly home.
+
+He said nothing to Lady Bassett till night, and then she got it all
+from him. She was very indignant at many of the things; but as for Sir
+Charles, all his cousin's arrows glided off that high-minded gentleman,
+except one, and that quivered in his heart. "Yes, Bella," said he, "he
+told me he should inherit these estates. That is because we are not
+blessed with children."
+
+Lady Bassett sighed. "But we shall be some day. Shall we not?"
+
+"God knows," said Sir Charles, gloomily. "I wonder whether there was
+really anything unfair done on our side when the entail was cut off?"
+
+"Is that likely, dearest? Why?"
+
+"Heaven seems to be on his side."
+
+"On the side of a wicked man?"
+
+"But he may be the father of innocent children."
+
+"Why, he is not even married."
+
+"He will marry. He will not throw a chance away. It makes my head
+dizzy, and my heart sick. Bella, now I can understand two enemies
+meeting alone in some solitary place, and one killing the other in a
+moment of rage; for when this scoundrel insulted me I remembered his
+anonymous letter, and all his relentless malice. Bella, I could have
+raised my gun and shot him like a weasel."
+
+Lady Bassett screamed faintly, and flung her arms round his neck. "Oh,
+Charles, pray to God against such thoughts. You shall never go near
+that man again. Don't think of our one disappointment: think of all the
+blessings we enjoy. Never mind that wretched man's hate. Think of your
+wife's love. Have I not more power to make you happy than he has to
+afflict you, my adored?" These sweet words were accompanied by a wife's
+divine caresses; with the honey of her voice, and the liquid sunshine
+of her loving eyes. Sir Charles slept peacefully that night, and forgot
+his one grief and his one enemy for a time.
+
+Not so Lady Bassett. She lay awake all night and thought deeply of
+Richard Bassett and "his unrelenting, impenitent malice." Women of her
+fine fiber, when they think long and earnestly on one thing, have often
+divinations. The dark future seems to be lit a moment at a time by
+flashes of lightning, and they discern the indistinct form of events to
+come, And so it was with Lady Bassett: in the stilly night a terror of
+the future and of Richard Bassett crept over her--a terror
+disproportioned to his past acts and apparent power. Perhaps she was
+oppressed by having an enemy--she, who was born to be loved. At all
+events, she was full of feminine divinations and forebodings, and saw,
+by flashes, many a poisoned arrow fly from that quiver and strike the
+beloved breast. It had already discharged one that had parted them for
+a time, and nearly killed Sir Charles.
+
+Daylight cleared away much of this dark terror, but left a sober dread
+and a strange resolution. This timid creature, stimulated by love,
+determined to watch the foe, and defend her husband with all her little
+power. All manner of devices passed through her head, but were
+rejected, because, if Love said "Do wonders," Timidity said "Do nothing
+that you have not seen other wives do." So she remained, scheming, and
+longing, and fearing, and passive, all day. But the next day she
+conceived a vague idea, and, all in a heat, rang for her maid. While
+the maid was coming she fell to blushing at her own boldness, and, just
+as the maid opened the door, her thermometer fell so low that--she sent
+her upstairs for a piece of work. Oh, lame and impotent conclusion!
+
+Just before luncheon she chanced to look through a window, and to see
+the head gamekeeper crossing the park, and coming to the house. Now
+this was the very man she wanted to speak to. The sudden temptation
+surprised her out of her timidity. She rang the bell again, and sent
+for the man.
+
+That Colossus wondered in his mind, and felt uneasy at an invitation so
+novel. However, he clattered into the morning-room, in his velveteen
+coat, and leathern gaiters up to his thigh, pulled his front hair,
+bobbed his head, and then stood firm in body as was he of Rhodes, but
+in mind much abashed at finding himself in her ladyship's presence.
+
+The lady, however, did not prove so very terrible. "May I inquire your
+name, sir?" said she, very respectfully.
+
+"Moses Moss, my lady."
+
+"Mr. Moss, I wish to ask you a question or two. _May_ I?"
+
+"That you may, my lady."
+
+"I want you to explain, if you will be so good, how the proprietor of
+'Splatchett's' can shoot all Sir Charles's pheasants."
+
+"Lord! my lady, we ain't come down to that. But he do shoot more than
+his share, that's sure an' sartain. Well, my lady, if you please, game
+is just like Christians: it will make for sunny spots. Highmore has got
+a many of them there, with good cover; so we breeds for him. As for
+'Splatchett's,' that don't hurt we, my lady; it is all arable land and
+dead hedges, with no bottom; only there's one little tongue of it runs
+into North Wood, and planted with larch; and, if you please, my lady,
+there is always a kind of coarse grass grows under young larches, and
+makes a strong cover for game. So, beat North Wood which way you will,
+them artful old cocks will run ahead of ye, or double back into them
+larches. And you see Mr. Bassett is not a gentleman, like Sir Charles;
+he is always a-mouching about, and the biggest poacher in the parish;
+and so he drops on to 'em out of bounds."
+
+"Is there no way of stopping all this, sir?"
+
+"We might station a dozen beaters ahead. They would most likely get
+shot; but I don't think as they'd mind that much if you had set your
+heart on it, my lady. Dall'd if I would, for one."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Moss! Heaven forbid that any man should be shot for me. No,
+not for all the pheasants in the world. I'll try and think of some
+other way. I should like to see the place. _May_ I?"
+
+"Yes, my lady, and welcome."
+
+"How shall I get to it, sir?"
+
+"You can ride to the 'Woodman's Rest,' my lady, and it is scarce a
+stone's-throw from there; but 'tis baddish traveling for the likes of
+you."
+
+She appointed an hour, rode with her groom to the public-house, and
+thence was conducted through bush, through brier, to the place where
+her husband had been so annoyed.
+
+Moss's comments became very intelligible to her the moment she saw the
+place. She said very little, however, and rode home.
+
+Next day she blushed high, and asked Sir Charles for a hundred pounds
+to spend upon herself.
+
+Sir Charles smiled, well pleased, and gave it her, and a kiss into the
+bargain.
+
+"Ah! but," said she, "that is not all."
+
+"I am glad of it. You spend too little money on yourself--a great deal
+too little."
+
+"That is a complaint you won't have long to make. I want to cut down a
+few trees. _May_ I?"
+
+"Going to build?"
+
+"Don't ask me. It is for myself."
+
+"That is enough. Cut down every stick on the estate if you like. The
+barer it leaves us the better."
+
+"Ah, Charles, you promised me not. I shall cut with great discretion, I
+assure you."
+
+"As you please," said Sir Charles. "If you want to make me happy, deny
+yourself nothing. Mind, I shall be angry if you do."
+
+ Soon after this a gaping quidnunc came to Sir Charles and told him
+Lady Bassett was felling trees in North Wood.
+
+"And pray who has a better right to fell trees in any wood of mine?"
+
+"But she is building a wall."
+
+"And who has a better right to build a wall?"
+
+With the delicacy of a gentleman he would not go near the place after
+this till she asked him; and that was not long, She came into his
+study, all beaming, and invited him to a ride. She took him into North
+Wood, and showed him her work. Richard Bassett's plantation, hitherto
+divided from North Wood only by a boundary scarcely visible, was now
+shut off by a brick wall: on Sir Charles's side of that wall every
+stick of timber was felled and removed for a distance of fifty yards,
+and about twenty yards from the wall a belt of larches was planted, a
+little higher than cabbages.
+
+Sir Charles looked amazed at first, but soon observed how thoroughly
+his enemy was defeated. "My poor Bella," said he, "to think of your
+taking all this trouble about such a thing!" He stopped to kiss her
+very tenderly, and she shone with joy and innocent pride. "And I never
+thought of this! You astonish me, Bella."
+
+"Ay," said she, in high spirits now; "and, what is more, I have
+astonished Mr. Moss. He said, 'I wish I had your head-piece, my lady.'
+I could have told him Love sharpens a woman's wits; but I reserved that
+little adage for you."
+
+"It's all mighty fine, fair lady, but you have told me a fib. You said
+it was to be all for yourself, and got a hundred pounds out of me."
+
+"And so it was for myself, you silly thing. Are you not myself? and the
+part of myself I love the best?" And her supple wrist was round his
+neck in a moment.
+
+They rode home together, like lovers, and comforted each other.
+
+
+
+Richard Bassett, with Wheeler's assistance, had borrowed money on
+Highmore to buy "Splatchett's"; he now borrowed money on
+"Splatchett's," and bought Dean's Wood--a wood, with patches of grass,
+that lay on the east of Sir Charles's boundary. He gave seventeen
+hundred pounds for it, and sold two thousand pounds' worth of timber
+off it the first year. This sounds incredible; but, owing to the custom
+of felling only ripe trees, landed proprietors had no sure clew to the
+value of all the timber on an acre. Richard Bassett had found this out,
+and bought Dean's Wood upon the above terms--_i.e.,_ the vender gave
+him the soil and three hundred pounds gratis. He grubbed the roots and
+sold them for fuel, and planted larches to catch the overflow of Sir
+Charles's game. The grass grew beautifully, now the trees were down,
+and he let it for pasture.
+
+He then, still under Wheeler's advice, came out into the world again,
+improved his dress, and called on several county families, with a view
+to marrying money.
+
+Now in the country they do not despise a poor gentleman of good
+lineage, and Bassett was one of the oldest names in the county; so
+every door was open to him; and, indeed, his late hermit life had
+stimulated some curiosity. This he soon turned to sympathy, by telling
+them that he was proud but poor. Robbed of the vast estates that
+belonged to him by birth, he had been unwilling to take a lower
+position. However, Heaven had prospered him; the wrongful heir was
+childless; he was the heir at law, and felt he owed it to the estate,
+which must return to his line, to assume a little more public
+importance than he had done.
+
+Wherever he was received he was sure to enlarge upon his wrongs; and he
+was believed; for he was notoriously the direct heir to Bassett and
+Huntercombe, but the family arrangement by which his father had been
+bought out was known only to a few. He readily obtained sympathy, and
+many persons were disgusted at Sir Charles's illiberality in not making
+him some compensation. To use the homely expression of Govett, a small
+proprietor, the baronet might as well have given him back one pig out
+of his own farrow--_i.e.,_ one of the many farms comprised in that
+large estate.
+
+Sir Charles learned that Richard was undermining him in the county, but
+was too proud to interfere; he told Lady Bassett he should say nothing
+until some _gentleman_ should indorse Mr. Bassett's falsehoods.
+
+One day Sir Charles and Lady Bassett were invited to dine and sleep at
+Mr. Hardwicke's, distance fifteen miles; they went, and found Richard
+Bassett dining there, by Mrs. Hardwicke's invitation, who was one of
+those ninnies that fling guests together with no discrimination.
+
+Richard had expected this to happen sooner or later, so he was
+comparatively prepared, and bowed stiffly to Sir Charles. Sir Charles
+stared at him in return. This was observed. People were uncomfortable,
+especially Mrs. Hardwicke, whose thoughtlessness was to blame for it
+all.
+
+At a very early hour Sir Charles ordered his carriage, and drove home,
+instead of staying all night.
+
+Mrs. Hardwicke, being a fool, must make a little more mischief. She
+blubbered to her husband, and he wrote Sir Charles a remonstrance.
+
+Sir Charles replied that he was the only person aggrieved; Mr.
+Hardwicke ought not to have invited a blackguard to meet _him._
+
+Mr. Hardwicke replied that he had never heard a Bassett called a
+blackguard before, and had seen nothing in Mr. Bassett to justify an
+epithet so unusual among gentlemen. "And, to be frank with you, Sir
+Charles," said he, "I think this bitterness against a poor gentleman,
+whose estates you are so fortunate as to possess, is not consistent
+with your general character, and is, indeed, unworthy of you."
+
+To this Sir Charles Bassett replied:
+
+
+
+"DEAR MR. HARDWICK--You have applied some remarks to me which I will
+endeavor to forget, as they were written in entire ignorance of the
+truth. But if we are to remain friends, I expect you to believe me when
+I tell you that Mr. Richard Bassett has never been wronged by me or
+mine, but has wronged me and Lady Bassett deeply. He is a dishonorable
+scoundrel, not entitled to be received in society; and if, after this
+assurance, you receive him, I shall never darken your doors again. So
+please let me know your decision.
+
+"I remain
+
+"Yours truly,
+
+"CHARLES DYKE BASSETT."
+
+
+
+Mr. Hardwicke chafed under this; but Prudence stepped in. He was one of
+the county members, and Sir Charles could command three hundred votes.
+
+He wrote back to say he had received Sir Charles's letter with pain,
+but, of course, he could not disbelieve him, and therefore he should
+invite Mr. Bassett no more till the matter was cleared.
+
+But Mr. Hardwicke, thus brought to book, was nettled at his own
+meanness; so he sent Sir Charles's letter to Mr. Richard Bassett.
+
+Bassett foamed with rage, and wrote a long letter, raving with insults,
+to Sir Charles.
+
+He was in the act of directing it when Wheeler called on him. Bassett
+showed him Sir Charles's letter. Wheeler read it.
+
+"Now read what I say to him in reply."
+
+Wheeler read Bassett's letter, threw it into the fire, and kept it
+there with the poker.
+
+"Lucky I called," said he, dryly. "Saved you a thousand pounds or so.
+You must not write a letter without me."
+
+"What, am I to sit still and be insulted? You're a pretty friend."
+
+"I am a wise friend. This is a more serious matter than you seem to
+think."
+
+"Libel?"
+
+"Of course. Why, if Sir Charles had consulted _me,_ I could not have
+dictated a better letter. It closes every chink a defendant in libel
+can creep out by. Now take your pen and write to Mr. Hardwicke."
+
+
+
+"DEAR SIR--I have received your letter, containing a libel written by
+Sir Charles Bassett. My reply will be public.
+
+"Yours very truly,
+
+"RICHARD BASSETT."
+
+
+
+"Is that all?"
+
+"Every syllable. Now mind; you never go to Hardwicke House again; Sir
+Charles has got you banished from that house; special damage! There
+never was a prettier case for a jury--the rightful heir foully
+slandered by the possessor of his hereditary estates."
+
+This picture excited Bassett, and he walked about raving with malice,
+and longing for the time when he should stand in the witness-box and
+denounce his enemy.
+
+"No, no," said Wheeler, "leave that to counsel; you must play the mild
+victim in the witness-box. Who is the defendant solicitor? We ought to
+serve the writ on him at once."
+
+"No, no; serve it on himself."
+
+"What for? Much better proceed like gentlemen."
+
+Bassett got in a passion at being contradicted in everything. "I tell
+you," said he, "the more I can irritate and exasperate this villain the
+better. Besides, he slandered me behind my back; and I'll have the writ
+served upon himself. I'll do everything I can to take him down. If a
+man wants to be my lawyer he must enter into my feelings a little."
+
+Wheeler, to whom he was more valuable than ever now, consented somewhat
+reluctantly, and called at Huntercombe Hall next day with the writ, and
+sent in his card.
+
+Lady Bassett heard of this, and asked if it was Mr. Bassett's friend.
+
+The butler said he thought it was.
+
+Lady Bassett went to Sir Charles in his study. "Oh, my dear," said she,
+"here is Mr. Bassett's lawyer."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Why does he come here?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Don't see him."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I am so afraid of Mr. Bassett. He is our evil genius. Let me see this
+person instead of you. _May_ I?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"Might I see him _first,_ love?"
+
+"You will not see him at all."
+
+"Charles!"
+
+"No, Bella; I cannot have these animals talking to my wife."
+
+"But, dear love, I am so full of forebodings. You know, Charles, I
+don't often presume to meddle; but I am in torture about this man. If
+you receive him, may I be with you? Then we shall be two to one."
+
+"No, no," said Sir Charles, testily. Then, seeing her beautiful eyes
+fill at the refusal and the unusual tone, he relented. "You may be in
+hearing if you like. Open that door, and sit in the little room."
+
+"Oh, thank you!"
+
+She stepped into the room--a very small sitting-room. She had never
+been in it before, and while she was examining it, and thinking how she
+could improve its appearance, Mr. Wheeler was shown into the study. Sir
+Charles received him standing, to intimate that the interview must be
+brief. This, and the time he had been kept waiting in the hall, roused
+Wheeler's bile, and he entered on his subject more bruskly than he had
+intended.
+
+"Sir Charles Bassett, you wrote a letter to Mr. Hardwicke, reflecting
+on my client, Mr. Bassett--a most unjustifiable letter."
+
+"Keep your opinion to yourself, sir. I wrote a letter, calling him what
+he is."
+
+"No, sir; that letter is a libel."
+
+"It is the truth."
+
+"It is a malicious libel, sir; and we shall punish you for it. I hereby
+serve you with this copy of a writ. Damages, five thousand pounds."
+
+A sigh from the next room passed unnoticed by the men, for their voices
+were now raised in anger.
+
+"And so that is what you came here for. Why did you not go to my
+solicitor? You must be as great a blackguard as your client, to serve
+your paltry writs on me in my own house."
+
+"Not blackguard enough to insult a gentleman in my own house. If you
+had been civil I might have accommodated matters; but now I'll make you
+smart--ugh!"
+
+Nothing provokes a high-spirited man more than a menace. Sir Charles,
+threatened in his wife's hearing, shot out his right arm with
+surprising force and rapidity, and knocked Wheeler down in a moment.
+
+In came Lady Bassett, with a scream, and saw the attorney lying doubled
+up, and Sir Charles standing over him, blowing like a grampus with rage
+and excitement.
+
+But the next moment be staggered and gasped, and she had to support him
+to a seat. She rang the bell for aid, then kneeled, and took his
+throbbing temples to her wifely bosom.
+
+Wheeler picked himself up, and, seated on his hams, eyed the pair with
+concentrated fury.
+
+"Aha! You have hurt yourself more than me. Two suits against you now
+instead of one."
+
+"Conduct this person from the house," said Lady Bassett to a servant
+who entered at that moment.
+
+"All right, my lady," said Wheeler; "I'll remind you of that word when
+this house belongs to us."
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+WITH this bitter reply Wheeler retired precipitately; the shaft pierced
+but one bosom; for the devoted wife, with the swift ingenuity of
+woman's love, had put both her hands right over her husband's ears that
+he might hear no more insults.
+
+Sir Charles very nearly had a fit; but his wife loosened his neckcloth,
+caressed his throbbing head, and applied eau-de-Cologne to his
+nostrils. He got better, but felt dizzy for about an hour. She made him
+come into her room and lie down; she hung over him, curling as a vine
+and light as a bird, and her kisses lit softly as down upon his eyes,
+and her words of love and pity murmured music in his ears till he
+slept, and that danger passed.
+
+For a day or two after this both Sir Charles and Lady Bassett avoided
+the unpleasant subject. But it had to be faced; so Mr. Oldfield was
+summoned to Huntercombe, and all engagements given up for the day, that
+he might dine alone with them and talk the matter over.
+
+Sir Charles thought he could justify; but when it came to the point he
+could only prove that Richard had done several ungentleman-like things
+of a nature a stout jury would consider trifles.
+
+Mr. Oldfield said of course they must enter an appearance; and, this
+done, the wisest course would be to let him see Wheeler, and try to
+compromise the suit. "It will cost you a thousand pounds, Sir Charles,
+I dare say; but if it teaches you never to write of an enemy or to an
+enemy without showing your lawyer the letter first, the lesson will be
+cheap. Somebody in the Bible says, 'Oh, that mine enemy would write a
+book!' I say, 'Oh, that he would write a letter--without consulting his
+solicitor."
+
+It was Lady Bassett's cue now to make light of troubles. "What does it
+matter, Mr. Oldfield? All they want is money. Yes, offer them a
+thousand pounds to leave him in peace."
+
+So next day Mr. Oldfield called on Wheeler, all smiles and civility,
+and asked him if he did not think it a pity cousins should quarrel
+before the whole county.
+
+"A great pity," said Wheeler. "But my client has no alternative. No
+gentleman in the county would speak to him if he sat quiet under such
+contumely."
+
+After beating about the bush the usual time, Oldfield said that Sir
+Charles was hungry for litigation, but that Lady Bassett was averse to
+it. "In short, Mr. Wheeler, I will try and get Mr. Bassett a thousand
+pounds to forego this scandal."
+
+"I will consult him, and let you know," said Wheeler. "He happens to be
+in the town."
+
+Oldfield called again in an hour. Wheeler told him a thousand pounds
+would be accepted, with a written apology.
+
+Oldfield shook his head. "Sir Charles will never write an apology:
+right or wrong, he is too sincere in his conviction."
+
+"He will never get a jury to share it."
+
+"You must not be too sure of that. You don't know the defense."
+
+Oldfield said this with a gravity which did him credit.
+
+"Do you know it yourself?" said the other keen hand.
+
+Mr. Oldfield smiled haughtily, but said nothing. Wheeler had hit the
+mark.
+
+"By the by," said the latter, "there is another little matter. Sir
+Charles assaulted me for doing my duty to my client. I mean to sue him.
+Here is the writ; will you accept service?"
+
+"Oh, certainly, Mr. Wheeler and I am glad to find you do not make a
+habit of serving writs on gentlemen in person."
+
+"Of course not. I did it on a single occasion, contrary to my own wish,
+and went in person--to soften the blow--instead of sending my clerk."
+
+After this little spar, the two artists in law bade each other farewell
+with every demonstration of civility.
+
+Sir Charles would not apologize.
+
+The plaintiff filed his declaration.
+
+The defendant pleaded not guilty, but did not disclose a defense. The
+law allows a defendant in libel this advantage.
+
+Plaintiff joined issue, and the trial was set down for the next
+assizes.
+
+Sir Charles was irritated, but nothing more. Lady Bassett, with a
+woman's natural shrinking from publicity, felt it more deeply. She
+would have given thousands of her own money to keep the matter out of
+court. But her very terror of Richard Bassett restrained her. She was
+always thinking about him, and had convinced herself he was the ablest
+villain in the wide world; and she thought to herself, "If, with his
+small means, he annoys Charles so, what would he do if I were to enrich
+him? He would crush us."
+
+As the trial drew near she began to hover about Sir Charles in his
+study, like an anxious hen. The maternal yearnings were awakened in her
+by marriage, and she had no child; so her Charles in trouble was
+husband and child.
+
+Sometimes she would come in and just kiss his forehead, and run out
+again, casting back a celestial look of love at the door, and, though
+it was her husband she had kissed, she blushed divinely. At last one
+day she crept in and said, very timidly, "Charles dear, the anonymous
+letter--is not that an excuse for libeling him--as they call telling
+the truth?"
+
+"Why, of course it is. Have you got it?"
+
+"Dearest, the brave lady took it away."
+
+"The brave lady! Who is that?"
+
+"Why, the lady that came with Mr. Oldfield and pleaded your cause with
+papa--oh, so eloquently! Sometimes when I think of it now I feel almost
+jealous. Who is she?"
+
+"From what you have always told me, I think it was the Sister of
+Charity who nursed me."
+
+"You silly thing, she was no Sister of Charity; that was only put on.
+Charles, tell me the truth. What does it matter _now?_ It was some lady
+who loved you."
+
+"Loved me, and set her wits to work to marry me to you?"
+
+"Women's love is so disinterested--sometimes."
+
+"No, no; she told me she was a sister of--, and no doubt that is the
+truth."
+
+"A sister of whom?"
+
+"No matter: don't remind me of the past; it is odious to me; and, on
+second thoughts, rather than stir up all that mud, it would be better
+not to use the anonymous letter, even if you could get it again."
+
+Lady Bassett begged him to take advice on that; meantime she would try
+to get the letter, and also the evidence that Richard Bassett wrote it.
+
+"I see no harm in that," said Sir Charles; "only confine your
+communication to Mr. Oldfield. I will not have you speaking or writing
+to a woman I don't know: and the more I think of her conduct the less I
+understand it."
+
+"There are people who do good by stealth," suggested Bella timidly.
+
+"Fiddledeedee!" replied Sir Charles; "you are a goose--I mean an
+angel."
+
+Lady Bassett complied with the letter, but, goose or not, evaded the
+spirit of Sir Charles's command with considerable dexterity.
+
+
+
+"DEAR MR. OLDFIELD--You may guess what trouble I am in. Sir Charles
+will soon have to appear in open court, and be talked against by some
+great orator. That anonymous letter Mr. Bassett wrote me was very base,
+and is surely some justification of the violent epithets my dear
+husband, in an unhappy moment of irritation, has applied to him. The
+brave lady has it. I am sure she will not refuse to send it me. I wish
+I dare ask her to give it me with her own hand; but I must not, I
+suppose. Pray tell her how unhappy I am, and perhaps she will favor us
+with a word of advice as well as the letter.
+
+"I remain, yours faithfully,
+
+"BELLA BASSETT."
+
+
+
+This letter was written at the brave lady; and Mr. Oldfield did what
+was expected, he sent Miss Somerset a copy of Lady Bassett's letter,
+and some lines in his own hand, describing Sir Charles's difficulty in
+a more businesslike way.
+
+In due course Miss Somerset wrote him back that she was in the country,
+hunting, at no very great distance from Huntercombe Hall; she would
+sent up to town for her desk; the letter would be there, if she had
+kept it at all.
+
+Oldfield groaned at this cool conjecture, and wrote back directly,
+urging expedition.
+
+This produced an effect that he had not anticipated.
+
+One morning Lord Harrowdale's foxhounds met at a large covert, about
+five miles from Huntercombe, and Sir Charles told Lady Bassett she must
+ride to cover.
+
+"Yes, dear. Charles, love, I have no spirit to appear in public. We
+shall soon have publicity enough."
+
+"That is my reason. I have not done nor said anything I am ashamed of,
+and you will meet the county on this and on every public occasion."
+
+"I obey," said Bella.
+
+"And look your best."
+
+"I will, dearest."
+
+"And be in good spirits."
+
+"Must I?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I will try. Oh!--oh!--oh!"
+
+"Why, you poor-spirited little goose! Dry your eyes this moment."
+
+"There. Oh!"
+
+"And kiss me."
+
+"There. Ah! kissing you is a great comfort."
+
+"It is one you are particularly welcome to. Now run away and put on
+your habit. I'll have two grooms out; one with a fresh horse for me,
+and one to look after you."
+
+"Oh, Charles! Pray don't make me hunt."
+
+"No, no. Not so tyrannical as that; hang it all!"
+
+"Do you know what I do while you are hunting? I pray all the time that
+you may not get a fall and be hurt; and I pray God to forgive you and
+all the gentlemen for your cruelty in galloping with all those dogs
+after one poor little inoffensive thing, to hunt it and kill it--kill
+it twice, indeed; once with terror, and then over again with mangling
+its poor little body."
+
+"This is cheerful," said Sir Charles, rather ruefully. "We cannot all
+be angels, like you. It is a glorious excitement. There! you are too
+good for this world; I'll let you off going."
+
+"Oh no, dear. I won't be let off, now I know your wish. Only I beg to
+ride home as soon as the poor thing runs away. You wouldn't get me out
+of the thick covers if I were a fox. I'd run round and round, and call
+on all my acquaintances to set them running."
+
+As she said this her eyes turned toward each other in a peculiar way,
+and she looked extremely foxy; but the look melted away directly.
+
+The hounds met, and Lady Bassett, who was still the beauty of the
+county, was surrounded by riders at first; but as the hounds began to
+work, and every now and then a young hound uttered a note, they
+cantered about, and took up different posts, as experience suggested.
+
+At last a fox was found at the other end of the cover, and away
+galloped the hunters in that direction, all but four persons, Lady
+Bassett, and her groom, who kept respectfully aloof, and a lady and
+gentleman who had reined their horses up on a rising ground about a
+furlong distant.
+
+Lady Bassett, thus left alone, happened to look round, and saw the lady
+level an opera-glass toward her and look through it.
+
+As a result of this inspection the lady cantered toward her. She was on
+a chestnut gelding of great height and bone, and rode him as if they
+were one, so smoothly did she move in concert with his easy,
+magnificent strides.
+
+When she came near Lady Bassett she made a little sweep and drew up
+beside her on the grass.
+
+There was no mistaking that tall figure and commanding face. It was the
+brave lady. Her eyes sparkled; her cheek was slightly colored with
+excitement; she looked healthier and handsomer than ever, and also more
+feminine, for a reason the sagacious reader may perhaps discern if he
+attends to the dialogue.
+
+_"So,"_ said she, without bowing or any other ceremony, "that little
+rascal is troubling you again."
+
+Lady Bassett colored and panted, and looked lovingly at her, before she
+could speak. At last she said, "Yes; and you have come to help us
+again."
+
+"Well, the lawyer said there was no time to lose; so I have brought you
+the anonymous letter."
+
+"Oh, thank you, madam, thank you."
+
+"But I'm afraid it will be of no use unless you can prove Mr. Bassett
+wrote it. It is in a disguised hand."
+
+"But you found him out by means of another letter."
+
+"Yes; but I can't give you that other letter to have it read in a court
+of law, because--Do you see that gentleman there?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That is Marsh."
+
+"Oh, is it?"
+
+"He is a fool; but I am going to marry him. I have been very ill since
+I saw you, and poor Marsh nursed me. Talk of women nurses! If ever you
+are ill in earnest, as I was, write to me, and I'll send you Marsh. Oh,
+I have no words to tell you his patience, his forbearance, his
+watchfulness, his tenderness to a sick woman. It is no use--I must
+marry him; and I could have no letter published that would give him
+pain."
+
+"Of course not. Oh, madam, do you think I am capable of doing anything
+that would give you pain, or dear Mr. Marsh either?"
+
+"No, no; you are a good woman."
+
+"Not half so good as you are."
+
+"You don't know what you are saying."
+
+"Oh yes, I do."
+
+"Then I say no more; it is rude to contradict. Good-by, Lady Bassett."
+
+"Must you leave me so soon? Will you not visit us? May I not know the
+name of so good a friend?"
+
+"Next week I shall be _Mrs. Marsh."_
+
+"And you will give me the great pleasure of having you at my house--you
+and your husband?"
+
+The lady showed some agitation at this--an unusual thing for her. She
+faltered: "Some day, perhaps, if I make him as good a wife as I hope
+to. What a lady you are! Vulgar people are ashamed to be grateful; but
+you are a born lady. Good-by, before I make a fool of myself; and they
+are all coming this way, by the dogs' music."
+
+"Won't you kiss me, after bringing me this?"
+
+"Kiss you?" and she opened her eyes.
+
+"If you please," said Lady Bassett, bending toward her, with eyes full
+of gratitude and tenderness.
+
+Then the other woman took her by the shoulders, and plunged her great
+gray orbs into Bella's.
+
+They kissed each other.
+
+At that contact the stranger seemed to change her character all in a
+moment. She strained Bella to her bosom and kissed her passionately,
+and sobbed out, wildly, "O God! you are good to sinners. This is the
+happiest hour of my life--it is a forerunner. Bless you, sweet dove of
+innocence! You will be none the worse, and I am all the better--Ah!
+Sir Charles. Not one word about me to him."
+
+And with these words, uttered with sudden energy, she spurred her great
+horse, leaped the ditch, and burst through the dead hedge into the
+wood, and winded out of sight among the trees.
+
+Sir Charles came up astonished. "Why, who was that?"
+
+Bella's eyes began to rove, as I have before described; but she replied
+pretty promptly, "The brave lady herself; she brought me the anonymous
+letter for your defense."
+
+"Why, how came she to know about it?"
+
+"She did not tell me that. She was in a great hurry. Her fiance was
+waiting for her."
+
+"Was it necessary to kiss her in the hunting-field?" said Sir Charles,
+with something very like a frown.
+
+"I'd kiss the whole field, grooms and all, if they did you a great
+service, as that dear lady has," said Bella. The words were brave, but
+the accent piteous.
+
+"You are excited, Bella. You had better ride home," said Sir Charles,
+gently enough, but moodily.
+
+"Thank you, Charles," said Bella, glad to escape further examination
+about this mysterious lady. She rode home accordingly. There she found
+Mr. Oldfield, and showed him the anonymous letter.
+
+He read it, and said it was a defense, but a disagreeable one. "Suppose
+he says he wrote it, and the facts were true?"
+
+"But I don't think he will confess it. He is not a gentleman. He is
+very untruthful. Can we not make this a trap to catch him, sir? _He_
+has no scruples."
+
+Oldfield looked at her in some surprise at her depth.
+
+"We must get hold of his handwriting," said he. "We must ransack the
+local banks; find his correspondents."
+
+"Leave all that to me," said Lady Bassett, in a low voice.
+
+ Mr. Oldfield thought he might as well please a beautiful and loving
+woman, if he could; so he gave her something to do for her husband.
+"Very well; collect all the materials of comparison you can--letters,
+receipts, etc. Meantime I will retain the two principal experts in
+London, and we will submit your materials to them the night before the
+trial."
+
+Lady Bassett, thus instructed, drove to all the banks, but found no
+clerk acquainted with Mr. Bassett's handwriting. He did not bank with
+anybody in the county.
+
+She called on several persons she thought likely to possess letters or
+other writings of Richard Bassett. Not a scrap.
+
+Then she began to fear. The case looked desperate.
+
+Then she began to think. And she thought very hard indeed, especially
+at night.
+
+In the dead of night she had an idea. She got up, and stole from her
+husband's side, and studied the anonymous letter.
+
+Next day she sat down with the anonymous letter on her desk, and
+blushed, and trembled, and looked about like some wild animal scared.
+She selected from the anonymous letter several words--"character,
+abused, Sir, Charles, Bassett, lady, abandoned, friend, whether, ten,
+slanderer" etc.--and wrote them on a slip of paper. Then she locked up
+the anonymous letter. Then she locked the door. Then she sat down to a
+sheet of paper, and, after some more wild and furtive glances all
+around, she gave her whole mind to writing a letter.
+
+And to whom did she write, think you?
+
+To Richard Bassett.
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+"MR. BASSETT--I am sure both yourself and my husband will suffer in
+public estimation, unless some friend comes between you, and this
+unhappy lawsuit is given up.
+
+"Do not think me blind nor presumptuous; Sir Charles, when he wrote
+that letter, had reason to believe you had done him a deep injury by
+unfair means. Many will share that opinion if this cause is tried. You
+are his cousin, and his heir at law. I dread to see an unhappy feud
+inflamed by a public trial. Is there no personal sacrifice by which I
+can compensate the affront you have received, without compromising Sir
+Charles Bassett's veracity, who is the soul of honor?
+
+"I am, yours obediently,
+
+"BELLA BASSETT."
+
+
+
+She posted this letter, and Richard Bassett had no sooner received it
+than he mounted his horse and rode to Wheeler's with it.
+
+That worthy's eyes sparkled. "Capital!" said he. "We must draw her on,
+and write an answer that will read well in court."
+
+He concocted an epistle just the opposite of what Richard Bassett, left
+to himself, would have written. Bassett copied, and sent it as his own.
+
+
+
+"LADY BASSETT--I thank you for writing to me at this moment, when I am
+weighed down by slander. Your own character stands so high that you
+would not deign to write to me if you believed the abuse that has been
+lavished on me. With you I deplore this family feud. It is not of my
+seeking; and as for this lawsuit, it is one in which the plaintiff is
+really the defendant. Sir Charles has written a defamatory letter,
+which has closed every house in this county to his victim. If, as I now
+feel sure, you disapprove the libel, pray persuade him to retract it.
+The rest our lawyers can settle,
+
+"Yours very respectfully,
+
+"RICHARD BASSETT."
+
+
+
+When Lady Bassett read this, she saw she had an adroit opponent. Yet
+she wrote again:
+
+
+
+"MR. BASSETT--There are limits to my influence with Sir Charles. I have
+no power to make him say one word against his convictions.
+
+"But my lawyer tells me you seek pecuniary compensation for an affront.
+I offer you, out of my own means, which are ample, that which you
+seek--offer it freely and heartily; and I honestly think you had better
+receive it from me than expose yourself to the risks and mortifications
+of a public trial.
+
+"I am, yours obediently,
+
+"BELLA BASSETT."
+
+
+
+"LADY BASSETT--You have fallen into a very natural error. It is true I
+sue Sir Charles Bassett for money; but that is only because the law
+allows me my remedy in no other form. What really brings me into court
+is the defense of my injured honor. How do you meet me? You say,
+virtually, 'Never mind your character: here is money.' Permit me to
+decline it on such terms.
+
+"A public insult cannot be cured in private.
+
+"Strong in my innocence, and my wrongs, I court what you call the risks
+of a public trial.
+
+"Whatever the result, _you_ have played the honorable and womanly part
+of peacemaker; and it is unfortunate for your husband that your gentle
+influence is limited by his vanity, which perseveres in a cruel
+slander, instead of retracting it while there is yet time.
+
+"I am, madam, yours obediently,
+
+"RICHARD BASSETT."
+
+
+
+"MR. BASSETT--I retire from a correspondence which appears to be
+useless, and might, if prolonged, draw some bitter remark from me, as
+it has from you.
+
+"After the trial, which you court and I deprecate, you will perhaps
+review my letters with a more friendly eye.
+
+"I am, yours obediently,
+
+"BELLA BASSETT."
+
+
+
+In this fencing-match between a lawyer and a lady each gained an
+advantage. The lawyer's letters, as might have been expected, were the
+best adapted to be read to a jury; but the lady, subtler in her way,
+obtained, at a small sacrifice, what she wanted, and that without
+raising the slightest suspicion of her true motive in the
+correspondence.
+
+She announced her success to Mr. Oldfield; but, in the midst of it, she
+quaked with terror at the thought of what Sir Charles would say to her
+for writing to Mr. Bassett at all.
+
+She now, with the changeableness of her sex, hoped and prayed Mr.
+Bassett would admit the anonymous letter, and so all her subtlety and
+pains prove superfluous.
+
+Quaking secretly, but with a lovely face and serene front, she took her
+place at the assizes, before the judge, and got as near him as she
+could.
+
+The court was crowded, and many ladies present.
+
+_Bassett v. Bassett_ was called in a loud voice; there was a hum of
+excitement, then a silence of expectation, and the plaintiff's counsel
+rose to address the jury.
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+"MAY it please your Lordship: Gentlemen of the Jury--The plaintiff in
+this case is Richard Bassett, Esquire, the direct and lineal
+representative of that old and honorable family, whose monuments are to
+be seen in several churches in this county, and whose estates are the
+largest, I believe, in the county. He would have succeeded, as a matter
+of course, to those estates, but for an arrangement made only a year
+before he was born, by which, contrary to nature and justice, he was
+denuded of those estates, and they passed to the defendant. The
+defendant is nowise to blame for that piece of injustice; but he
+profits by it, and it might be expected that his good fortune would
+soften his heart toward his unfortunate relative. I say that if
+uncommon tenderness might be expected to be shown by anybody to this
+deserving and unfortunate gentleman, it would be by Sir Charles
+Bassett, who enjoys his cousin's ancestral estates, and can so well
+appreciate what that cousin has lost by no fault of his own."
+
+"Hear! hear!"
+
+"Silence in the court!"
+
+_The Judge._--I must request that there may be no manifestation of
+feeling.
+
+_Counsel._--I will endeavor to provoke none, my lord. It is a very
+simple case, and I shall not occupy you long. Well, gentlemen, Mr.
+Bassett is a poor man, by no fault of his; but if he is poor, he is
+proud and honorable. He has met the frowns of fortune like a
+gentleman--like a man. He has not solicited government for a place. He
+has not whined nor lamented. He has dignified unmerited poverty by
+prudence and self-denial; and, unable to forget that he is a Bassett,
+he has put by a little money every year, and bought a small estate or
+two, and had even applied to the Lord-Lieutenant to make him a justice
+of the peace, when a most severe and unexpected blow fell upon him.
+Among those large proprietors who respected him in spite of his humbler
+circumstances was Mr. Hardwicke, one of the county members. Well,
+gentlemen, on the 21st of last May Mr. Bassett received a letter from
+Mr. Hardwicke inclosing one purporting to be from Sir Charles Bassett--
+
+_The Judge._--Does Sir Charles Bassett admit the letter?
+
+_Defendant's Counsel_ (after a word with Oldfield).--Yes, my lord.
+
+_Plaintiff's Counsel._--A letter admitted to be written by Sir Charles
+Bassett. That letter shall be read to you.
+
+The letter was then read.
+
+The counsel resumed: "Conceive, if you can, the effect of this blow,
+just as my unhappy and most deserving client was rising a little in the
+world. I shall prove that it excluded him from Mr. Hardwicke's house,
+and other houses too. He is a man of too much importance to risk
+affronts. He has never entered the door of any gentleman in this county
+since his powerful relative published this cruel libel. He has drawn
+his Spartan cloak around him, and he awaits your verdict to resume that
+place among you which is due to him in every way--due to him as the
+heir in direct line to the wealth, and, above all, to the honor of the
+Bassetts; due to him as Sir Charles Bassett's heir at law; and due to
+him on account of the decency and fortitude with which he has borne
+adversity, and with which he now repels foul-mouthed slander."
+
+"Hear! hear!"
+
+"Silence in the court!"
+
+"I have done, gentlemen, for the present. Indeed, eloquence, even if I
+possessed it, would be superfluous; the facts speak for
+themselves.--Call James Hardwicke, Esq."
+
+Mr. Hardwicke proved the receipt of the letter from Sir Charles, and
+that he had sent it to Mr. Bassett; and that Mr. Bassett had not
+entered his house since then, nor had he invited him.
+
+Mr. Bassett was then called, and, being duly trained by Wheeler,
+abstained from all heat, and wore an air of dignified dejection. His
+counsel examined him, and his replies bore out the opening statement.
+Everybody thought him sure of a verdict.
+
+He was then cross-examined. Defendant's counsel pressed him about his
+unfair way of shooting. The judge interfered, and said that was
+trifling. If there was no substantial defense, why not settle the
+matter?
+
+"There is a defense, my lord."
+
+"Then it is time you disclosed it."
+
+"Very well, my lord. Mr. Bassett, did you ever write an anonymous
+letter?"
+
+"Not that I remember."
+
+"Oh, that appears to you a trifle. It is not so considered."
+
+_The Judge._--Be more particular in your question.
+
+"I will, my lord.--Did you ever write an anonymous letter, to make
+mischief between Sir Charles and Lady Bassett?"
+
+"Never," said the witness; but he turned pale.
+
+"Do you mean to say you did not write this letter to Miss Bruce? Look
+at the letter, Mr. Bassett, before you reply."
+
+Bassett cast one swift glance of agony at Wheeler; then braced himself
+like iron. He examined the letter attentively, turned it over, lived an
+age, and said it was not his writing.
+
+"Do you swear that?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+_Defendant's Counsel._--I shall ask your lordship to take down that
+reply. If persisted in, my client will indict the witness for perjury.
+
+_Plaintiff's Counsel._--Don't threaten the witness as well as insult
+him, please.
+
+_The Judge._--He is an educated man, and knows the duty he owes to God
+and the defendant.--Take time, Mr. Bassett, and recollect. Did you
+write that letter?"
+
+"No, my lord."
+
+Counsel waited for the judge to note the reply, then proceeded.
+
+"You have lately corresponded with Lady Bassett, I think?"
+
+"Yes. Her ladyship opened a correspondence with me."
+
+"It is a lie!" roared Sir Charles Bassett from the door of the grand
+jury room.
+
+"Silence in the court!"
+
+_The Judge._--Who made that unseemly remark?
+
+_Sir Charles._--I did, my lord. My wife never corresponded with the
+cur.
+
+_The Plaintiff._--It is only one insult more, gentlemen, and as false
+as the rest. Permit me, my lord. My own counsel would never have put
+the question. I would not, for the world, give Lady Bassett pain; but
+Sir Charles and his counsel have extorted the truth from me. Her
+ladyship did open a correspondence with me, and a friendly one.
+
+_The Plaintiff's Counsel._--Will your lordship ask whether that was
+after the defendant had written the libel?
+
+The question was put, and answered in the affirmative.
+
+Lady Bassett hid her face in her hands. Sir Charles saw the movement,
+and groaned aloud.
+
+_The Judge._--I beg the case may not be encumbered with irrelevant
+matter.
+
+Counsel replied that the correspondence would be made evidence in the
+case. _(To the witness.)_--You wrote this letter to Lady Bassett?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And every word in it?"
+
+"And every word in it," faltered Bassett, now ashy pale, for he began
+to see the trap.
+
+"Then you wrote this word 'character,' and this word 'injured,' and
+this word--"
+
+_The Judge_ (peevishly).--He tells you he wrote every word in those
+letters to Lady Bassett.--What more would you have?
+
+_Counsel._--If your lordship will be good enough to examine the
+correspondence, and compare those words in it I have underlined with
+the same words in the anonymous letter, you will perhaps find I know my
+business better than you seem to think. (The counsel who ventured on
+this remonstrance was a sergeant.)
+
+"Brother Eitherside," said the judge, with a charming manner, "you
+satisfied me of that, to my cost, long ago, whenever I had you against
+me in a case. Please hand me the letters."
+
+While the judge was making a keen comparison, counsel continued the
+cross-examination.
+
+"You are aware that this letter caused a separation between Sir Charles
+Bassett and the lady he was engaged to?"
+
+"I know nothing about it."
+
+"Indeed! Well, were you acquainted with the Miss Somerset mentioned in
+this letter?"
+
+"Slightly."
+
+"You have been at her house?"
+
+"Once or twice."
+
+"Which? Twice is double as often as once, you know."
+
+"Twice."
+
+"No more?"
+
+"Not that I recollect."
+
+"You wrote to her?"
+
+"I may have."
+
+"Did you, or did you not?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"What was the purport of that letter?"
+
+"I can't recollect at this distance of time."
+
+"On your oath, sir, did you not write urging her to co-operate with you
+to keep Sir Charles Bassett from marrying his affianced, Miss Bella
+Bruce, to whom that anonymous letter was written with the same object?"
+
+The perspiration now rolled in visible drops down the tortured liar's
+face. Yet still, by a gigantic effort, he stood firm, and even planted
+a blow.
+
+"I did not write the anonymous letter. But I believe I told Miss
+Somerset I loved Miss Bruce, and that _her_ lover was robbing me of
+mine, as he had robbed me of everything else."
+
+"And that was all you said--on your oath?"
+
+"All I can recollect." With this the strong man, cowed, terrified,
+expecting his letter to Somerset to be produced, and so the iron chain
+of evidence completed, gasped out, "Man, you tear open all my wounds at
+once!" and with this burst out sobbing, and lamenting aloud that he had
+ever been born.
+
+Counsel waited calmly till he should be in a condition to receive
+another dose.
+
+"Oh, will nobody stop this cruel trial?" said Lady Bassett, with the
+tears trickling down her face.
+
+The judge heard this remark without seeming to do so.
+
+He said to defendant's counsel, "Whatever the truth may be, you have
+proved enough to show Sir Charles Bassett might well have an honest
+conviction that Mr. Bassett had done a dastardly act. Whether a jury
+would ever agree on a question of handwriting must always be doubtful.
+Looking at the relationship of the parties, is it advisable to carry
+this matter further? If I might advise the gentlemen, they would each
+consent to withdraw a juror."
+
+Upon this suggestion the counsel for both parties put their heads
+together in animated whispers; and during this the judge made a remark
+to the jury, intended for the public: "Since Lady Bassett's name has
+been drawn into this, I must say that I have read her letters to Mr.
+Bassett, and they are such as she could write without in the least
+compromising her husband. Indeed, now the defense is disclosed, they
+appear to me to be wise and kindly letters, such as only a good wife, a
+high-bred lady, and a true Christian could write in so delicate a
+matter."
+
+_Plaintiff's Counsel._--My lord, we are agreed to withdraw a juror.
+
+_Defendant's Counsel._--Out of respect for your lordship's advice, and
+not from any doubt of the result on _our_ part.
+
+_The Crier._--WACE _v._ HALIBURTON!
+
+And so the car of justice rolled on till it came to Wheeler v. Bassett.
+
+This case was soon disposed of.
+
+Sir Charles Bassett was dignified and calm in the witness-box, and
+treated the whole matter with high-bred nonchalance, as one unworthy of
+the attention the Court was good enough to bestow on it. The judge
+disapproved the assault, but said the plaintiff had drawn it on himself
+by unprofessional conduct, and by threatening a gentleman in his own
+house. Verdict for the plaintiff--40s. The judge refused to certify
+for costs.
+
+Lady Bassett, her throat parched with excitement, drove home, and
+awaited her husband's return with no little anxiety. As soon as she
+heard him in his dressing-room she glided in and went down on her knees
+to him. "Pray, pray don't scold me; I couldn't bear you to be defeated,
+Charles."
+
+Sir Charles raised her, but did not kiss her.
+
+"You think only of me," said he, rather sadly. "It is a sorry victory,
+too dearly bought."
+
+Then she began to cry.
+
+Sir Charles begged her not to cry; but still he did not kiss her, nor
+conceal his mortification: he hardly spoke to her for several days.
+
+She accepted her disgrace pensively and patiently. She thought it all
+over, and felt her husband was right, and loved her like a man. But she
+thought, also, that she was not very wrong to love him in her way.
+Wrong or not, she felt she could not sit idle and see his enemy defeat
+him.
+
+The coolness died away by degrees, with so much humility on one side
+and so much love on both: but the subject was interdicted forever.
+
+A week after the trial Lady Bassett wrote to Mrs. Marsh, under cover to
+Mr. Oldfield, and told her how the trial had gone, and, with many
+expressions of gratitude, invited her and her husband to Huntercombe
+Hall. She told Sir Charles what she had done, and he wore a very
+strange look. "Might I suggest that we have them alone?" said he dryly.
+
+"By all means," said Lady Bassett. "I don't want to share my paragon
+with anybody."
+
+In due course a reply came; Mr. and Mrs. Marsh would avail themselves
+some day of Lady Bassett's kindness: at present they were going abroad.
+The letter was written by a man's hand.
+
+About this time Oldfield sent Sir Charles Miss Somerset's deed,
+canceled, and told him she had married a man of fortune, who was
+devoted to her, and preferred to take her without any dowry.
+
+
+
+Bassett and Wheeler went home, crestfallen, and dined together. They
+discussed the two trials, and each blamed the other. They quarreled and
+parted: and Wheeler sent in an enormous bill, extending over five
+years. Eighty-five items began thus: "Attending you at your house for
+several hours, on which occasion you asked my advice as to whether--"
+etc.
+
+Now as a great many of these attendances had been really to shoot game
+and dine on rabbits at Bassett's expense, he thought it hard the
+conversation should be charged and the rabbits not.
+
+Disgusted with his defeat, and resolved to evade this bill, he
+discharged his servant, and put a retired soldier into his house, armed
+him with a blunderbuss, and ordered him to keep all doors closed, and
+present the weapon aforesaid at all rate collectors, tax collectors,
+debt collectors, and applicants for money to build churches or convert
+the heathen; but not to _fire_ at anybody except his friend Wheeler,
+nor at him unless he should try to shove a writ in at some chink of the
+building.
+
+This done, he went on his travels, third-class, with his eyes always
+open, and his heart full of bitterness.
+
+Nothing happened to Richard Bassett on his travels that I need relate
+until one evening when he alighted at a small commercial inn in the
+city of York, and there met a person whose influence on the events I am
+about to relate seems at this moment incredible to me, though it is
+simple fact.
+
+He found the commercial room empty, and rang the bell. In came the
+waiter, a strapping girl, with coal-black eyes and brows to match, and
+a brown skin, but glowing cheeks.
+
+They both started at sight of each other. It was Polly Somerset.
+
+"Why, Polly! How d'ye do? How do you come here?"
+
+"It's along of you I'm here, young man," said Polly, and began to
+whimper. She told him her sister had found out from the page she had
+been colloguing with him, and had never treated her like a sister after
+that. "And when she married a gentleman she wouldn't have me aside her
+for all I could say, but she did pack me off into service, and here I
+be."
+
+The girl was handsome, and had a liking for him. Bassett was idle, and
+time hung heavy on his hands: he stayed at the inn a fortnight, more
+for Polly's company than anything: and at last offered to put her into
+a vacant cottage on his own little estate of Highmore. But the girl was
+shrewd, and had seen a great deal of life this last three years; she
+liked Richard in her way, but she saw he was all self, and she would
+not trust him. "Nay," said she, "I'll not break with Rhoda for any
+young man in Britain. If I leave service she will never own me at all:
+she is as hard as iron."
+
+"Well, but you might come and take service near me, and then we could
+often get a word together."
+
+"Oh, I'm agreeable to that: you find me a good place. I like an inn
+best; one sees fresh faces."
+
+Bassett promised to manage that for her. On reaching home he found a
+conciliatory letter from Wheeler, coupled with his permission to tax
+the bill according to his own notion of justice. This and other letters
+were in an outhouse; the old soldier had not permitted them to
+penetrate the fortress. He had entered into the spirit of his
+instructions, and to him a letter was a probable hand-grenade.
+
+Bassett sent for Wheeler; the bill was reduced, and a small payment
+made; the rest postponed till better times. Wheeler was then consulted
+about Polly, and he told his client the landlady of the "Lamb" wanted a
+good active waitress; he thought he could arrange that little affair.
+
+In due course, thanks to this artist, Mary Wells, hitherto known as
+Polly Somerset, landed with her boxes at the "Lamb "; and with her
+quick foot, her black eyes, and ready tongue soon added to the
+popularity of the inn. Richard Bassett, Esq., for one, used to sup
+there now and then with his friend Wheeler, and even sleep there after
+supper.
+
+By-and-by the vicar of Huntercombe wanted a servant, and offered to
+engage Mary Wells.
+
+She thought twice about that. She could neither write nor read, and
+therefore was dreadfully dull without company; the bustle of an inn,
+and people coming and going, amused her. However, it was a temptation
+to be near Richard Bassett; so she accepted at last. Unable to write,
+she could not consult him; and she made sure he would be delighted.
+
+But when she got into the village the prudent Mr. Bassett drew in his
+horns, and avoided her. She was mortified and very angry. She revenged
+herself on her employer; broke double her wages. The vicar had never
+been able to convert a smasher; so he parted with her very readily to
+Lady Bassett, with a hint that she was rather unfortunate in glass and
+china.
+
+In that large house her spirits rose, and, having a hearty manner and a
+clapper tongue, she became a general favorite.
+
+One day she met Mr. Bassett in the village, and he seemed delighted at
+the sight of her, and begged her to meet him that night at a certain
+place where Sir Charles's garden was divided from his own by a ha-ha.
+It was a very secluded spot, shut out from view, even in daylight, by
+the trees and shrubs and the winding nature of the walk that led to it;
+yet it was scarcely a hundred yards from Huntercombe Hall.
+
+Mary Wells came to the tryst, but in no amorous mood. She came merely
+to tell Mr. Bassett her mind, viz., that he was a shabby fellow, and
+she had had her cry, and didn't care a straw for him now. And she did
+tell him so, in a loud voice, and with a flushed cheek.
+
+But he set to work, humbly and patiently, to pacify her; he represented
+that, in a small house like the vicarage, every thing is known; he
+should have ruined her character if he had not held aloof. "But it is
+different now," said he. "You can run out of Huntercombe House, and
+meet me here, and nobody be the wiser."
+
+"Not I," said Mary Wells, with a toss. "The worse thing a girl can do
+is to keep company with a gentleman. She must meet him in holes and
+corners, and be flung off, like an old glove, when she has served his
+turn."
+
+"That will never happen to you, Polly dear. We must be prudent for the
+present; but I shall be more my own master some day, and then you will
+see how I love you."
+
+"Seeing is believing," said the girl, sullenly. "You be too fond of
+yourself to love the likes o' me."
+
+Such was the warning her natural shrewdness gave her. But perseverance
+undermined it. Bassett so often threw out hints of what he would do
+some day, mixed with warm protestations of love, that she began almost
+to hope he would marry her. She really liked him; his fine figure and
+his color pleased her eye, and he had a plausible tongue to boot.
+
+As for him, her rustic beauty and health pleased his senses; but, for
+his heart, she had little place in that. What he courted her for just
+now was to keep him informed of all that passed in Huntercombe Hall.
+His morbid soul hung about that place, and he listened greedily to Mary
+Wells's gossip. He had counted on her volubility; it did not disappoint
+him. She never met him without a budget, one-half of it lies or
+exaggerations. She was a born liar. One night she came in high spirits,
+and greeted him thus: "What d'ye think? I'm riz! Mrs. Eden, that
+dresses my lady's hair, she took ill yesterday, and I told the
+housekeeper I was used to dress hair, and she told my lady. If you
+didn't please our Rhoda at that, 'twas as much as your life was worth.
+You mustn't be thinking of your young man with her hair in your hand,
+or she'd rouse you with a good crack on the crown with a hair-brush. So
+I dressed my lady's hair, and handled it like old chaney; by the same
+token, she is so pleased with me you can't think. She is a real lady;
+not like our Rhoda. Speaks as civil to me as if I was one of her own
+sort; and, says she, 'I should like to have you about me, if I might.'
+I had it on my tongue to tell her she was mistress; but I was a little
+skeared at her at first, you know. But she will have me about her; I
+see it in her eye."
+
+Bassett was delighted at this news, but he did not speak his mind all
+at once; the time was not come. He let the gypsy rattle on, and bided
+his time. He flattered her, and said he envied Lady Bassett to have
+such a beautiful girl about her. "I'll let my hair grow," said he.
+
+"Ay, do," said she, "and then I'll pull it for you."
+
+This challenge ended in a little struggle for a kiss, the sincerity of
+which was doubtful. Polly resisted vigorously, to be sure, but briefly,
+and, having given in, returned it.
+
+One day she told him Sir Charles had met her plump, and had given a
+great start.
+
+This made Bassett very uneasy. "Confound it, he will turn you away. He
+will say, 'This girl knows too much.'"
+
+"How simple you be!" said the girl. "D'ye think I let him know? Says
+he, 'I think I have seen you before.' 'Yes, sir,' says I, 'I was
+housemaid here before my lady had me to dress her.' 'No,' says he, 'I
+mean in London--in Mayfair, you know.' I declare you might ha' knocked
+me down wi' a feather. So I looks in his face, as cool as marble, and I
+said, 'No, sir; I never had the luck to see London, sir,' says I. 'All
+the better for you,' says he; and he swallowed it like spring water, as
+sister Rhoda used to say when she told one and they believed it."
+
+"You are a clever girl," said Bassett. "He would have turned you out of
+the house if he had known who you were."
+
+She disappointed him in one thing; she was bad at answering questions.
+Morally she was not quite so great an egotist as himself, but
+intellectually a greater. Her volubility was all egotism. She could
+scarcely say ten words, except about herself. So, when Bassett
+questioned her about Sir Charles and Lady Bassett, she said "Yes," or
+"No," or "I don't know," and was off at a tangent to her own sayings
+and doings.
+
+Bassett, however, by great patience and tact, extracted from her at
+last that Sir Charles and Lady Bassett were both sore at not having
+children, and that Lady Bassett bore the blame.
+
+"That is a good joke," said he. "The smoke-dried rake! Polly, you might
+do me a good turn. You have got her ear; open her eyes for me. What
+might not happen?" His eyes shone fiendishly.
+
+The young woman shook her head. "Me meddle between man and wife! I'm
+too fond of my place."
+
+"Ah, you don't love me as I love you. You think only of yourself."
+
+"And what do you think of? Do you love me well enough to find me a
+better place, if you get me turned out of Huntercombe Hall?"
+
+"Yes, I will; a much better."
+
+"That is a bargain."
+
+Mary Wells was silly in some things, but she was very cunning, too; and
+she knew Richard Bassett's hobby. She told him to mind himself, as well
+as Sir Charles, or perhaps he would die a bachelor, and so his flesh
+and blood would never inherit Huntercombe. This remark entered his
+mind. The trial, though apparently a drawn battle, had been fatal to
+him--he was cut; he dared not pay his addresses to any lady in the
+county, and he often felt very lonely now. So everything combined to
+draw him toward Mary Wells--her swarthy beauty, which shone out at
+church like a black diamond among the other women; his own loneliness;
+and the pleasure these stolen meetings gave him. Custom itself is
+pleasant, and the company of this handsome chatterbox became a habit,
+and an agreeable one. The young woman herself employed a woman's arts;
+she was cold and loving by turns till at last he gave her what she was
+working for, a downright promise of marriage. She pretended not to
+believe him, and so led him further; he swore he would marry her.
+
+He made one stipulation, however. She really must learn to read and
+write first.
+
+When he had sworn this Mary became more uniformly affectionate; and as
+women who have been in service learn great self-government, and can
+generally please so long as it serves their turn, she made herself so
+agreeable to him that he began really to have a downright liking for
+her--a liking bounded, of course, by his incurable selfishness; but as
+for his hobby, that was on her side.
+
+Now learning to read and write was wormwood to Mary Wells; but the
+prize was so great; she knew all about the Huntercombe estates, partly
+from her sister, partly from Bassett himself. (He must tell his wrongs
+even to this girl.) So she resolved to pursue matrimony, even on the
+severe condition of becoming a scholar. She set about it as follows:
+One day that she was doing Lady Bassett's hair she sighed several
+times. This was to attract the lady's attention, and it succeeded.
+
+"Is there anything the matter, Mary?"
+
+"No, my lady."
+
+"I think there is."
+
+"Well, my lady, I am in a little trouble; but it is my own people's
+fault for not sending of me to school. I might be married to-morrow if
+I could only read and write."
+
+"And can you not?"
+
+"No, my lady."
+
+"Dear me! I thought everybody could read and write nowadays."
+
+"La, no, my lady! not half of them in our village."
+
+"Your parents are much to blame, my poor girl. Well, but it is not too
+late. Now I think of it, there is an adult school in the village. Shall
+I arrange for you to go to it?"
+
+"Thank you, my lady. But then--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"All my fellow-servants would have a laugh against me."
+
+"The person you are engaged to, will he not instruct you?"
+
+"Oh, he have no time to teach me. Besides, I don't want him to know,
+either. But I won't be his wife to shame him." (Another sigh.)
+
+"Mary," said Lady Bassett, in the innocence of her heart, "you shall
+not be mortified, and you shall not lose a good marriage. I will try
+and teach you myself."
+
+Mary was profuse in thanks. Lady Bassett received them rather coldly.
+She gave her a few minutes' instruction in her dressing-room every day;
+and Mary, who could not have done anything intellectual for half an
+hour at a stretch, gave her whole mind for those few minutes. She was
+quick, and learned very fast. In two months she could read a great deal
+more than she could understand, and could write slowly but very
+clearly.
+
+Now by this time Lady Bassett had become so interested in her pupil
+that she made her read letters and newspapers to her at those parts of
+the toilet when her services were not required.
+
+Mary Wells, though a great chatterbox, was the closest girl in England.
+Limpet never stuck to a rock as she could stick to a lie. She never
+said one word to Bassett about Lady Bassett's lessons. She kept strict
+silence till she could write a letter, and then she sent him a line to
+say she had learned to write for love of him, and she hoped he would
+keep his promise.
+
+Bassett's vanity was flattered by this. But, on reflection, he
+suspected it was a falsehood. He asked her suddenly, at their next
+meeting, who had written that note for her.
+
+"You shall see me write the fellow to it when you like," was the reply.
+
+Bassett resolved to submit the matter to that test some day. At
+present, however, he took her word for it, and asked her who had taught
+her.
+
+"I had to teach myself. Nobody cares enough for me to teach me. Well,
+I'll forgive you if you will write me a nice letter for mine."
+
+"What! when we can meet here and say everything?"
+
+"No matter; I have written to you, and you might write to me. They all
+get letters, except me; and the jades hold 'em up to me: they see I
+never get one. When you are out, post me a letter now and then. It will
+only cost you a penny. I'm sure I don't ask you for much."
+
+Bassett humored her in this, and in one of his letters called her his
+wife that was to be.
+
+This pleased her so much that the next time they met she hung round his
+neck with a good deal of feminine grace.
+
+Richard Bassett was a man who now lived in the future. Everybody in the
+county believed he had written that anonymous letter, and he had no
+hope of shining by his own light. It was bitter to resign his personal
+hopes; but he did, and sullenly resolved to be obscure himself, but the
+father of the future heirs of Huntercombe. He would marry Mary Wells,
+and lay the blame of the match upon Sir Charles, who had blackened him
+in the county, and put it out of his power to win a lady's hand.
+
+He told Wheeler he was determined to marry; but he had not the courage
+to tell him all at once what a wife he had selected.
+
+The consequence of this half confession was that Wheeler went to work
+to find him a girl with money, and not under county influence.
+
+One of Wheeler's clients was a retired citizen, living in a pretty
+villa near the market town. Mr. Wright employed him in little matters,
+and found him active and attentive. There was a Miss Wright, a meek
+little girl, palish, on whom her father doted. Wheeler talked to this
+girl of his friend Bassett, his virtues and his wrongs, and interested
+the young lady in him. This done, he brought him to the house, and the
+girl, being slight and delicate, gazed with gentle but undisguised
+admiration on Bassett's _torso._ Wheeler had told Richard Miss Wright
+was to have seven thousand pounds on her wedding-day, and that excited
+a corresponding admiration in the athletic gentleman.
+
+After that Bassett often called by himself, and the father encouraged
+the intimacy. He was old, and wished to see his daughter married before
+he left her and this seemed an eligible match, though not a brilliant
+one; a bit of land and a good name on one side, a smart bit of money on
+the other. The thing went on wheels. Richard Bassett was engaged to
+Jane Wright almost before he was aware.
+
+Now he felt uneasy about Mary Wells, very uneasy; but it was only the
+uneasiness of selfishness.
+
+He began to try and prepare; he affected business visits to distant
+places, etc., in order to break off by degrees. By this means their
+meetings were comparatively few. When they did meet (which was now
+generally by written appointment), he tried to prepare by telling her
+he had encountered losses, and feared that to marry her would be a bad
+job for her as well as for him, especially if she should have children.
+
+Mary replied she had been used to work, and would rather work for a
+husband than any other master.
+
+On another occasion she asked him quietly whether a gentleman ever
+broke his oath.
+
+"Never," said Richard.
+
+In short, she gave him no opening. She would not quarrel. She adhered
+to him as she had never adhered to anything but a lie before.
+
+Then he gave up all hope of smoothing the matter. He coolly cut her;
+never came to the trysting-place; did not answer her letters; and,
+being a reckless egotist, married Jane Wright all in a hurry, by
+special license.
+
+He sent forward to the clerk of Huntercombe church, and engaged the
+ringers to ring the church-bells from six o'clock till sundown. This
+was for Sir Charles's ears.
+
+It was a balmy evening in May. Lady Bassett was commencing her toilet
+in an indolent way, with Mary Wells in attendance, when the
+church-bells of Huntercombe struck up a merry peal.
+
+"Ah!" said Lady Bassett; "what is that for? Do you know, Mary?"
+
+"No, my lady. Shall I ask?"
+
+"No; I dare say it is a village wedding."
+
+"No, my lady, there's nobody been married here this six weeks. Our
+kitchen-maid and the baker was the last, you know. I'll send, and know
+what it is for." Mary went out and dispatched the first house-maid she
+caught for intelligence. The girl ran into the stable to her
+sweetheart, and he told her directly.
+
+Meantime Lady Bassett moralized upon church-bells.
+
+"They are always sad--saddest when they seem to be merriest. Poor
+things! they are trying hard to be merry now; but they sound very sad
+to me--sadder than usual, somehow."
+
+
+
+The girl knocked at the door. Mary half opened it, and the news shot
+in--"'Tis for Squire Bassett; he is bringing of his bride home to
+Highmore to-day."
+
+"Mr. Bassett--married--that is sudden. Who could he find to marry him?"
+There was no reply. The house-maid had flown off to circulate the news,
+and Mary Wells was supporting herself by clutching the door, sick with
+the sudden blow.
+
+Close as she was, her distress could not have escaped another woman's
+eye, but Lady Bassett never looked at her. After the first surprise she
+had gone into a reverie, and was conjuring up the future to the sound
+of those church-bells. She requested Mary to go and tell Sir Charles;
+but she did not lift her head, even to give this order.
+
+Mary crept away, and knocked at Sir Charles's dressing-room.
+
+"Come in," said Sir Charles, thinking, of course, it was his valet.
+
+Mary Wells just opened the door and held it ajar. "My lady bids me tell
+you, sir, the bells are ringing for Mr. Bassett; he's married, and
+brings her home tonight."
+
+A dead silence marked the effect of this announcement on Sir Charles.
+Mary Wells waited.
+
+
+
+"May Heaven's curse light on that marriage, and no child of theirs ever
+take my place in this house!"
+
+"A-a-men!" said Mary Wells.
+
+"Thank you, sir!" said Sir Charles. He took her voice for a man's, so
+deep and guttural was her "A--a--men" with concentrated passion.
+
+She closed the door and crept back to her mistress.
+
+Lady Bassett was seated at her glass, with her hair down and her
+shoulders bare. Mary clinched her teeth, and set about her usual work;
+but very soon Lady Bassett gave a start, and stared into the glass.
+"Mary!" said she, "what _is_ the matter? You look ghastly, and your
+hands are as cold as ice. Are you faint?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then you are ill; very ill."
+
+"I have taken a chill," said Mary, doggedly.
+
+"Go instantly to the still-room maid, and get a large glass of spirits
+and hot water--quite hot."
+
+Mary, who wanted to be out of the room, fastened her mistress's back
+hair with dogged patience, and then moved toward the door.
+
+"Mary," said Lady Bassett, in a half-apologetic tone.
+
+"My lady."
+
+"I should like to hear what the bride is like."
+
+"I'll know that to-night," said Mary, grinding her teeth.
+
+"I shall not require you again till bedtime."
+
+Mary left the room, and went, not to the still-room, but to her own
+garret, and there she gave way. She flung herself, with a wild cry,
+upon her little bed, and clutched her own hair and the bedclothes, and
+writhed all about the bed like a wild-cat wounded.
+
+In this anguish she passed an hour she never forgot nor forgave. She
+got up at last, and started at her own image in the glass. Hair like a
+savage's, cheek pale, eyes blood-shot.
+
+She smoothed her hair, washed her face, and prepared to go downstairs;
+but now she was seized with a faintness, and had to sit down and moan.
+She got the better of that, and went to the still-room, and got some
+spirits; but she drank them neat, gulped them down like water. They
+sent the devil into her black eye, but no color into her pale cheek.
+She had a little scarlet shawl; she put it over her head, and went into
+the village. She found it astir with expectation.
+
+Mr. Bassett's house stood near the highway, but the entrance to the
+premises was private, and through a long white gate.
+
+By this gate was a heap of stones, and Mary Wells got on that heap and
+waited.
+
+When she had been there about half an hour, Richard Bassett drove up in
+a hired carriage, with his pale little wife beside him. At his own gate
+his eye encountered Mary Wells, and he started. She stood above him,
+with her arms folded grandly; her cheek, so swarthy and ruddy, was now
+pale, and her black eyes glittered like basilisks at him and his bride.
+The whole woman seemed lifted out of her low condition, and dignified
+by wrong.
+
+He had to sustain her look for a few seconds, while the gate was being
+opened, and it seemed an age. He felt his first pang of remorse when he
+saw that swarthy, ruddy cheek so pale. Then came admiration of her
+beauty, and disgust at the woman for whom he had jilted her; and that
+gave way to fear: the hater looked into those glittering eyes, and saw
+he had roused a hate as unrelenting as his own.
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+FOR the first few days Richard Bassett expected some annoyance from
+Mary Wells; but none came, and he began to flatter himself she was too
+fond of him to give him pain.
+
+This impression was shaken about ten days after the little scene I have
+described. He received a short note from her, as follows:
+
+
+
+"SIR--You must meet me to-night, at the same place, eight o'clock. If
+you do not come it will be the worse for you.
+
+"M. W."
+
+
+
+Richard Bassett's inclination was to treat this summons with contempt;
+but he thought it would be wiser to go and see whether the girl had any
+hostile intentions. Accordingly he went to the tryst. He waited for
+some time, and at last he heard a quick, firm foot, and Mary Wells
+appeared. She was hooded with her scarlet shawl, that contrasted
+admirably with her coal-black hair; and out of this scarlet frame her
+dark eyes glittered. She stood before him in silence.
+
+He said nothing.
+
+She was silent too for some time. But she spoke first.
+
+"Well, sir, you promised one, and you have married another. Now what
+are you going to do for me?"
+
+"What _can_ I do, Mary? I'm not the first that wanted to marry for
+love, but money came in his way and tempted him."
+
+"No, you are not the first. But that's neither here nor there, sir.
+That chalk-faced girl has bought you away from me with her money, and
+now I mean to have my share on't."
+
+"Oh, if that is all," said Richard, "we can soon settle it. I was
+afraid you were going to talk about a broken heart, and all that stuff.
+You are a good, sensible girl; and too beautiful to want a husband
+long. I'll give you fifty pounds to forgive me."
+
+"Fifty pounds!" said Mary Wells, contemptuously. "What! when you
+promised me I should be your wife to-day, and lady of Huntercombe Hall
+by-and-by? Fifty pounds! No; not five fifties."
+
+"Well, I'll give you seventy-five; and if that won't do, you must go to
+law, and see what you can get."
+
+"What, han't you had your bellyful of law? Mind, it is an unked thing
+to forswear yourself, and that is what you done at the 'sizes. I have
+seen what you did swear about your letter to my sister; Sir Charles
+have got it all wrote down in his study: and you swore a lie to the
+judge, as you swore a lie to me here under heaven, you villain!" She
+raised her voice very loud. "Don't you gainsay me, or I'll soon have
+you by the heels in jail for your lies. You'll do as I bid you, and
+very lucky to be let off so cheap. You was to be my master, but you
+chose her instead: well, then, you shall be my servant. You shall come
+here every Saturday at eight o'clock, and bring me a sovereign, which I
+never could keep a lump o' money, and I have had one or two from Rhoda;
+so I'll take it a sovereign a week till I get a husband of my own sort,
+and then you'll have to come down handsome once for all."
+
+Bassett knitted his brows and thought hard. His natural impulse was to
+defy her; but it struck him that a great many things might happen in a
+few months; so at last he said, humbly, "I consent. I have been to
+blame. Only I'd rather pay you this money in some other way."
+
+"My way, or none."
+
+"Very well, then, I will bring it you as you say."
+
+"Mind you do, then," said Mary Wells, and turned haughtily on her heel.
+
+Bassett never ventured to absent himself at the hour, and, at first,
+the blackmail was delivered and received with scarcely a word; but
+by-and-by old habits so far revived that some little conversation took
+place.
+
+Then, after a while, Bassett used to tell her he was unhappy, and she
+used to reply she was glad of it.
+
+Then he began to speak slightingly of his wife, and say what a fool he
+had been to marry a poor, silly nonentity, when be might have wedded a
+beauty.
+
+Mary Wells, being intensely vain, listened with complacency to this,
+although she replied coldly and harshly.
+
+By-and-by her natural volubility overpowered her, and she talked to
+Bassett about herself and Huntercombe House, but always with a secret
+reserve.
+
+Later--such is the force of habit--each used to look forward with
+satisfaction to the Saturday meeting, although each distrusted and
+feared the other at bottom.
+
+Later still that came to pass which Mary Wells had planned from the
+first with deep malice, and that shrewd insight into human nature which
+many a low woman has--the cooler she was the warmer did Richard Bassett
+grow, till at last, contrasting his pale, meek little wife with this
+glowing Hebe, he conceived an unholy liking for the latter. She met it
+sometimes with coldness and reproaches, sometimes with affected alarm,
+sometimes with a half-yielding manner, and so tormented him to her
+heart's content, and undermined his affection for his wife. Thus she
+revenged herself on them both to her heart's content.
+
+But malice so perverse is apt to recoil on itself; and women, in
+particular, should not undertake a long and subtle revenge of this
+sort; since the strongest have their hours of weakness, and are
+surprised into things they never intended. The subsequent history of
+Mary Wells will exemplify this. Meantime, however, meek little Mrs.
+Bassett was no match for the beauty and low cunning of her rival.
+
+Yet a time came when she defended herself unconsciously. She did
+something that made her husband most solicitous for her welfare and
+happiness. He began to watch her health with maternal care, to shield
+her from draughts, to take care of her diet, to indulge her in all her
+whims instead of snubbing her, and to pet her, till she was the
+happiest wife in England for a time. She deserved this at his hands,
+for she assisted him there where his heart was fixed; she aided his
+hobby; did more for it than any other creature in England could.
+
+
+
+To return to Huntercombe Hall: the loving couple that owned it were no
+longer happy. The hope of offspring was now deserting them, and the
+disappointment was cruel. They suffered deeply, with this
+difference--that Lady Bassett pined and Sir Charles Bassett fretted.
+
+The woman's grief was more pure and profound than the man's. If there
+had been no Richard Bassett in the world, still her bosom would have
+yearned and pined, and the great cry of Nature, "Give me children or I
+die," would have been in her heart, though it would never have risen to
+her lips.
+
+Sir Charles had, of course, less of this profound instinct than his
+wife, but he had it too; only in him the feeling was adulterated and at
+the same time imbittered by one less simple and noble. An enemy sat at
+his gate. That enemy, whose enduring malice had at last begotten equal
+hostility in the childless baronet, was now married, and would probably
+have heirs; and, if so, that hateful brood--the spawn of an anonymous
+letter-writer--would surely inherit Bassett and Huntercombe, succeeding
+to Sir Charles Bassett, deceased without issue. This chafed the
+childless man, and gradually undermined a temper habitually sweet,
+though subject, as we have seen, to violent ebullitions where the
+provocation was intolerable. Sir Charles, then, smarting under his
+wound, spoke now and then rather unkindly to the wife he loved so
+devotedly; that is to say, his manner sometimes implied that he blamed
+her for their joint calamity.
+
+Lady Bassett submitted to these stings in silence. They were rare, and
+speedily followed by touching regrets; and even had it not been so she
+would have borne them with resignation; for this motherless wife loved
+her husband with all a wife's devotion and a mother's unselfish
+patience. Let this be remembered to her credit. It is the truth, and
+she may need it.
+
+Her own yearning was too deep and sad for fretfulness; yet though,
+unlike her husband's, it never broke out in anger, the day was gone by
+when she could keep it always silent. It welled out of her at times in
+ways that were truly womanly and touching.
+
+When she called on a wife the lady was sure to parade her children. The
+boasted tact of women--a quality the narrow compass of which has
+escaped their undiscriminating eulogists--was sure to be swept away by
+maternal egotism; and then poor Lady Bassett would admire the children
+loudly, and kiss them, to please the cruel egotist, and hide the tears
+that rose to her own eyes; but she would shorten her visit.
+
+When a child died in the village Mary Wells was sure to be sent with
+words of comfort and substantial marks of sympathy.
+
+Scarcely a day passed that something or other did not happen to make
+the wound bleed; but I will confine myself to two occasions, on each of
+which her heart's agony spoke out, and so revealed how much it must
+have endured in silence.
+
+Since the day when Sir Charles allowed her to sit in a little room
+close to his study while he received Mr. Wheeler's visit she had fitted
+up that room, and often sat there to be near Sir Charles; and he would
+sometimes call her in and tell her his justice cases. One day she was
+there when the constable brought in a prisoner and several witnesses.
+The accused was a stout, florid girl, with plump cheeks and pale gray
+eyes. She seemed all health, stupidity, and simplicity. She carried a
+child on her left arm. No dweller in cities could suspect this face of
+crime. As well indict a calf.
+
+Yet the witnesses proved beyond a doubt that she had been seen with her
+baby in the neighborhood of a certain old well on a certain day at
+noon; that soon after noon she had been seen on the road without her
+baby, and being asked what had become of it, had said she had left it
+with her aunt, ten miles off; and that about an hour after that a faint
+cry had been heard at the bottom of the old well--it was ninety feet
+deep; people had assembled, and a brave farmer's boy had been lowered
+in the bight of a cart-rope, and had brought up a dead hen, and a live
+child, bleeding at the cheek, having fallen on a heap of fagots at the
+bottom of the well; which child was the prisoner's.
+
+Sir Charles had the evidence written down, and then told the accused
+she might make a counter-statement if she chose, but it would be wiser
+to say nothing at all.
+
+Thereupon the accused dropped him a little short courtesy, looked him
+steadily in the face with her pale gray eyes, and delivered herself as
+follows:
+
+"If you please, sir, I was a-sitting by th' old well, with baby in my
+arms; and I was mortal tired, I was, wi' carring of him; he be uncommon
+heavy for his age; and, if you please, sir, he is uncommon resolute;
+and while I was so he give a leap right out of my arms and fell down
+th' old well. I screams, and runs away to tell my brother's wife, as
+lives at top of the hill; but she was gone into North Wood for dry
+sticks to light her oven; and when I comes back they had got him out of
+the well, and I claims him directly; and the constable said we must
+come before you, sir; so here we be."
+
+This she delivered very glibly, without tremulousness, hesitation, or
+the shadow of a blush, and dropped another little courtesy at the end
+to Sir Charles.
+
+Thereupon he said not one word to her, but committed her for trial, and
+gave the farmer's boy a sovereign.
+
+The people were no sooner gone than Lady Bassett came in, with the
+tears streaming, and threw herself at her husband's knees. "Oh,
+Charles! can such things be? Does God give a child to a woman that has
+the heart to kill it, and refuse one to me, who would give my heart's
+blood to save a hair of its little head? Oh, what have we done that he
+singles us out to be so cruel to us?"
+
+Then Sir Charles tried to comfort her, but could not, and the childless
+ones wept together.
+
+
+
+It began to be whispered that Mrs. Bassett was in the family way.
+Neither Sir Charles nor Lady Bassett mentioned this rumor. It would
+have been like rubbing vitriol into their own wounds. But this reserve
+was broken through one day. It was a sunny afternoon in June, just
+thirteen months after Mr. Bassett's wedding--Lady Bassett was with her
+husband in his study, settling invitations for a ball, and writing
+them--when the church-bells struck up a merry peal. They both left off,
+and looked at each other eloquently. Lady Bassett went out, but soon
+returned, looking pale and wild.
+
+_"Yes!"_ said she, with forced calmness. Then, suddenly losing her
+self-command, she broke out, pointing through the window at Highmore,
+_"He_ has got a fine boy--to take our place here. Kill me, Charles!
+Send me to heaven to pray for you, and take another wife that will love
+you less but be like other wives. That villain has married a fruitful
+vine, and" (lifting both arms to heaven, with a gesture unspeakably
+piteous, poetic, and touching) "I am a barren stock."
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+OF all the fools Nature produces with the help of Society, fathers of
+first-borns are about the most offensive.
+
+The mothers of ditto are bores too, flinging their human dumplings at
+every head; but, considering the tortures they have suffered, and the
+anguish the little egotistical viper they have just hatched will most
+likely give them, and considering further that their love of their
+firstborn is greater than their pride, and their pride unstained by
+vanity, one must make allowances for them.
+
+But the male parent is not so excusable. His fussy vanity is an
+inferior article to the mother's silly but amiable pride. His obtrusive
+affection is two-thirds of it egotism, and blindish egotism, too; for
+if, at the very commencement of the wife's pregnancy the husband is
+sent to India, or hanged, the little angel, as they call it--Lord
+forgive them!--is nurtured from a speck to a mature infant by the other
+parent, and finally brought into the world by her just as effectually
+as if her male confederate had been tied to her apron-string: all the
+time, instead of expatriated or hanged.
+
+Therefore the Law--for want, I suppose, of studying Medicine--is a
+little inconsiderate in giving children to fathers, and taking them by
+force from such mothers _as can support them;_ and therefore let
+Gallina go on clucking over her first-born, but Gallus be quiet, or
+sing a little smaller.
+
+With these preliminary remarks, let me introduce to you a character new
+in fiction, but terribly old in history--
+
+         THE CLUCKING COCK.
+
+Upon the birth of a son and heir Mr. Richard Bassett was inflated
+almost to bursting. He became suddenly hospitable, collected all his
+few friends about him, and showed them all the Boy at great length, and
+talked Boy and little else. He went out into the world and made calls
+on people merely to remind them he had a son and heir.
+
+His self-gratulation took a dozen forms; perhaps the most amusing, and
+the richest food for satire, was the mock-querulous style, of which he
+showed himself a master.
+
+"Don't you ever marry," said he to Wheeler and others. "Look at me; do
+you think I am the master of my own house? Not I; I am a regular slave.
+First, there is a monthly nurse, who orders me out of my wife's
+presence, or graciously lets me in, just as she pleases; that is Queen
+1. Then there's a wet-nurse, Queen 2, whom I must humor in everything,
+or she will quarrel with me, and avenge herself by souring her milk.
+But these are mild tyrants compared with the young King himself. If he
+does but squall we must all skip, and find out what he ails, or what he
+wants. As for me, I am looked upon as a necessary evil; the women seem
+to admit that a father is an incumbrance without which these little
+angels could not exist, but that is all."
+
+He had a christening feast, and it was pretty well attended, for he
+reminded all he asked that the young Christian was the heir to the
+Bassett estates. They feasted, and the church-bells rang merrily.
+
+He had his pew in the church new lined with cloth, and took his wife to
+be churched. The nurse was in the pew too, with his son and heir. It
+squalled and spoiled the Liturgy. Thereat Gallus chuckled.
+
+He made a gravel-walk all along the ha-ha that separated his garden
+from Sir Charles's, and called it "The Heir's Walk." Here the nurse and
+child used to parade on sunny afternoons.
+
+He got an army of workmen, and built a nursery fit for a duke's nine
+children. It occupied two entire stories, and rose in the form of a
+square tower high above the rest of his house, which, indeed, was as
+humble as "The Heir's Tower" was pretentious. "The Heir's Tower" had a
+flat lead roof easy of access, and from it you could inspect
+Huntercombe Hall, and see what was done on the lawn or at some of the
+windows.
+
+Here, in the August afternoons, Mr. and Mrs. Bassett used to sit
+drinking their tea, with nurse and child; and Bassett would talk to his
+unconscious boy, and tell him that the great house and all that
+belonged to it should be his in spite of the arts that had been used to
+rob him of it.
+
+Now, of course, the greater part of all this gratulation was merely
+amusing, and did no harm except stirring up the bile of a few old
+bachelors, and imbittering them worse than ever against clucking cocks,
+crowing hens, inflated parents, and matrimony in general.
+
+But the overflow of it reached Huntercombe Hall, and gave cruel pain to
+the childless ones, over whom this inflated father was, in fact,
+exulting.
+
+As for the christening, and the bells that pealed for it, and the
+subsequent churching, they bore these things with sore hearts, and
+bravely, being things of course. But when it came to their ears that
+Bassett and his family called his new gravel-walk "The Heir's Walk,"
+and his ridiculous nursery "The Heir's Tower," this roused a bitter
+animosity, and, indeed, led to reprisals. Sir Charles built a long wall
+at the edge of his garden, shutting out "The Heir's Walk" and
+intercepting the view of his own premises from that walk.
+
+Then Mr. Bassett made a little hill at the end of his walk, so that the
+heir might get one peep over the wall at his rich inheritance.
+
+Then Sir Charles began to fell timber on a gigantic scale. He went to
+work with several gangs of woodmen, and all his woods, which were very
+extensive, rang with the ax, and the trees fell like corn. He made no
+secret that he was going to sell timber to the tune of several thousand
+pounds and settle it on his wife.
+
+Then Richard Bassett, through Wheeler, his attorney, remonstrated in
+his own name, and that of his son, against this excessive fall of
+timber on an entailed estate.
+
+Sir Charles chafed like a lion stung by a gad-fly, but vouchsafed no
+reply: the answer came from Mr. Oldfield; he said Sir Charles had a
+right under the entail to fell every stick of timber, and turn his
+woods into arable ground, if he chose; and even if he had not, looking
+at his age and his wife's, it was extremely improbable that Richard
+Bassett would inherit the estates: the said Richard Bassett was not
+personally named in the entail, and his rights were all in supposition:
+if Mr. Wheeler thought he could dispute both these positions, the Court
+of Chancery was open to his client.
+
+Then Wheeler advised Bassett to avoid the Court of Chancery in a matter
+so debatable; and Sir Charles felled all the more for the protest. The
+dead bodies of the trees fell across each other, and daylight peeped
+through the thick woods. It was like the clearing of a primeval forest.
+
+Richard Bassett went about with a witness and counted the fallen.
+
+The poor were allowed the lopwood: they thronged in for miles round,
+and each built himself a great wood pile for the winter; the poor
+blessed Sir Charles: he gave the proceeds, thirteen thousand pounds, to
+his wife for her separate use. He did not tie it up. He restricted her
+no further than this: she undertook never to draw above 100 pounds at a
+time without consulting Mr. Oldfield as to the application. Sir Charles
+said he should add to this fund every year; his beloved wife should not
+be poor, even if the hated cousin should outlive him and turn her out
+of Huntercombe.
+
+And so passed the summer of that year; then the autumn; and then came a
+singularly mild winter. There was more hunting than usual, and Richard
+Bassett, whom his wife's fortune enabled to cut a better figure than
+before, was often in the field, mounted on a great bony horse that was
+not so fast as some, being half-bred, but a wonderful jumper.
+
+Even in this pastime the cousins were rivals. Sir Charles's favorite
+horse was a magnificent thoroughbred, who was seldom far off at the
+finish: over good ground Richard's cocktail had no chance with him; but
+sometimes, if toward the close of the run they came to stiff fallows
+and strong fences, the great strength of the inferior animal, and that
+prudent reserve of his powers which distinguishes the canny cocktail
+from the higher-blooded animal, would give him the advantage.
+
+Of this there occurred, on a certain 18th of November, an example
+fraught with very serious consequences.
+
+That day the hounds met on Sir Charles's estate. Sir Charles and Lady
+Bassett breakfasted in Pink; he had on his scarlet coat, white tie,
+irreproachable buckskins, and top-boots. (It seemed a pity a speck of
+dirt should fall on them.) Lady Bassett was in her riding-habit; and
+when she mounted her pony, and went to cover by his side, with her
+blue-velvet cap and her red-brown hair, she looked more like a
+brilliant flower than a mere woman.
+
+A veteran fox was soon found, and went away with unusual courage and
+speed, and Lady Bassett paced homeward to wait her lord's return, with
+an anxiety men laugh at, but women can appreciate. It was a form of
+quiet suffering she had constantly endured, and never complained, nor
+even mentioned the subject to Sir Charles but once, and then he
+pooh-poohed her fancies.
+
+The hunt had a burst of about forty minutes that left Richard Bassett's
+cocktail in the rear; and the fox got into a large beech wood with
+plenty of briars, and kept dodging about it for two hours, and puzzled
+the scent repeatedly.
+
+Richard Bassett elected not to go winding in and out among trees, risk
+his horse's legs in rabbit-holes, and tire him for nothing. He had kept
+for years a little note book he called "Statistics of Foxes," and that
+told him an old dog-fox of uncommon strength, if dislodged from that
+particular wood, would slip into Bellman's Coppice, and if driven out
+of that would face the music again, would take the open country for
+Higham Gorse, and probably be killed before he got there; but once
+there a regiment of scythes might cut him out, but bleeding, sneezing
+fox-hounds would never work him out at the tail of a long run.
+
+So Richard Bassett kept out of the wood, and went gently on to
+Bellman's Coppice and waited outside.
+
+His book proved an oracle. After two hours' dodging and maneuvering the
+fox came out at the very end of Bellman's Coppice, with nothing near
+him but Richard Bassett. Pug gave him the white of his eye in an ugly
+leer, and headed straight as a crow for Higham Gorse.
+
+Richard Bassett blew his horn, collected the hunt, and laid the dogs
+on. Away they went, close together, thunder-mouthed on the hot scent.
+
+After a three miles' gallop they sighted the fox for a moment just
+going over the crest of a rising ground two furlongs off. Then the
+hullabbaloo and excitement grew furious, and one electric fury animated
+dogs, men, and horses. Another mile, and the fox ran in sight scarcely
+a furlong off; but many of the horses were distressed: the Bassetts,
+however, kept up, one by his horse being fresh, the other by his
+animal's native courage and speed.
+
+Then came some meadows, bounded by a thick hedge, and succeeded by a
+plowed field of unusual size--eighty acres.
+
+When the fox darted into this hedge the hounds were yelling at his
+heels; the hunt burst through the thin fence, expecting to see them
+kill close to it.
+
+But the wily fox had other resources at his command than speed.
+Appreciating his peril, he doubled and ran sixty yards down the ditch,
+and the impetuous hounds rushed forward and overran the scent. They
+raved about to and fro, till at last one of the gentlemen descried the
+fox running down a double furrow in the middle of the field. He had got
+into this, and so made his way more smoothly than his four-footed
+pursuers could. The dogs were laid on, and away they went
+helter-skelter.
+
+At the end of this stiff ground a stiffish leap awaited them; an old
+quickset had been cut down, and all the elm-trees that grew in it, and
+a new quickset hedge set on a high bank with double ditches.
+
+The huntsman had an Irish horse that laughed at this fence; he jumped
+on to the bank, and then jumped off it into the next field.
+
+Richard Bassett's cocktail came up slowly, rose high, and landed his
+forefeet in the field, and so scrambled on.
+
+Sir Charles went at it rather rashly; his horse, tried hard by the
+fallow, caught his heels against the edge of the bank, and went
+headlong into the other ditch, throwing Sir Charles over his head into
+the field. Unluckily some of the trees were lying about, and Sir
+Charles's head struck one of these in falling; the horse blundered out
+again, and galloped after the hounds, but the rider lay there
+motionless.
+
+Nobody stopped at first; the pace was too good to inquire; but
+presently Richard Bassett, who had greeted the accident with a laugh,
+turned round in his saddle, and saw his cousin motionless, and two or
+three gentlemen dismounting at the place. These were newcomers. Then he
+resigned the hunt, and rode back.
+
+Sir Charles's cap was crushed in, and there was blood on his white
+waistcoat; he was very pale, and quite insensible.
+
+The gentlemen raised him, with expressions of alarm and kindly concern,
+and inquired of each other what was best to be done.
+
+Richard Bassett saw an opportunity to conciliate opinion, and seized
+it. "He must be taken home directly," said he. "We must carry him to
+that farmhouse, and get a cart for him."
+
+He helped carry him accordingly. The farmer lent them a cart, with
+straw, and they laid the insensible baronet gently on it, Richard
+Bassett supporting his head. "Gentlemen," said he, rather pompously,
+"at such a moment everything but the tie of kindred is forgotten."
+Which resounding sentiment was warmly applauded by the honest squires.
+
+They took him slowly and carefully toward Huntercombe, distant about
+two miles from the scene of the accident.
+
+
+
+This 18th November Lady Bassett passed much as usual with her on
+hunting days. She was quietly patient till the afternoon, and then
+restless, and could not settle down in any part of the house till she
+got to a little room on the first floor, with a bay-window commanding
+the country over which Sir Charles was hunting. In this she sat, with
+her head against one of the mullions, and eyed the country-side as far
+as she could see.
+
+Presently she heard a rustle, and there was Mary Wells standing and
+looking at her with evident emotion.
+
+"What is the matter, Mary?" said Lady Bassett.
+
+"Oh, my lady!" said Mary. And she trembled, and her hands worked.
+
+Lady Bassett started up with alarm painted in her countenance.
+
+"My lady, there's something wrong in the hunting field."
+
+"Sir Charles!"
+
+"An accident, they say."
+
+Lady Bassett put her hand to her heart with a faint cry. Mary Wells ran
+to her.
+
+"Come with me directly!" cried Lady Bassett. She snatched up her
+bonnet, and in another minute she and Mary Wells were on their road to
+the village, questioning every body they met.
+
+But nobody they questioned could tell them anything. The stable-boy,
+who had told the report in the kitchen of Huntercombe, said he had it
+from a gentleman's groom, riding by as he stood at the gates.
+
+The ill news thus flung in at the gate by one passing rapidly by was
+not confirmed by any further report, and Lady Bassett began to hope it
+was false.
+
+But a terrible confirmation came at last.
+
+In the outskirts of the village mistress and servant encountered a
+sorrowful procession: the cart itself, followed by five gentlemen on
+horseback, pacing slowly, and downcast as at a funeral.
+
+In the cart Sir Charles Bassett, splashed all over with mud, and his
+white waistcoat bloody, lay with his head upon Richard Bassett's knee.
+His hair was wet with blood, some of which had trickled down his cheek
+and dried. Even Richard's buckskins were slightly stained with it.
+
+At that sight Lady Bassett uttered a scream, which those who heard it
+never forgot, and flung herself, Heaven knows how, into the cart; but
+she got there, and soon had that bleeding head on her bosom. She took
+no notice of Richard Bassett, but she got Sir Charles away from him,
+and the cart took her, embracing him tenderly, and kissing his hurt
+head, and moaning over him, all through the village to Huntercombe
+Hall.
+
+Four years ago they passed through the same village in a
+carriage-and-four--bells pealing, rustics shouting--to take possession
+of Huntercombe, and fill it with pledges of their great and happy love;
+and as they flashed past the heir at law shrank hopeless into his
+little cottage. Now, how changed the pageant!--a farmer's cart, a
+splashed and bleeding and senseless form in it, supported by a
+childless, despairing woman, one weeping attendant walking at the side,
+and, among the gentlemen pacing slowly behind, the heir at law, with
+his head lowered in that decent affectation of regret which all heirs
+can put on to hide the indecent complacency within.
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+AT the steps of Huntercombe Hall the servants streamed out, and
+relieved the strangers of the sorrowful load. Sir Charles was carried
+into the Hall, and Richard Bassett turned away, with one triumphant
+flash of his eye, quickly suppressed, and walked with impenetrable
+countenance and studied demeanor into Highmore House.
+
+Even here he did not throw off the mask. It peeled off by degrees. He
+began by telling his wife, gravely enough, Sir Charles had met with a
+severe fall, and he had attended to him and taken him home.
+
+"Ah, I am glad you did that, Richard," said Mrs. Bassett. "And is he
+very badly hurt?"
+
+"I am afraid he will hardly get over it. He never spoke. He just
+groaned when they took him down from the cart at Huntercombe."
+
+"Poor Lady Bassett!"
+
+"Ay, it will be a bad job for her. Jane!"
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"There is a providence in it. The fall would never have killed him; but
+his head struck a tree upon the ground; and that tree was one of the
+very elms he had just cut down to rob our boy."
+
+"Indeed?"
+
+"Yes; he was felling the very hedgerow timber, and this was one of the
+old elms in a hedge. He must have done it out of spite, for elm-wood
+fetches no price; it is good for nothing I know of, except coffins.
+Well, he has cut down _his."_
+
+"Poor man! Richard, death reconciles enemies. Surely you can forgive
+him now."
+
+"I mean to try."
+
+Richard Bassett seemed now to have imbibed the spirit of quicksilver.
+His occupations were not actually enlarged, yet, somehow or other, he
+seemed full of business. He was all complacent bustle about nothing. He
+left off inveighing against Sir Charles. And, indeed, if you are one of
+those weak spirits to whom censure is intolerable, there is a cheap and
+easy way to moderate the rancor of detraction--you have only to die.
+Let me comfort genius in particular with this little recipe.
+
+Why, on one occasion, Bassett actually snubbed Wheeler for a mere
+allusion. That worthy just happened to remark, "No more felling of
+timber on Bassett Manor for a while."
+
+"For shame!" said Richard. "The man had his faults, but he had his good
+qualities too: a high-spirited gentleman, beloved by his friends and
+respected by all the county. His successor will find it hard to
+reconcile the county to his loss."
+
+Wheeler stared, and then grinned satirically.
+
+This eulogy was never repeated, for Sir Charles proved ungrateful--he
+omitted to die, after all.
+
+Attended by first-rate physicians, tenderly nursed and watched by Lady
+Bassett and Mary Wells, he got better by degrees; and every stage of
+his slow but hopeful progress was communicated to the servants and the
+village, and to the ladies and gentlemen who rode up to the door every
+day and left their cards of inquiry.
+
+The most attentive of all these was the new rector, a young clergyman,
+who had obtained the living by exchange. He was a man highly gifted
+both in body and mind--a swarthy Adonis, whose large dark eyes from the
+very first turned with glowing admiration on the blonde beauties of
+Lady Bassett.
+
+He came every day to inquire after her husband; and she sometimes left
+the sufferer a minute or two to make her report to him in person. At
+other times Mary Wells was sent to him. That artful girl soon
+discovered what had escaped her mistress's observation.
+
+The bulletins were favorable, and welcomed on all sides.
+
+Richard Bassett alone was incredulous. "I want to see him about again,"
+said he. "Sir Charles is not the man to lie in bed if he was really
+better. As for the doctors, they flatter a fellow till the last moment.
+Let me see him on his legs, and then I'll believe he is better."
+
+Strange to say, obliging Fate granted Richard Bassett this moderate
+request. One frosty but sunny afternoon, as he was inspecting his
+coming domain from "The Heir's Tower," he saw the Hall door open, and a
+muffled figure come slowly down the steps between two women: It was Sir
+Charles, feeble but convalescent. He crept about on the sunny gravel
+for about ten minutes, and then his nurses conveyed him tenderly in
+again.
+
+This sight, which might have touched with pity a more generous nature,
+startled Richard Bassett, and then moved his bile. "I was a fool," said
+he; "nothing will ever kill that man. He will see me out; see us all
+out. And that Mary Wells nurses him, and I dare say in love with him by
+this time; the fools can't nurse a man without. Curse the whole pack of
+ye!" he yelled, and turned away in rage and disgust.
+
+That same night he met Mary Wells, and, in a strange fit of jealousy,
+began to make hot protestations of love to her. He knew it was no use
+reproaching her, so he went on the other tack.
+
+She received his vows with cool complacency, but would only stay a
+minute, and would only talk of her master and mistress, toward whom her
+heart was really warming in their trouble. She spoke hopefully, and
+said: "'Tisn't as if he was one of your faint-hearted ones as meet
+death half-way. Why, the second day, when he could scarce speak, he
+sees me crying by the bed, and says he, almost in a whisper, 'What are
+_you_ crying for?' 'Sir,' says I, ''tis for you--to see you lie like a
+ghost.' 'Then you be wasting of salt-water,' says he. 'I wish I may,
+sir,' says I. So then he raised himself up a little bit. 'Look at me,'
+says he; 'I'm a Bassett. I am not the breed to die for a crack on the
+skull, and leave you all to the mercy of them that would have no
+mercy'--which he meant you, I suppose. So he ordered me to leave
+crying, which I behooved to obey; for he will be master, mind ye, while
+he have a finger to wag, poor dear gentleman, he will."
+
+And, soon after this, she resisted all his attempts to detain her, and
+scudded back to the house, leaving Bassett to his reflections, which
+were exceedingly bitter.
+
+Sir Charles got better, and at last used to walk daily with Lady
+Bassett. Their favorite stroll was up and down the lawn, close under
+the boundary wall he had built to shut out "The Heir's Walk."
+
+The afternoon sun struck warm upon that wall and the walk by its side.
+
+On the other side a nurse often carried little Dicky Bassett, the heir;
+but neither of the promenaders could see each other for the wall.
+
+Richard Bassett, on the contrary, from "The Heir's Tower," could see
+both these little parties; and, as some men cannot keep away from what
+causes their pain, he used to watch these loving walks, and see Sir
+Charles get stronger and stronger, till at last, instead of leaning on
+his beloved wife, he could march by her side, or even give her his arm.
+
+Yet the picture was, in a great degree, delusive; for, except during
+these blissful walks, when the sun shone on him, and Love and Beauty
+soothed him, Sir Charles was not the man he had been. The shake he had
+received appeared to have damaged his temper strangely. He became so
+irritable that several of his servants left him; and to his wife he
+repined; and his childless condition, which had been hitherto only a
+deep disappointment, became in his eyes a calamity that outweighed his
+many blessings. He had now narrowly escaped dying without an heir, and
+this seemed to sink into his mind, and, co-operating with the
+concussion his brain had received, brought him into a morbid state. He
+brooded on it, and spoke of it, and got back to it from every other
+topic, in a way that distressed Lady Bassett unspeakably. She consoled
+him bravely; but often, when she was alone, her gentle courage gave
+way, and she cried bitterly to herself.
+
+Her distress had one effect she little expected; it completed what her
+invariable kindness had begun, and actually won the heart of a servant.
+Those who really know that tribe will agree with me that this was a
+marvelous conquest. Yet so it was; Mary Wells conceived for her a real
+affection, and showed it by unremitting attention, and a soft and
+tender voice, that soothed Lady Bassett, and drew many a silent but
+grateful glance from her dove-like eyes.
+
+Mary listened, and heard enough to blame Sir Charles for his
+peevishness, and she began to throw out little expressions of
+dissatisfaction at him; but these were so promptly discouraged by the
+faithful wife that she drew in again and avoided that line. But one
+day, coming softly as a cat, she heard Sir Charles and Lady Bassett
+talking over their calamity. Sir Charles was saying that it was
+Heaven's curse; that all the poor people in the village had children;
+that Richard Bassett's weak, puny little wife had brought him an heir,
+and was about to make him a parent again; he alone was marked out and
+doomed to be the last of his race. "And yet," said he, "if I had
+married any other woman, and you had married any other man, we should
+have had children by the dozen, I suppose."
+
+Upon the whole, though he said nothing palpably unjust, he had the tone
+of a man blaming his wife as the real cause of their joint calamity,
+under which she suffered a deeper, nobler, and more silent anguish than
+himself. This was hard to bear; and when Sir Charles went away, Mary
+Wells ran in, with an angry expression on the tip of her tongue.
+
+She found Lady Bassett in a pitiable condition, lying rather than
+leaning on the table, with her hair loose about her, sobbing as if her
+heart would break.
+
+All that was good in Mary Wells tugged at her heart-strings. She flung
+herself on her knees beside her, and seizing her mistress's hand, and
+drawing it to her bosom, fell to crying and sobbing along with her.
+
+This canine devotion took Lady Bassett by surprise. She turned her
+tearful eyes upon her sympathizing servant, and said, "Oh, Mary!" and
+her soft hand pressed the girl's harder palm gratefully.
+
+Mary spoke first. "Oh, my lady," she sobbed, "it breaks my heart to see
+you so. And what a shame to blame you for what is no fault of yourn. If
+I was your husband the cradles would soon be full in this house; but
+these fine gentlemen, they be old before their time with smoking of
+tobacco; and then to come and lay the blame on we!"
+
+"Mary, I value you very much--more than I ever did a servant in my
+life; but if you speak against your master we shall part."
+
+"La, my lady, I wouldn't for the world. Sir Charles is a perfect
+gentleman. Why, he gave me a sovereign only the other day for nursing
+of him; but he didn't ought to blame you for no fault of yourn, and to
+make you cry. It tears me inside out to see you cry; you that is so
+good to rich and poor. I wouldn't vex myself so for that: dear heart,
+'twas always so; God sends meat to one house, and mouths to another."
+
+"I could be patient if poor Sir Charles was not so unhappy," sighed
+Lady Bassett; "but if ever you are a wife, Mary, you will know how
+wretched it makes us to see a beloved husband unhappy."
+
+"Then I'd make him happy," said Mary.
+
+"Ah, if I only could!"
+
+"Oh, I could tell you a way; for I have known it done; and now he is as
+happy as a prince. You see, my lady, some men are like children; to
+make them happy you must give them their own way; and so, if I was in
+your place, I wouldn't make two bites of a cherry, for sometimes I
+think he will fret himself out of the world for want on't."
+
+"Heaven forbid!"
+
+"It is my belief you would not be long behind him."
+
+"No, Mary. Why should I?"
+
+"Then--whisper, my lady!"
+
+And, although Lady Bassett drew slightly back at this freedom, Mary
+Wells poured into her ear a proposal that made her stare and shiver.
+
+As for the girl's own face, it was as unmoved as if it had been bronze.
+
+Lady Bassett drew back, and eyed her askant with amazement and terror.
+
+"What is this you have dared to say?"
+
+"Why, it is done every day."
+
+"By people of your class, perhaps. No; I don't believe it. Mary, I have
+been mistaken in you. I am afraid you are a vicious girl. Leave me,
+please. I can't bear the sight of you."
+
+Mary went away, very red, and the tear in her eye.
+
+In the evening Lady Bassett gave Mary Wells a month's warning, and Mary
+accepted it doggedly, and thought herself very cruelly used.
+
+After this mistress and maid did not exchange an unnecessary word for
+many days.
+
+This notice to leave was very bitter to Mary Wells, for she was in the
+very act of making a conquest. Young Drake, a very small farmer and
+tenant of Sir Charles, had fallen in love with her, and she liked him
+and had resolved he should marry her, with which view she was playing
+the tender but coy maiden very prettily. But Drake, though young and
+very much in love, was advised by his mother, and evidently resolved to
+go the old-fashioned way--keep company a year, and know the girl before
+offering the ring.
+
+Just before her month was out a more serious trouble threatened Mary
+Wells.
+
+Her low, artful amour with Richard Bassett had led to its natural
+results. By degrees she had gone further than she intended, and now the
+fatal consequences looked her in the face.
+
+She found herself in an odious position; for her growing regard for
+young Drake, though not a violent attachment, was enough to set her
+more and more against Richard Bassett, and she was preparing an entire
+separation from the latter when the fatal truth dawned on her.
+
+Then there was a temporary revulsion of feeling; she told her condition
+to Bassett, and implored him, with many tears, to aid her to disappear
+for a time and hide her misfortune, especially from her sister.
+
+Mr. Bassett heard her, and then gave her an answer that made her blood
+run cold. "Why do you come to me?" said he. "Why don't you go to the
+right man--young Drake?"
+
+He then told her he had had her watched, and she must not think to make
+a fool of him. She was as intimate with the young farmer as with him,
+and was in his company every day.
+
+Mary Wells admitted that Drake was courting her, but said he was a
+civil, respectful young man, who desired to make her his wife. "You
+have lost me that," said she, bursting into tears; "and so, for God's
+sake, show yourself a man for once, and see me through my trouble."
+
+The egotist disbelieved, or affected not to believe her, and said,
+"When there are two it is always the gentleman you girls deceive. But
+you can't make a fool of me, Mrs. Drake. Marry the farmer, and I'll
+give you a wedding present; that is all I can do for any other man's
+sweetheart. I have got my own family to provide for, and it is all I
+can contrive to make both ends meet."
+
+He was cold and inflexible to her prayers. Then she tried threats. He
+laughed at them. Said he, "The time is gone by for that: if you wanted
+to sue me for breach of promise, you should have done it at once; not
+waited eighteen months and taken another sweetheart first. Come, come;
+you played your little game. You made me come here week after week and
+bleed a sovereign. A woman that loved a man would never have been so
+hard on him as you were on me. I grinned and bore it; but when you ask
+me to own another man's child, a man of your own sort that you are in
+love with--you hate me--that is a little too much: no, Mrs. Drake; if
+that is your game we will fight it out--before the public if you like."
+And, having delivered this with a tone of harsh and loud defiance, he
+left her--left her forever. She sat down upon the cold ground and
+rocked herself. Despair was cold at her heart.
+
+She sat in that forlorn state for more than an hour. Then she got up
+and went to her mistress's room and sat by the fire, for her limbs were
+cold as well as her heart.
+
+She sat there, gazing at the fire and sighing heavily, till Lady
+Bassett came up to bed. She then went through her work like an
+automaton, and every now and then a deep sigh came from her breast.
+
+Lady Bassett heard her sigh, and looked at her. Her face was altered; a
+sort of sullen misery was written on it. Lady Bassett was quick at
+reading faces, and this look alarmed her. "Mary," said she, kindly, "is
+there anything the matter?"
+
+No reply.
+
+"Are you unwell?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Are you in trouble?"
+
+"Ay!" with a burst of tears.
+
+Lady Bassett let her cry, thinking it would relieve her, and then spoke
+to her again with the languid pensiveness of a woman who has also her
+trouble. "You have been very attentive to Sir Charles, and a kind good
+servant to me, Mary."
+
+"You are mocking me, my lady," said Mary, bitterly. "You wouldn't have
+turned me off for a word if I had been a good servant."
+
+Lady Bassett colored high, and was silenced for a moment. At last she
+said, "I feel it must seem harsh to you. You don't know how wicked it
+was to tempt me. But it is not as if you had _done_ anything wrong. I
+do not feel bound to mention mere words: I shall give you an excellent
+character, Mary--indeed I _have._ I think I have got a good place for
+you. I shall know to-morrow, and when it is settled we will look over
+my wardrobe together."
+
+This proposal implied a boxful of presents, and would have made Mary's
+dark eyes flash with delight at another time; but she was past all that
+now. She interrupted Lady Bassett with this strange speech: "You are
+very kind, my lady; will you lend me the key of your medicine chest?"
+
+Lady Bassett looked surprised, but said, "Certainly, Mary," and held
+out the keys.
+
+But, before Mary could take them, she considered a moment, and asked
+her what medicine she required.
+
+"Only a little laudanum."
+
+"No, Mary; not while you look like that, and refuse to tell me your
+trouble. I am your mistress, and must exert my authority for your good.
+Tell me at once what is the matter."
+
+"I'd bite my tongue off sooner."
+
+"You are wrong, Mary. I am sure I should be your best friend. I feel
+much indebted to you for the attention and the affection you have shown
+me, and I am grieved to see you so despondent. Make a friend of me.
+There--think it over, and talk to me again to-morrow."
+
+Mary Wells took the true servant's view of Lady Bassett's kindness. She
+looked at it as a trap; not, indeed, set with malice prepense, but
+still a trap. She saw that Lady Bassett meant kindly at present; but,
+for all that, she was sure that if she told the truth, her mistress
+would turn against her, and say, "Oh! I had no idea your trouble arose
+out of your own imprudence. I can do nothing for a vicious girl."
+
+She resolved therefore to say nothing, or else to tell some lie or
+other quite wide of the mark.
+
+Deplorable as this young woman's situation was, the duplicity and
+coarseness of mind which had brought her into it would have somewhat
+blunted the mental agony such a situation must inflict; but it was
+aggravated by a special terror; she knew that if she was found out she
+would lose the only sure friend she had in the world.
+
+The fact is, Mary Wells had seen a great deal of life during the two
+years she was out of the reader's sight. Rhoda had been very good to
+her; had set her up in a lodging-house, at her earnest request. She
+misconducted it, and failed: threw it up in disgust, and begged Rhoda
+to put her in the public line. Rhoda complied. Mary made a mess of the
+public-house. Then Rhoda showed her she was not fit to govern anything,
+and drove her into service again; and in that condition, having no more
+cares than a child, and plenty of work to do, and many a present from
+Rhoda, she had been happy.
+
+But Rhoda, though she forgave blunders, incapacity for business, and
+waste of money, had always told her plainly there was one thing she
+never would forgive.
+
+Rhoda Marsh had become a good Christian in every respect but one. The
+male rake reformed is rather tolerant; but the female rake reformed is,
+as a rule, bitterly intolerant of female frailty; and Rhoda carried
+this female characteristic to an extreme both in word and in deed. They
+were only half-sisters, after all; and Mary knew that she would be cast
+off forever if she deviated from virtue so far as to be found out.
+
+Besides the general warning, there had been a special one. When she
+read Mary's first letter from Huntercombe Hall Rhoda was rather taken
+aback at first; but, on reflection, she wrote to Mary, saying she could
+stay there on two conditions: she must be discreet, and never mention
+her sister Rhoda in the house, and she must not be tempted to renew her
+acquaintance with Richard Bassett. "Mind," said she, "if ever you speak
+to that villain I shall hear of it, and I shall never notice you
+again."
+
+This was the galling present and the dark future which had made so
+young and unsentimental a woman as Mary Wells think of suicide for a
+moment or two; and it now deprived her of her rest, and next day kept
+her thinking and brooding all the time her now leaden limbs were
+carrying her through her menial duties.
+
+The afternoon was sunny, and Sir Charles and Lady Bassett took their
+usual walk.
+
+Mary Wells went a little way with them, looking very miserable. Lady
+Bassett observed, and said, kindly, "Mary, you can give me that shawl;
+I will not keep you; go where you like till five o'clock."
+
+Mary never said so much as "Thank you." She put the shawl round her
+mistress, and then went slowly back. She sat down on the stone steps,
+and glared stupidly at the scene, and felt very miserable and leaden.
+She seemed to be stuck in a sort of slough of despond, and could not
+move in any direction to get out of it.
+
+While she sat in this somber reverie a gentleman walked up to the door,
+and Mary Wells lifted her head and looked at him. Notwithstanding her
+misery, her eyes rested on him with some admiration, for he was a model
+of a man: six feet high, and built like an athlete. His face was oval,
+and his skin dark but glowing; his hair, eyebrows, and long eyelashes
+black as jet; his gray eyes large and tender. He was dressed in black,
+with a white tie, and his clothes were well cut, and seemed
+superlatively so, owing to the importance and symmetry of the figure
+they covered. It was the new vicar, Mr. Angelo.
+
+He smiled on Mary graciously, and asked her how Sir Charles was.
+
+She said he was better.
+
+Then Mr. Angelo asked, more timidly, was Lady Bassett at home.
+
+"She is just gone out, sir."
+
+A look of deep disappointment crossed Mr. Angelo's face. It did not
+escape Mary Wells. She looked at him full, and, lowering her voice a
+little, said, "She is only in the grounds with Sir Charles. She will be
+at home about five o'clock."
+
+Mr. Angelo hesitated, and then said he would call again at five. He
+evidently preferred a duet to a trio. He then thanked Mary Wells with
+more warmth than the occasion seemed to call for, and retired very
+slowly: he had come very quickly.
+
+Mary Wells looked after him, and asked herself wildly if she could not
+make some use of him and his manifest infatuation.
+
+But before her mind could fix on any idea, and, indeed, before the
+young clergyman had taken twenty steps homeward, loud voices were heard
+down the shrubbery.
+
+These were followed by an agonized scream.
+
+Mary Wells started up, and the young parson turned: they looked at each
+other in amazement.
+
+Then came wild and piercing cries for help--in a woman's voice.
+
+The young clergyman cried out, _"Her_ voice! _her_ voice!" and dashed
+into the shrubbery with a speed Mary Wells had never seen equaled. He
+had won the 200-yard race at Oxford in his day.
+
+The agonized screams were repeated, and Mary Wells screamed in response
+as she ran toward the place.
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+SIR CHARLES BASSETT was in high spirits this afternoon--indeed, a
+little too high.
+
+"Bella, my love," said he, "now I'll tell you why I made you give me
+your signature this morning. The money has all come in for the wood,
+and this very day I sent Oldfield instructions to open an account for
+you with a London banker."
+
+Lady Bassett looked at him with tears of tenderness in her eyes.
+"Dearest," said she, "I have plenty of money; but the love to which I
+owe this present, that is my treasure of treasures. Well, I accept it,
+Charles; but don't ask me to spend it on myself; I should feel I was
+robbing you."
+
+"It is nothing to me how you spend it; I have saved it from the enemy."
+
+Now that very enemy heard these words. He had looked from the "Heir's
+Tower," and seen Sir Charles and Lady Bassett walking on their side the
+wall, and the nurse carrying his heir on the other side.
+
+He had come down to look at his child in the sun; but he walked softly,
+on the chance of overhearing Sir Charles and Lady Bassett say something
+or other about his health; his design went no further than that, but
+the fate of listeners is proverbial.
+
+Lady Bassett endeavored to divert her husband from the topic he seemed
+to be approaching; it always excited him now, and did him harm.
+
+"Do not waste your thoughts on that enemy. He is powerless."
+
+"At this moment, perhaps; but his turn is sure to come again; and I
+shall provide for it. I mean to live on half my income, and settle the
+other half on you. I shall act on the clause in the entail, and sell
+all the timber on the estate, except about the home park and my best
+covers. It will take me some years to do this; I must not glut the
+market, and spoil your profits; but every year I'll have a fall, till I
+have denuded Mr. Bassett's inheritance, as he calls it, and swelled
+your banker's account to a Plum. Bella, I have had a shake. Even now
+that I am better such a pain goes through my head, like a bullet
+crushing through it, whenever I get excited. I don't think I shall be a
+long-lived man. But never mind, I'll live as long as I can; and, while
+I do live, I'll work for you, and against that villain."
+
+"Charles," cried Lady Bassett, "I implore you to turn your thoughts
+away from that man, and to give up these idle schemes. Were you to die
+I should soon follow you; so pray do not shorten your life by these
+angry passions, or you will shorten mine."
+
+This appeal acted powerfully on Sir Charles, and he left off suddenly
+with flushed cheeks and tried to compose himself.
+
+But his words had now raised a corresponding fury on the other side of
+that boundary wall. Richard Bassett, stung with rage, and, unlike his
+high-bred cousin, accustomed to mix cunning even with his fury, gave
+him a terrible blow--a very _coup de Jarnac._ He spoke _at_ him; he ran
+forward to the nurse, and said very loud: "Let me see the little
+darling. He does you credit. What fat cheeks!--what arms!--an infant
+hercules! There, take him up the mound. Now lift him in your arms, and
+let him see his inheritance. Higher, nurse, higher. Ay, crow away,
+youngster; all that is yours--house and land and all. They may steal
+the trees; they can't make away with the broad acres. Ha! I believe he
+understands every word, nurse. See how he smiles and crows."
+
+At the sound of Bassett's voice Sir Charles started, and, at the first
+taunt, he uttered something between a moan and a roar, as of a wounded
+lion.
+
+"Come away," cried Lady Bassett. "He is doing it on purpose."
+
+But the stabs came too fast. Sir Charles shook her off, and looked
+wildly round for a weapon to strike his insulter with.
+
+"Curse him and his brat!" he cried. "They shall neither of them--I'll
+kill them both."
+
+He sprang fiercely at the wall, and, notwithstanding his weakly
+condition, raised himself above it, and glared over with a face so full
+of fury that Richard Bassett recoiled in dismay for a moment, and said,
+"Run! run! He'll hurt the child!"
+
+But, the next moment, Sir Charles's hands lost their power; he uttered
+a miserable moan, and fell gasping under the wall in an epileptic fit,
+with all the terrible symptoms I have described in a previous portion
+of this story. These were new to his poor wife, and, as she strove in
+vain to control his fearful convulsions, her shrieks rent the air.
+Indeed, her screams were so appalling that Bassett himself sprang at
+the wall, and, by a great effort of strength, drew himself up, and
+peered down, with white face, at the glaring eyes, clinched teeth,
+purple face, and foaming lips of his enemy, and his body that bounded
+convulsively on the ground with incredible violence.
+
+At that moment humanity prevailed over every thing, and he flung
+himself over the wall, and in his haste got rather a heavy fall
+himself. "It is a fit!" he cried, and running to the brook close by,
+filled his hat with water, and was about to dash it over Sir Charles's
+face.
+
+But Lady Bassett repelled him with horror. "Don't touch him, you
+villain! You have killed him." And then she shrieked again.
+
+At this moment Mr. Angelo dashed up, and saw at a glance what it was,
+for he had studied medicine a little. He said, "It is epilepsy. Leave
+him to me." He managed, by his great strength, to keep the patient's
+head down till the face got pale and the limbs still; then, telling
+Lady Bassett not to alarm herself too much, he lifted Sir Charles, and
+actually proceeded to carry him toward the house. Lady Bassett,
+weeping, proffered her assistance, and so did Mary Wells; but this
+athlete said, a little bruskly, "No, no; I have practiced this sort of
+thing;" and, partly by his rare strength, partly by his familiarity
+with all athletic feats, carried the insensible baronet to his own
+house, as I have seen my accomplished friend Mr. Henry Neville carry a
+tall actress on the mimic stage; only, the distance being much longer,
+the perspiration rolled down Mr. Angelo's face with so sustained an
+effort.
+
+He laid him gently on the floor of his study, while Lady Bassett sent
+two grooms galloping for medical advice, and half a dozen servants
+running for this and that stimulant, as one thing after another
+occurred to her agitated mind. The very rustling of dresses and scurry
+of feet overhead told all the house a great calamity had stricken it.
+
+Lady Bassett hung over the sufferer, sighing piteously, and was for
+supporting his beloved head with her tender arm; but Mr. Angelo told
+her it was better to keep the head low, that the blood might flow back
+to the vessels of the brain.
+
+She cast a look of melting gratitude on her adviser, and composed
+herself to apply stimulants under his direction and advice.
+
+Thus judiciously treated, Sir Charles began to recover consciousness in
+part. He stared and muttered incoherently. Lady Bassett thanked God on
+her knees, and then turned to Mr. Angelo with streaming eyes, and
+stretched out both hands to him, with an indescribable eloquence of
+gratitude. He gave her his hands timidly, and she pressed them both
+with all her soul. Unconsciously she sent a rapturous thrill through
+the young man's body: he blushed, and then turned pale, and felt for a
+moment almost faint with rapture at that sweet and unexpected pressure
+of her soft hands.
+
+But at this moment Sir Charles broke out in a sort of dry,
+business-like voice, "I'll kill the viper and his brood!" Then he
+stared at Mr. Angelo, and could not make him out at first. "Ah!" said
+he, complacently, "this is my private tutor: a man of learning. I read
+Homer with him; but I have forgotten it, all but one line--
+
+"[greek]
+
+"That's a beautiful verse. Homer, old boy, I'll take your advice. I'll
+kill the heir at law, and his brat as well, and when they are dead and
+well seasoned I'll sell them to that old timber-merchant, the devil, to
+make hell hotter. Order my horse, somebody, this minute!"
+
+During this tirade Lady Bassett's hands kept clutching, as if to stop
+it, and her eyes filled with horror.
+
+Mr. Angelo came again to her rescue. He affected to take it all as a
+matter of course, and told the servants they need not wait, Sir Charles
+was coming to himself by degrees, and the danger was all over.
+
+But when the servants were gone he said to Lady Bassett, seriously, "I
+would not let any servant be about Sir Charles, except this one. She is
+evidently attached to you. Suppose we take him to his own room."
+
+He then made Mary Wells a signal, and they carried him upstairs.
+
+Sir Charles talked all the while with pitiable vehemence. Indeed, it
+was a continuous babble, like a brook.
+
+Mary Wells was taking him into his own room, but Lady Bassett said,
+"No: into my room. Oh, I will never let him out of my sight again."
+
+Then they carried him into Lady Bassett's bedroom, and laid him gently
+down on a couch there.
+
+He looked round, observed the locality, and uttered a little sigh of
+complacency. He left off talking for the present, and seemed to doze.
+
+The place which exerted this soothing influence on Sir Charles had a
+contrary and strange effect on Mr. Angelo.
+
+It was of palatial size, and lighted by two side windows, and an oriel
+window at the end. The delicate stone shafts and mullions were such as
+are oftener seen in cathedrals than in mansions. The deep embrasure was
+filled with beautiful flowers and luscious exotic leaf-plants from the
+hot-houses. The floor was of polished oak, and some feet of this were
+left bare on all sides of the great Aubusson carpet made expressly for
+the room. By this means cleanliness penetrated into every corner: the
+oak was not only cleaned, but polished like a mirror. The curtains were
+French chintzes, of substance, and exquisite patterns, and very
+voluminous. On the walls was a delicate rose-tinted satin paper, to
+which French art, unrivaled in these matters, had given the appearance
+of being stuffed, padded, and divided into a thousand cozy pillows, by
+gold-headed nails.
+
+The wardrobes were of satin-wood. The bedsteads, one small, one large,
+were plain white, and gold in moderation.
+
+All this, however, was but the frame to the delightful picture of a
+wealthy young lady's nest.
+
+The things that startled and thrilled Mr. Angelo were those his
+imagination could see the fair mistress using. The exquisite toilet
+table; the Dresden mirror, with its delicate china frame muslined and
+ribboned; the great ivory-handled brushes, the array of cut-glass
+gold-mounted bottles, and all the artillery of beauty; the baths of
+various shapes and sizes, in which she laved her fair body; the bath
+sheets, and the profusion of linen, fine and coarse; the bed, with its
+frilled sheets, its huge frilled pillows, and its eider-down quilt,
+covered with bright purple silk.
+
+A delicate perfume came through the wardrobes, where strata of fine
+linen from Hamburg and Belfast lay on scented herbs; and this,
+permeating the room, seemed the very perfume of Beauty itself, and
+intoxicated the brain. Imagination conjured pictures proper to the
+scene: a goddess at her toilet; that glorious hair lying tumbled on the
+pillow, and burning in contrasted color with the snowy sheets and with
+the purple quilt.
+
+From this reverie he was awakened by a soft voice that said, "How can I
+ever thank you enough, sir?"
+
+Mr. Angelo controlled himself, and said, "By sending for me whenever I
+can be of the slightest use." Then, comprehending his danger, he added,
+hastily, "And I fear I am none whatever now." Then he rose to go.
+
+Lady Bassett gave him both her hands again, and this time he kissed one
+of them, all in a flurry; he could not resist the temptation. Then he
+hurried away, with his whole soul in a tumult. Lady Bassett blushed,
+and returned to her husband's side.
+
+Doctor Willis came, heard the case, looked rather grave and puzzled,
+and wrote the inevitable prescription; for the established theory is
+that man is cured by drugs alone.
+
+Sir Charles wandered a little while the doctor was there, and continued
+to wander after he was gone.
+
+Then Mary Wells begged leave to sleep in the dressing-room.
+
+Lady Bassett thanked her, but said she thought it unnecessary; a good
+night's rest, she hoped, would make a great change in the sufferer.
+
+Mary Wells thought otherwise, and quietly brought her little bed into
+the dressing-room and laid it on the floor.
+
+Her judgment proved right; Sir Charles was no better the next day, nor
+the day after. He brooded for hours at a time, and, when he talked,
+there was an incoherence in his discourse; above all, he seemed
+incapable of talking long on any subject without coming back to the
+fatal one of his childlessness; and, when he did return to this, it was
+sure to make him either deeply dejected or else violent against Richard
+Bassett and his son; he swore at them, and said they were waiting for
+his shoes.
+
+Lady Bassett's anxiety deepened; strange fears came over her. She put
+subtle questions to the doctor; he returned obscure answers, and went
+on prescribing medicines that had no effect.
+
+She looked wistfully into Mary Wells's face, and there she saw her own
+thoughts reflected.
+
+"Mary," said she, one day, in a low voice, "what do they say in the
+kitchen?"
+
+"Some say one thing, some another. What can they say? They never see
+him, and never shall while I am here."
+
+This reminded Lady Bassett that Mary's time was up. The idea of a
+stranger taking her place, and seeing Sir Charles in his present
+condition, was horrible to her. "Oh, Mary," said she, piteously,
+"surely you will not leave me just now?"
+
+"Do you wish me to stay, my lady?"
+
+"Can you ask it? How can I hope to find such devotion as yours, such
+fidelity, and, above all, such secrecy? Ah, Mary, I am the most unhappy
+lady in all England this day."
+
+Then she began to cry bitterly, and Mary Wells cried with her, and said
+she would stay as long as she could; "but," said she, "I gave you good
+advice, my lady, and so you will find."
+
+Lady Bassett made no answer whatever, and that disappointed Mary, for
+she wanted a discussion.
+
+
+
+The days rolled on, and brought no change for the better. Sir Charles
+continued to brood on his one misfortune. He refused to go
+out-of-doors, even into the garden, giving as his reason that he was
+not fit to be seen. "I don't mind a couple of women," said he, gravely,
+"but no man shall see Charles Bassett in his present state. No.
+Patience! Patience! I'll wait till Heaven takes pity on me. After all,
+it would be a shame that such a race as mine should die out, and these
+fine estates go to blackguards, and poachers, and anonymous-letter
+writers."
+
+Lady Bassett used to coax him to walk in the corridor; but, even then,
+he ordered Mary Wells to keep watch and let none of the servants come
+that way. From words he let fall it seems he thought "Childlessness"
+was written on his face, and that it had somehow degraded his features.
+
+Now a wealthy and popular baronet could not thus immure himself for any
+length of time without exciting curiosity, and setting all manner of
+rumors afloat. Visitors poured into Huntercombe to inquire.
+
+Lady Bassett excused herself to many, but some of her own sex she
+thought it best to encounter. This subjected her to the insidious
+attacks of curiosity admirably veiled with sympathy. The assailants
+were marvelously subtle; but so was the devoted wife. She gave kiss for
+kiss, and equivoque for equivoque. She seemed grateful for each visit;
+but they got nothing out of her except that Sir Charles's nerves were
+shaken by his fall, and that she was playing the tyrant for once, and
+insisting on absolute quiet for her patient.
+
+One visitor she never refused--Mr. Angelo. He, from the first, had been
+her true friend; had carried Sir Charles away from the enemy, and then
+had dismissed the gaping servants. She saw that he had divined her
+calamity and she knew from things he said to her that he would never
+breathe a word out-of-doors. She confided in him. She told him Mr.
+Bassett was the real cause of all this misery: he had insulted Sir
+Charles. The nature of this insult she suppressed. "And oh, Mr.
+Angelo," said she, "that man is my terror night and day! I don't know
+what he can do, but I feel he will do something if he ever learns my
+poor husband's condition."
+
+"I trust, Lady Bassett, you are convinced he will learn nothing from
+me. Indeed, I will tell the ruffian anything you like. He has been
+sounding me a little; called to inquire after his poor cousin--the
+hypocrite!"
+
+"How good you are! Please tell him absolute repose is prescribed for a
+time, but there is no doubt of Sir Charles's ultimate recovery."
+
+Mr. Angelo promised heartily.
+
+Mary Wells was not enough; a woman must have a man to lean on in
+trouble, and Lady Bassett leaned on Mr. Angelo. She even obeyed him.
+One day he told her that her own health would fail if she sat always in
+the sick-room; she must walk an hour every day.
+
+_"Must_ I?" said she, sweetly.
+
+"Yes, even if it is only in your own garden."
+
+From that time she used to walk with him nearly every day.
+
+Richard Bassett saw this from his tower of observation; saw it, and
+chuckled. "Aha!" said he. "Husband sick in bed. Wife walking in the
+garden with a young man--a parson, too. He is dark, she is fair.
+Something will come of this. Ha, ha!"
+
+Lady Bassett now talked of sending to London for advice; but Mary Wells
+dissuaded her. "Physic can't cure him. There's only one can cure him,
+and that is yourself, my lady."
+
+"Ah, would to Heaven I could!"
+
+"Try _my_ way, and you will see, my lady."
+
+"What, _that_ way! Oh, no, no!"
+
+"Well, then, if you won't, nobody else can."
+
+Such speeches as these, often repeated, on the one hand, and Sir
+Charles's melancholy on the other, drove Lady Bassett almost wild with
+distress and perplexity.
+
+Meanwhile her vague fears of Richard Bassett were being gradually
+realized.
+
+Bassett employed Wheeler to sound Dr. Willis as to his patient's
+condition.
+
+Dr. Willis, true to the honorable traditions of his profession, would
+tell him nothing. But Dr. Willis had a wife. She pumped him: and
+Wheeler pumped her.
+
+By this channel Wheeler got a somewhat exaggerated account of Sir
+Charles's state. He carried it to Bassett, and the pair put their heads
+together.
+
+The consultation lasted all night, and finally a comprehensive plan of
+action was settled. Wheeler stipulated that the law should not be
+broken in the smallest particular, but only stretched.
+
+Four days after this conference Mr. Bassett, Mr. Wheeler, and two
+spruce gentlemen dressed in black, sat upon the "Heir's Tower,"
+watching Huntercombe Hall.
+
+They watched, and watched, until they saw Mr. Angelo make his usual
+daily call.
+
+Then they watched, and watched, until Lady Bassett and the young
+clergyman came out and strolled together into the shrubbery.
+
+Then the two gentlemen went down the stairs, and were hastily conducted
+by Bassett to Huntercombe Hall.
+
+They rang the bell, and the taller said, in a business-like voice, "Dr.
+Mosely, from Dr. Willis."
+
+Mary Wells was sent for, and Dr. Mosely said, "Dr. Willis is unable to
+come to-day, and has sent me."
+
+Mary Wells conducted him to the patient. The other gentleman followed.
+
+"Who is this?" said Mary. "I can't let all the world in to see him."
+
+"It is Mr. Donkyn, the surgeon. Dr. Willis wished the patient to be
+examined with the stethoscope. You can stay outside, Mr. Donkyn."
+
+This new doctor announced himself to Sir Charles, felt his pulse, and
+entered at once into conversation with him.
+
+Sir Charles was in a talking mood, and very soon said one or two
+inconsecutive things. Dr. Mosely looked at Mary Wells and said he would
+write a prescription.
+
+As soon as he had written it he said, very loud, "Mr. Donkyn!"
+
+The door instantly opened, and that worthy appeared on the threshold.
+
+"Oblige me," said the doctor to his confrere, "by seeing this
+prescription made up; and you can examine the patient yourself; but do
+not fatigue him."
+
+With this he retired swiftly, and strolled down the corridor, to wait
+for his companion.
+
+He had not to wait long. Mr. Donkyn adopted a free and easy style with
+Sir Charles, and that gentleman marked his sense of the indignity by
+turning him out of the room, and kicking him industriously half-way
+down the passage.
+
+Messrs. Mosely and Donkyn retired to Highmore.
+
+Bassett was particularly pleased at the baronet having kicked Donkyn;
+so was Wheeler; so was Dr. Mosely. Donkyn alone did not share the
+general enthusiasm.
+
+When Sir Charles had disposed of Mr. Donkyn he turned on Mary Wells,
+and rated her soundly for bringing strangers into his room to gratify
+their curiosity; and when Lady Bassett came in he made his formal
+complaint, concluding with a proposal that one of two persons should
+leave Huntercombe, forever, that afternoon--Mary Wells or Sir Charles
+Bassett.
+
+Mary replied, not to him, but to her mistress, "He came from Dr.
+Willis, my lady. It was Dr. Mosely; and the other gent was a surgeon."
+
+"Two medical men, sent by Dr. Willis?" said Lady Bassett, knitting her
+brow with wonder and a shade of doubt.
+
+"A couple of her own sweethearts, sent by herself," suggested Sir
+Charles.
+
+Lady Bassett sat down and wrote a hasty letter to Dr. Willis. "Send a
+groom with it, as fast as he can ride," said she; and she was much
+discomposed and nervous and impatient till the answer came bade.
+
+Dr. Willis came in person. "I sent no one to take my place," said he.
+"I esteem my patient too highly to let any stranger prescribe for him
+or even see him--for a few days to come."
+
+Lady Bassett sank into a chair, and her eloquent face filled with an
+undefinable terror.
+
+Mary Wells, being on her defense, put in her word. "I am sure he was a
+doctor; for he wrote a prescription, and here 'tis."
+
+Dr. Willis examined the prescription, with no friendly eye.
+
+"Acetate of morphia! The very worst thing that could be given him. This
+is the favorite of the specialists. This fatal drug has eaten away a
+thousand brains for one it has ever benefited."
+
+"Ah!" said Lady Bassett. "'Specialists!' what are they?"
+
+"Medical men, who confine their practice to one disease."
+
+"Mad-doctors, he means," said the patient, very gravely.
+
+Lady Bassett turned very pale. "Then those were mad-doctors."
+
+"Never you mind, Bella," said Sir Charles. "I kicked the fellow
+handsomely."
+
+"I am sorry to hear it, Sir Charles."
+
+"Why?"
+
+Dr. Willis looked at Lady Bassett, as much as to say, "I shall not give
+_him_ my real reason;" and then said, "I think it very undesirable you
+should be excited and provoked, until your health is thoroughly
+restored."
+
+Dr. Willis wrote a prescription, and retired.
+
+Lady Bassett sank into a chair, and trembled all over. Her divining fit
+was on her; she saw the hand of the enemy, and filled with vague fears.
+
+Mary Wells tried to, comfort her. "I'll take care no more strangers get
+in here," said she. "And, my lady, if you are afraid, why not have the
+keepers, and two or three more, to sleep in the house? for, as for them
+footmen, they be too soft to fight."
+
+"I will," said Lady Bassett; "but I fear it will be no use. Our enemy
+has so many resources unknown to me. How can a poor woman fight with a
+shadow, that comes in a moment and strikes; and then is gone and leaves
+his victim trembling?"
+
+Then she slipped into the dressing-room and became hysterical, out of
+her husband's sight and hearing.
+
+Mary Wells nursed her, and, when she was better, whispered in her ear,
+"Lose no more time, then. Cure him. You know the way."
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+IN the present condition of her mind these words produced a strange
+effect on Lady Bassett. She quivered, and her eyes began to rove in
+that peculiar way I have already noticed; and then she started up and
+walked wildly to and fro; and then she kneeled down and prayed; and
+then, alarmed, perplexed, exhausted, she went and leaned her head on
+her patient's shoulder, and wept softly a long time.
+
+Some days passed, and no more strangers attempted to see Sir Charles.
+
+Lady Bassett was beginning to breathe again, when she was afflicted by
+an unwelcome discovery.
+
+Mary Wells fainted away so suddenly that, but for Lady Bassett's quick
+eye and ready hand, she would have fallen heavily.
+
+Lady Bassett laid her head down and loosened her stays, and discovered
+her condition. She said nothing till the young woman was well, and then
+she taxed her with it.
+
+Mary denied it plump; but, seeing her mistress's disgust at the
+falsehood, she owned it with many tears.
+
+Being asked how she could so far forget herself, she told Lady Bassett
+she had long been courted by a respectable young man; he had come to
+the village, bound on a three years' voyage, to bid her good-by, and,
+what with love and grief at parting, they had been betrayed into folly;
+and now he was on the salt seas, little dreaming in what condition he
+had left her: "and," said she, "before ever he can write to me, and I
+to him, I shall be a ruined girl; that is why I wanted to put an end to
+myself; I _will,_ too, unless I can find some way to hide it from the
+world."
+
+Lady Bassett begged her to give up those desperate thoughts; she would
+think what could be done for her. Lady Bassett could say no more to her
+just then, for she was disgusted with her.
+
+But when she came to reflect that, after all, this was not a lady, and
+that she appeared by her own account to be the victim of affection and
+frailty rather than of vice, she made some excuses; and then the girl
+had laid aside her trouble, her despair, and given her sorrowful mind
+to nursing and comforting Sir Charles. This would have outweighed a
+crime, and it made the wife's bowels yearn over the unfortunate girl.
+"Mary," said she, "others must judge you; I am a wife, and can only see
+your fidelity to my poor husband. I don't know what I shall do without
+you, but I think it is my duty to send you to him if possible. You are
+sure he really loves you?"
+
+"Me cross the seas after a young man?" said Mary Wells. "I'd as lieve
+hang myself on the nighest tree and make an end. No, my lady, if you
+are really my friend, let me stay here as long as I can--I will never
+go downstairs to be seen--and then give me money enough to get my
+trouble over unbeknown to my sister; she is all my fear. She is married
+to a gentleman, and got plenty of money, and I shall never want while
+she lives, and behave myself; but she would never forgive me if she
+knew. She is a hard woman; she is not like you, my lady. I'd liever cut
+my hand off than I'd trust her as I would you."
+
+Lady Bassett was not quite insensible to this compliment; but she felt
+uneasy.
+
+"What, help you to deceive your sister?"
+
+"For her good. Why, if any one was to go and tell her about me now,
+she'd hate them for telling her almost as much as she would hate me."
+
+Lady Bassett was sore perplexed. Unable to see quite clear in the
+matter, she naturally reverted to her husband and his interest. That
+dictated her course. She said, "Well, stay with us, Mary, as long as
+you can; and then money shall not be wanting to hide your shame from
+all the world; but I hope when the time comes you will alter your mind
+and tell your sister. May I ask what her name is?"
+
+Mary, after a moment's hesitation, said her name was Marsh.
+
+"I know a Mrs. Marsh," said Lady Bassett; "but, of course, that is not
+your sister. My Mrs. Marsh is rather fair."
+
+"So is my sister, for that matter."
+
+"And tall?"
+
+"Yes; but you never saw her. You'd never forget her it you had. She has
+got eyes like a lion."
+
+"Ah! Does she ride?"
+
+"Oh, she is famous for that; and driving, and all."
+
+"Indeed! But no; I see no resemblance."
+
+"Oh, she is only my half-sister."
+
+"This is very strange."
+
+Lady Bassett put her hand to her brow, and thought.
+
+"Mary," said she, "all this is very mysterious. We are wading in deep
+waters."
+
+Mary Wells had no idea what she meant.
+
+The day was not over yet. Just before dinner-time a fly from the
+station drove to the door, and Mr. Oldfield got out.
+
+He was detained in the hall by sentinel Moss.
+
+Lady Bassett came down to him. At the very sight of him she trembled,
+and said, "Richard Bassett?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Oldfield, "he is in the field again. He has been to the
+Court of Chancery _ex parte,_ and obtained an injunction _ad interim_
+to stay waste. Not another tree must be cut down on the estate for the
+present."
+
+"Thank Heaven it is no worse than that. Not another tree shall be
+felled on the grounds."
+
+"Of course not. But they will not stop there. If we do not move to
+dissolve the injunction, I fear they will go on and ask the Court to
+administer the estate, with a view to all interests concerned,
+especially those of the heir at law and his son."
+
+"What, while my husband lives?"
+
+"If they can prove him dead in law."
+
+"I don't understand you, Mr. Oldfield."
+
+"They have got affidavits of two medical men that he is insane."
+
+Lady Bassett uttered a faint scream, and put her hand to her heart.
+
+"And, of course, they will use that extraordinary fall of timber as a
+further proof, and also as a reason why the Court should interfere to
+protect the heir at law. Their case is well got up and very strong,"
+said Mr. Oldfield, regretfully.
+
+"Well, but you are a lawyer, and you have always beaten them hitherto."
+
+"I had law and fact on my side. It is not so now. To be frank, Lady
+Bassett, I don't see what I can do but watch the case, on the chance of
+some error or illegality. It is very hard to fight a case when you
+cannot put your client forward--and I suppose that would not be safe.
+How unfortunate that you have no children!"
+
+"Children! How could they help us?"
+
+"What a question! How could Richard Bassett move the Court if he was
+not the heir at law?"
+
+After a long conference Mr. Oldfield returned to town to see what he
+could do in the way of procrastination, and Lady Bassett promised to
+leave no stone unturned to cure Sir Charles in the meantime. Mr.
+Oldfield was to write immediately if any fresh step was taken.
+
+When Mr. Oldfield was gone, Lady Bassett pondered every word he had
+said, and, mild as she was, her rage began to rise against her
+husband's relentless enemy. Her wits worked, her eyes roved in that
+peculiar half-savage way I have described. She became intolerably
+restless; and any one acquainted with her sex might see that some
+strange conflict was going on in her troubled mind.
+
+Every now and then she would come and cling to her husband, and cry
+over him; and that seemed to still the tumult of her soul a little.
+
+She never slept all that night, and next day, clinging in her helpless
+agony to the nearest branch, she told Mary Wells what Bassett was
+doing, and said, "What shall I do? He is not mad; but he is in so very
+precarious a state that, if they get at him to torment him, they will
+drive him mad indeed."
+
+"My lady," said Mary Wells, "I can't go from my word. 'Tis no use in
+making two bites of a cherry. We must cure him: and if we don't, you'll
+never rue it but once, and that will be all your life."
+
+"I should look on myself with horror afterward were I to deceive him
+now."
+
+"No, my lady, you are too fond of him for that. Once you saw him happy
+you'd be happy too, no matter how it came about. That Richard Bassett
+will turn him out of this else. I am sure he will; he is a hard-hearted
+villain."
+
+Lady Bassett's eyes flashed fire; then her eyes roved; then she sighed
+deeply.
+
+Her powers of resistance were beginning to relax. As for Mary Wells,
+she gave her no peace; she kept instilling her mind into her mistress's
+with the pertinacity of a small but ever-dripping fount, and we know
+both by science and poetry that small, incessant drops of water will
+wear a hole in marble.
+
+"Gutta cavat lapidem non vi sed saepe cadendo."
+
+And in the midst of all a letter came from Mr. Oldfield, to tell her
+that Mr. Bassett threatened to take out a commission _de lunatico,_ and
+she must prepare Sir Charles for an examination; for, if reported
+insane, the Court would administer the estates; but the heir at law,
+Mr. Bassett, would have the ear of the Court and the right of
+application, and become virtually master of Huntercombe and Bassett;
+and, perhaps, considering the spirit by which he was animated, would
+contrive to occupy the very Hall itself. Lady Bassett was in the
+dressing-room when she received this blow, and it drove her almost
+frantic. She bemoaned her husband; she prayed God to take them both,
+and let their enemy have his will. She wept and raved, and at the
+height of her distress came from the other room a feeble cry,
+"Childless! childless! childless!"
+
+Lady Bassett heard that, and in one moment, from violent she became
+unnaturally and dangerously calm. She said firmly to Mary Wells, "This
+is more than I can bear. You pretend you can save him--do it."
+
+Mary Wells now trembled in her turn; but she seized the opportunity.
+"My lady, whatever I say you'll stand to?"
+
+"Whatever you say I'll stand to."
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+MARY WELLS, like other uneducated women, was not accustomed to think
+long and earnestly on any one subject; to use an expression she once
+applied with far less justice to her sister, her mind was like running
+water.
+
+But gestation affects the brains of such women, and makes them think
+more steadily, and sometimes very acutely; added to which, the peculiar
+dangers and difficulties that beset this girl during that anxious
+period stimulated her wits to the very utmost. Often she sat quite
+still for hours at a time, brooding and brooding, and asking herself
+how she could turn each new and unexpected event to her own benefit.
+Now so much does mental force depend on that exercise of keen and long
+attention, in which her sex is generally deficient, that this young
+woman's powers were more than doubled since the day she first
+discovered her condition, and began to work her brains night and day
+for her defense.
+
+Gradually, as events I have related unfolded themselves, she caught a
+glimpse of this idea, that if she could get her mistress to have a
+secret, her mistress would help her to keep her own. Hence her
+insidious whispers, and her constant praises of Mr. Angelo, who, she
+saw, was infatuated with Lady Bassett. Yet the designing creature was
+actually fond of her mistress: and so strangely compounded is a heart
+of this low kind that the extraordinary step she now took was half
+affectionate impulse, half egotistical design.
+
+She made a motion with her hand inviting Lady Bassett to listen, and
+stepped into Sir Charles's room.
+
+"Childless! childless! childless!"
+
+"Hush, sir," said Mary Wells. "Don't say so. We shan't be many mouths
+without one, please Heaven."
+
+Sir Charles shook his head sadly.
+
+"Don't you believe me?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What, did ever I tell you a lie?"
+
+"No: but you are mistaken. She would have told me."
+
+"Well, sir, my lady is young and shy, and I think she is afraid of
+disappointing you after all; for you know, sir, there's many a slip
+'twixt the cup and the lip. But 'tis as I tell you, sir."
+
+Sir Charles was much agitated, and said he would give her a hundred
+guineas if that was true. "Where is my darling wife? Why do I hear this
+through a servant?"
+
+Mary Wells cast a look at the door, and said, for Lady Bassett to hear,
+"She is receiving company. Now, sir, I have told you good news; will
+you do something to oblige me? You shouldn't speak of it direct to my
+lady just yet; and if you want all to go well, you mustn't vex my lady
+as you are doing now. What I mean, you mustn't be so downhearted--
+there's no reason for't--and you mustn't coop yourself up on this
+floor: it sets the folks talking, and worries my lady. You should give
+her every chance, being the way she is."
+
+Sir Charles said eagerly he would not vex her for the world. "I'll walk
+in the garden," said he; "but as for going abroad, you know I am not in
+a fit condition yet; my mind is clouded."
+
+"Not as I see."
+
+"Oh, not always. But sometimes a cloud seems to get into my head; and
+if I was in public I might do or say something discreditable. I would
+rather die."
+
+"La, sir!" said Mary Wells, in a broad, hearty way--"a cloud in your
+head! You've had a bad fall, and a fit at top on't, and no wonder your
+poor head do ache at times. You'll outgrow that--if you take the air
+and give over fretting about the t'other thing. I tell you you'll hear
+the music of a child's voice and little feet a-pattering up and down
+this here corridor before so very long--if so be you take my advice,
+and leave off fretting my lady with fretting of yourself. You should
+consider: she is too fond of you to be well when you be ill."
+
+"I'll get well for her sake," said Sir Charles, firmly.
+
+At this moment there was a knock at the door. Mary Wells opened it so
+that the servant could see nothing.
+
+"Mr. Angelo has called."
+
+"My lady will be down directly."
+
+Mary Wells then slipped into the dressing-room, and found Lady Bassett
+looking pale and wild. She had heard every word.
+
+"There, he is better already," said Mary Wells. "He shall walk in the
+garden with you this afternoon."
+
+"What have you done? I can't look him in the face now. Suppose he
+speaks to me?"
+
+"He will not. I'll manage that. You won't have to say a word. Only
+listen to what I say, and don't make a liar of me. He is better
+already."
+
+"How will this end?" cried Lady Bassett, helplessly. "What shall I do?"
+
+"You must go downstairs, and not come here for an hour at least, or
+you'll spoil my work. Mr. Angelo is in the drawing-room."
+
+"I will go to him."
+
+Lady Bassett slipped out by the other door, and it was three hours,
+instead of one, before she returned.
+
+For the first time in her life she was afraid to face her husband.
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+MEANTIME Mary Wells had a long conversation with her master; and after
+that she retired into the adjoining room, and sat down to sew
+baby-linen clandestinely.
+
+After a considerable tune Lady Bassett came in, and, sinking into a
+chair, covered her face with her hands. She had her bonnet on.
+
+Mary Wells looked at her with black eyes that flashed triumph.
+
+After so surveying her for some time she said: "I have been at him
+again, and there's a change for the better already. He is not the same
+man. You go and see else."
+
+Lady Bassett now obeyed her servant: she rose and crept like a culprit
+into Sir Charles's room. She found him clean shaved, dressed to
+perfection, and looking more cheerful than she had seen him for many a
+long day. "Ah, Bella," said he, "you have your bonnet on; let us have a
+walk in the garden."
+
+Lady Bassett opened her eyes and consented eagerly, though she was very
+tired.
+
+They walked together; and Sir Charles, being a man that never broke his
+word, put no direct question to Lady Bassett, but spoke cheerfully of
+the future, and told her she was his hope and his all; she would baffle
+his enemy, and cheer his desolate hearth.
+
+She blushed, and looked confused and distressed; then he smiled, and
+talked of indifferent matters, until a pain in his head stopped him;
+then he became confused, and, putting his hand piteously to his head,
+proposed to retire at once to his own room.
+
+Lady Bassett brought him in, and he reposed in silence on the sofa.
+
+The next day, and, indeed, many days afterward, presented similar
+features.
+
+Mary Wells talked to her master of the bright days to come, of the joy
+that would fill the house if all went well, and of the defeat in store
+for Richard Bassett. She spoke of this man with strange virulence; said
+"she would think no more of sticking a knife into him than of eating
+her dinner;" and in saying this she showed the white of her eye in a
+manner truly savage and vindictive.
+
+To hurt the same person is a surer bond than to love the same person;
+and this sentiment of Mary Wells, coupled with her uniform kindness to
+himself, gave her great influence with Sir Charles in his present
+weakened condition. Moreover, the young woman had an oily, persuasive
+tongue; and she who persuades us is stronger than he who convinces us.
+
+Thus influenced, Sir Charles walked every day in the garden with his
+wife, and forbore all direct allusion to her condition, though his
+conversation was redolent of it.
+
+He was still subject to sudden collapses of the intellect; but he
+became conscious when they were coming on; and at the first warning he
+would insist on burying himself in his room.
+
+After some days he consented to take short drives with Lady Bassett in
+the open carriage. This made her very joyful. Sir Charles refused to
+enter a single house, so high was his pride and so great his terror
+lest he should expose himself; but it was a great point gained that she
+could take him about the county, and show him in the character of a
+mere invalid.
+
+Every thing now looked like a cure, slow, perhaps, but progressive; and
+Lady Bassett had her joyful hours, yet not without a bitter alloy: her
+divining mind asked itself what she should say and do when Sir Charles
+should be quite recovered. This thought tormented her, and sometimes so
+goaded her that she hated Mary Wells for her well-meant interference,
+and, by a natural recoil from the familiarity circumstances had forced
+on her, treated that young woman with great coldness and hauteur.
+
+The artful girl met this with extreme meekness and servility; the only
+reply she ever hazarded was an adroit one; she would take this
+opportunity to say, "How much better master do get ever since I took in
+hand to cure him!"
+
+This oblique retort seldom failed. Lady Bassett would look at her
+husband, and her face would clear; and she would generally end by
+giving Mary a collar, or a scarf, or something.
+
+Thus did circumstances enable the lower nature to play with the higher.
+Lady Bassett's struggles were like those of a bird in a silken net;
+they led to nothing. When it came to the point she could neither do nor
+say any thing to retard his cure. Any day the Court of Chancery, set in
+motion by Richard Bassett, might issue a commission _de lunatico,_ and,
+if Sir Charles was not cured by that time, Richard Bassett would
+virtually administer the estate--so Mr. Oldfield had told her--and
+that, she felt sure, would drive Sir Charles mad for life.
+
+So there was no help for it. She feared, she writhed, she hated
+herself; but Sir Charles got better daily, and so she let herself drift
+along.
+
+Mary Wells made it fatally easy to her. She was the agent. Lady Bassett
+was silent and passive.
+
+After all she had a hope of extrication. Sir Charles once cured, she
+would make him travel Europe with her. Money would relieve her of Mary
+Wells, and distance cut all the other cords.
+
+And, indeed, a time came when she looked back on her present situation
+with wonder at the distress it had caused her. "I was in shallow water
+then," said she--"but now!"
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+SIR CHARLES observed that he was never trusted alone. He remarked this,
+and inquired, with a peculiar eye, why that was.
+
+Lady Bassett had the tact to put on an innocent look and smile, and
+say: "That is true, dearest. I _have_ tied you to my apron-string
+without mercy. But it serves you right for having fits and frightening
+me. You get well, and my tyranny will cease at once."
+
+However, after this she often left him alone in the garden, to remove
+from his mind the notion that he was under restraint from her.
+
+Mr. Bassett observed this proceeding from his tower.
+
+One day Mr. Angelo called, and Lady Bassett left Sir Charles in the
+garden, to go and speak to him.
+
+She had not been gone many minutes when a boy ran to Sir Charles, and
+said, "Oh, sir, please come to the gate; the lady has had a fall, and
+hurt herself."
+
+Sir Charles, much alarmed, followed the boy, who took him to a side
+gate opening on the high-road. Sir Charles rushed through this, and was
+passing between two stout fellows that stood one on each side the gate,
+when they seized him, and lifted him in a moment into a close carriage
+that was waiting on the spot. He struggled, and cried loudly for
+assistance; but they bundled him in and sprang in after him; a third
+man closed the door, and got up by the side of the coachman. He drove
+off, avoiding the village, soon got upon a broad road, and bowled along
+at a great rate, the carriage being light, and drawn by two powerful
+horses.
+
+So cleverly and rapidly was it done that, but for a woman's quick ear,
+the deed might not have been discovered for hours; but Mary Wells heard
+the cry for help through an open window, recognized Sir Charles's
+voice, and ran screaming downstairs to Lady Bassett: she ran wildly
+out, with Mr. Angelo, to look for Sir Charles. He was nowhere to be
+found. Then she ordered every horse in the stables to be saddled; and
+she ran with Mary to the place where the cry had been heard.
+
+For some time no intelligence whatever could be gleaned; but at last an
+old man was found who said he had heard somebody cry out, and soon
+after that a carriage had come tearing by him, and gone round the
+corner: but this direction was of little value, on account of the many
+roads, any one of which it might have taken.
+
+However, it left no doubt that Sir Charles had been taken away from the
+place by force.
+
+Terror-stricken, and pale as death, Lady Bassett never lost her head
+for a moment. Indeed, she showed unexpected fire; she sent off coachman
+and grooms to scour the country and rouse the gentry to help her; she
+gave them money, and told them not to come back till they had found Sir
+Charles.
+
+Mr. Angelo said, eagerly, "I'll go to the nearest magistrate, and we
+will arrest Richard Bassett on suspicion."
+
+"God bless you, dear friend!" sobbed Lady Bassett. "Oh, yes, it is his
+doing--murderer!"
+
+Off went Mr. Angelo on his errand.
+
+He was hardly gone when a man was seen running and shouting across the
+fields. Lady Bassett went to meet him, surrounded by her humble
+sympathizers. It was young Drake: he came up panting, with a
+double-barreled gun in his hand (for he was allowed to shoot rabbits on
+his own little farm), and stammered out, "Oh, my lady--Sir
+Charles--they have carried him off against his will!"
+
+"Who? Where? Did you see him?"
+
+"Ay, and heerd him and all. I was ferreting rabbits by the side of the
+turnpike-road yonder, and a carriage came tearing along, and Sir
+Charles put out his head and cried to me,' Drake, they are kidnapping
+me. Shoot!' But they pulled him back out of sight."
+
+"Oh, my poor husband! And did you let them? Oh!"
+
+"Couldn't catch 'em, my lady: so I did as I was bid; got to my gun as
+quick as ever I could, and gave the coachman both barrels hot."
+
+"What, kill him?"
+
+"Lord, no; 'twas sixty yards off; but made him holler and squeak a good
+un. Put thirty or forty shots into his back, I know."
+
+"Give me your hand, Mr. Drake. I'll never forget that shot." Then she
+began to cry.
+
+"Doant ye, my lady, doant ye," said the honest fellow, and was within
+an ace of blubbering for sympathy. "We ain't a lot o' babies, to see
+our squire kidnaped. If you would lend Abel Moss there and me a couple
+o' nags, we'll catch them yet, my lady."
+
+"That we will," cried Abel. "You take me where you fired that shot, and
+we'll follow the fresh wheel-tracks. They can't beat us while they keep
+to a road."
+
+The two men were soon mounted, and in pursuit, amid the cheers of the
+now excited villagers. But still the perpetrators of the outrage had
+more than an hour's start; and an hour was twelve miles.
+
+And now Lady Bassett, who had borne up so bravely, was seized with a
+deadly faintness, and supported into the house.
+
+All this spread like wild-fire, and roused the villagers, and they must
+have a hand in it. Parson had said Mr. Bassett was to blame; and that
+passed from one to another, and so fermented that, in the evening, a
+crowd collected round Highmore House and demanded Mr. Bassett.
+
+The servants were alarmed, and said he was not at home.
+
+Then the men demanded boisterously what he had done with Sir Charles,
+and threatened to break the windows unless they were told; and, as
+nobody in the house could tell them, the women egged on the men, and
+they did break the windows; but they no sooner saw their own work than
+they were a little alarmed at it, and retired, talking very loud to
+support their waning courage and check their rising remorse at their
+deed.
+
+They left a house full of holes and screams, and poor little Mrs.
+Bassett half dead with fright.
+
+As for Lady Bassett, she spent a horrible night of terror, suspense,
+and agony. She could not lie down, nor even sit still; she walked
+incessantly, wringing her hands, and groaning for news.
+
+Mary Wells did all she could to comfort her; but it was a situation
+beyond the power of words to alleviate.
+
+Her intolerable suspense lasted till four o'clock in the morning; and
+then, in the still night, horses' feet came clattering up to the door.
+
+Lady Bassett went into the hall. It was dimly lighted by a single lamp.
+The great door was opened, and in clattered Moss and Drake, splashed
+and weary and downcast.
+
+"Well?" cried Lady Bassett, clasping her hands.
+
+"My lady," said Moss, "we tracked the carriage into the next county, to
+a place thirty miles from here--to a lodge--and there they stopped us.
+The place is well guarded with men and great big dogs. We heerd 'em
+bark, didn't us, Will?"
+
+"Ay," said Drake, dejectedly.
+
+"The man as kept the lodge was short, but civil. Says he, 'This is a
+place nobody comes in but by law, and nobody goes out but by law. If
+the gentleman is here you may go home and sleep; he is safe enough.'"
+
+"A prison? No!"
+
+"A 'sylum, my lady."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+THE lady put her hand to her heart, and was silent a long time.
+
+At last she said, doggedly but faintly, "You will go with me to that
+place to-morrow, one of you."
+
+"I'll go, my lady," said Moss. "Will, here, had better not show his
+face. They might take the law on him for that there shot."
+
+Drake hung his head, and his ardor was evidently cooled by discovering
+that Sir Charles had been taken to a mad-house.
+
+Lady Bassett saw and sighed, and said she would take Moss to show her
+the way.
+
+At eleven o'clock next morning a light carriage and pair came round to
+the Hall gate, and a large basket, a portmanteau, and a bag were placed
+on the roof under care of Moss; smaller packages were put inside; and
+Lady Bassett and her maid got in, both dressed in black.
+
+They reached Bellevue House at half-past two. The lodge-gate was open,
+to Lady Bassett's surprise, and they drove through some pleasant
+grounds to a large white house.
+
+The place at first sight had no distinctive character: great ingenuity
+had been used to secure the inmates without seeming to incarcerate
+them. There were no bars to the lower front windows, and the side
+windows, with their defenses, were shrouded by shrubs. The sentinels
+were out of sight, or employed on some occupation or other, but within
+call. Some patients were playing at cricket; some ladies looking on;
+others strolling on the gravel with a nurse, dressed very much like
+themselves, who did not obtrude her functions unnecessarily. All was
+apparent indifference, and Argus-eyed vigilance. So much for the
+surface.
+
+Of course, even at this moment, some of the locked rooms had violent
+and miserable inmates.
+
+The hall door opened as the carriage drew up; a respectable servant
+came forward.
+
+Lady Bassett handed him her card, and said, "I am come to see my
+husband, sir."
+
+The man never moved a muscle, but said, "You must wait, if you please,
+till I take your card in."
+
+He soon returned, and said, "Dr. Suaby is not here, but the gentleman
+in charge will see you."
+
+Lady Bassett got out, and, beckoning Mary Wells, followed the servant
+into a curious room, half library, half chemist's shop; they called it
+"the laboratory."
+
+Here she found a tall man leaning on a dirty mantelpiece, who received
+her stiffly. He had a pale mustache, very thin lips, and altogether a
+severe manner. His head bald, rather prematurely, and whiskers
+abundant.
+
+Lady Bassett looked him all over with one glance of her woman's eye,
+and saw she had a hard and vain man to deal with.
+
+"Are you the gentleman to whom this house belongs?" she faltered.
+
+"No, madam; I am in charge during Dr. Suaby's absence."
+
+"That comes to the same thing. Sir, I am come to see my dear husband."
+
+"Have you an order?"
+
+"An order, sir? I am his wife."
+
+Mr. Salter shrugged his shoulders a little, and said, "I have no
+authority to let any visitor see a patient without an order from the
+person by whose authority he is placed here, or else an order from the
+commissioners."
+
+"But that cannot apply to his wife; to her who is one with him, for
+better for worse, in sickness or health."
+
+"It seems hard; but I have no discretion in the matter. The patient
+only came yesterday--much excited. He is better to-day, and an
+interview with you would excite him again."
+
+"Oh no! no! no! I can always soothe him. I will be so mild, so gentle.
+You can be present, and hear every word I say. I will only kiss him,
+and tell him who has done this, and to be brave, for his wife watches
+over him; and, sir, I will beg him to be patient, and not blame you nor
+any of the people here."
+
+"Very proper, very proper; but really this interview must be postponed
+till you have an order, or Dr. Suaby returns. He can violate his own
+rules if he likes; but I cannot, and, indeed, I dare not."
+
+"Dare not let a lady see her husband? Then you are not a man. Oh, can
+this be England? It is too inhuman."
+
+Then she began to cry and wring her hands.
+
+"This is very painful," said Mr. Salter, and left the room.
+
+The respectable servant looked in soon after, and Lady Bassett told
+him, between her sobs, that she had brought some clothes and things for
+her husband. "Surely, sir," said she, "they will not refuse me that?"
+
+"Lord, no, ma'am," said the man. "You can give them to the keeper and
+nurse in charge of him."
+
+Lady Bassett slipped a guinea into the man's hand directly. "Let me see
+those people," said she.
+
+The man winked, and vanished: he soon reappeared, and said, loudly,
+"Now, madam, if you will order the things into the hall."
+
+Lady Bassett came out and gave the order.
+
+A short, bull-necked man, and rather a pretty young woman with a
+flaunting cap, bestirred themselves getting down the things; and Mr.
+Salter came out and looked on.
+
+Lady Bassett called Mary Wells, and gave her a five-pound note to slip
+into the man's hand. She telegraphed the girl, who instantly came near
+her with an India rubber bath, and, affecting ignorance, asked her what
+that was.
+
+Lady Bassett dropped three sovereigns into the bath, and said, "Ten
+times, twenty times that, if you are kind to him. Tell him it is his
+cousin's doing, but his wife watches over him."
+
+"All right," said the girl. "Come again when the doctor is here."
+
+All this passed, in swift whispers, a few yards from Mr. Salter, and he
+now came forward and offered his arm to conduct Lady Bassett to the
+carriage.
+
+But the wretched, heart-broken wife forgot her art of pleasing. She
+shrank from him with a faint cry of aversion, and got into her carriage
+unaided. Mary Wells followed her.
+
+Mr. Salter was unwilling to receive this rebuff. He followed, and said,
+"The clothes shall be given, with any message you may think fit to
+intrust to me."
+
+Lady Bassett turned away sharply from him, and said to Mary Wells,
+"Tell him to drive home. Home! I have none now. Its light is torn from
+me."
+
+The carriage drove away as she uttered these piteous words.
+
+She cried at intervals all the way home; and could hardly drag herself
+upstairs to bed.
+
+Mr. Angelo called next day with bad news. Not a magistrate would move a
+finger against Mr. Bassett: he had the law on his side. Sir Charles was
+evidently insane; it was quite proper he should be put in security
+before he did some mischief to himself or Lady Bassett. "They say, why
+was he hidden for two months, if there was not something very wrong?"
+
+Lady Bassett ordered the carriage and paid several calls, to counteract
+this fatal impression.
+
+She found, to her horror, she might as well try to move a rock. There
+was plenty of kindness and pity; but the moment she began to assure
+them her husband was not insane she was met with the dead silence of
+polite incredulity. One or two old friends went further, and said, "My
+dear, we are told he could not be taken away without two doctors'
+certificates: now, consider, they must know better than you. Have
+patience, and let them cure him."
+
+Lady Bassett withdrew her friendship on the spot from two ladies for
+contradicting her on such a subject; she returned home almost wild
+herself.
+
+In the village her carriage was stopped by a woman with her hair all
+flying, who told her, in a lamentable voice, that Squire Bassett had
+sent nine men to prison for taking Sir Charles's part and ill-treating
+his captors.
+
+"My lawyer shall defend them at my expense," said Lady Bassett, with a
+sigh.
+
+At last she got home, and went up to her own room, and there was Mary
+Wells waiting to dress her.
+
+She tottered in, and sank into a chair. But, after this temporary
+exhaustion, came a rising tempest of passion; her eyes roved, her
+fingers worked, and her heart seemed to come out of her in words of
+fire. "I have not a friend in all the county. That villain has only to
+say 'Mad,' and all turn from me, as if an angel of truth had said
+'Criminal.' We have no friend but one, and she is my servant. Now go
+and envy wealth and titles. No wife in this parish is so poor as I;
+powerless in the folds of a serpent. I can't see my husband without an
+order from _him._ He is all power, I and mine all weakness." She raised
+her clinched fists, she clutched her beautiful hair as if she would
+tear it out by the roots. "I shall, go mad! I shall go mad! No!" said
+she, all of a sudden. "That will not do. That is what he wants--and
+then my darling _would_ be defenseless. I will not go mad." Then
+suddenly grinding her white teeth: "I'll teach him to drive a lady to
+despair. I'll fight."
+
+She descended, almost without a break, from the fury of a Pythoness to
+a strange calm. Oh! then it is her sex are dangerous.
+
+"Don't look so pale," said she, and she actually smiled. "All is fair
+against so foul a villain. You and I will defeat him. Dress me, Mary."
+
+Mary Wells, carried away by the unusual violence of a superior mind,
+was quite bewildered.
+
+Lady Bassett smiled a strange smile, and said, "I'll show you how to
+dress me;" and she did give her a lesson that astonished her.
+
+"And now," said Lady Bassett, "I shall dress you." And she took a loose
+full dress out of her wardrobe, and made Mary Wells put it on; but
+first she inserted some stuffing so adroitly that Mary seemed very
+buxom, but what she wished to hide was hidden. Not so Lady Bassett
+herself. Her figure looked much rounder than in the last dress she
+wore.
+
+With all this she was late for dinner, and when she went down Mr.
+Angelo had just finished telling Mr. Oldfield of the mishap to the
+villagers.
+
+Lady Bassett came in animated and beautiful.
+
+Dinner was announced directly, and a commonplace conversation kept up
+till the servants were got rid of. She then told Mr. Oldfield how she
+had been refused admittance to Sir Charles at Bellevue House, a plain
+proof, to her mind, they knew her husband was not insane; and begged
+him to act with energy, and get Sir Charles out before his reason could
+be permanently injured by the outrage and the horror of his situation.
+
+This led to a discussion, in which Mr. Angelo and Lady Bassett threw
+out various suggestions, and Mr. Oldfield cooled their ardor with sound
+objections. He was familiar with the Statutes de Lunatico, and said
+they had been strictly observed both in the capture of Sir Charles and
+in Mr. Salter's refusal to let the wife see the husband. In short, he
+appeared either unable or unwilling to see anything except the strong
+legal position of the adverse party.
+
+Mr. Oldfield was one of those prudent lawyers who search for the
+adversary's strong points, that their clients may not be taken by
+surprise; and that is very wise of them. But wise things require to be
+done wisely: he sometimes carried this system so far as to discourage
+his client too much. It is a fine thing to make your client think his
+case the weaker of the two, and then win it for him easily; that
+gratifies your own foible, professional vanity. But suppose, with your
+discouraging him so, he flings up or compromises a winning case?
+Suppose he takes the huff and goes to some other lawyer, who will warm
+him with hopes instead of cooling him with a one-sided and hostile view
+of his case?
+
+In the present discussion Mr. Oldfield's habit of beginning by admiring
+his adversaries, together with his knowledge of law and little else,
+and his secret conviction that Sir Charles was unsound of mind,
+combined to paralyze him; and, not being a man of invention, he could
+not see his way out of the wood at all; he could negative Mr. Angelo's
+suggestions and give good reasons, but he could not, or did not,
+suggest anything better to be done.
+
+Lady Bassett listened to his negative wisdom with a bitter smile, and
+said, at last, with a sigh: "It seems, then, we are to sit quiet and do
+nothing, while Mr. Bassett and his solicitor strike blow upon blow.
+There! I'll fight my own battle; and do you try and find some way of
+defending the poor souls that are in trouble because they did not sit
+with their hands before them when their benefactor was outraged.
+Command my purse, if money will save them from prison."
+
+Then she rose with dignity, and walked like a camelopard all down the
+room on the side opposite to Mr. Oldfield. Angelo flew to open the
+door, and in a whisper begged a word with her in private. She bowed
+ascent, and passed on from the room.
+
+"What a fine creature!" said Mr. Oldfield. "How she walks!"
+
+Mr. Angelo made no reply to this, but asked him what was to be done for
+the poor men: "they will be up before the Bench to-morrow."
+
+Stung a little by Lady Bassett's remark, Mr. Oldfield answered,
+promptly, "We must get some tradesmen to bail them with our money. It
+will only be a few pounds apiece. If the bail is accepted, they shall
+offer pecuniary compensation, and get up a defense; find somebody to
+swear Sir Charles was sane--that sort of evidence is always to be got.
+Counsel must do the rest. Simple natives--benefactor outraged--honest
+impulse--regretted, the moment they understood the capture had been
+legally made. Then throw dirt on the plaintiff. He is malicious, and
+can be proved to have forsworn himself in Bassett _v._ Bassett."
+
+A tap at the door, and Mary Wells put in her head. "If you please, sir,
+my lady is tired, and she wishes to say a word to you before she goes
+upstairs."
+
+"Excuse me one minute," said Mr. Angelo, and followed Mary Wells. She
+ushered him into a boudoir, where he found Lady Bassett seated in an
+armchair, with her head on her hand, and her eyes fixed sadly on the
+carpet.
+
+She smiled faintly, and said, "Well, what do you wish to say to me?"
+
+"It is about Mr. Oldfield. He is clearly incompetent."
+
+"I don't know. I snubbed him, poor man: but if the law is all against
+us!"
+
+"How does he know that? He assumes it because he is prejudiced in favor
+of the enemy. How does he _know_ they have done _everything_ the Act of
+Parliament requires? And, if they have, Law is not invincible. When Law
+defies Morality, it gets baffled, and trampled on in all civilized
+communities."
+
+"I never heard that before."
+
+"But you would if you had been at Oxford," said he, smiling.
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"What we want is a man of genius, of invention; a man who will see
+every chance, take every chance, lawful or unlawful, and fight with all
+manner of weapons."
+
+Lady Bassett's eye flashed a moment. "Ah!" said she; "but where can I
+find such a man, with knowledge to guide his zeal?"
+
+"I think I know of a man who could at all events advise you, if you
+would ask him."
+
+"Ah! Who?"
+
+"He is a writer; and opinions vary as to his merit. Some say he has
+talent; others say it is all eccentricity and affectation. One thing is
+certain--his books bring about the changes he demands. And then he is
+in earnest; he has taken a good many alleged lunatics out of
+confinement."
+
+"Is it possible? Then let us apply to him at once."
+
+"He lives in London; but I have a friend who knows him. May I send an
+outline to him through that friend, and ask him whether he can advise
+you in the matter?"
+
+"You may; and thank you a thousand times!"
+
+"A mind like that, with knowledge, zeal, and invention, must surely
+throw some light."
+
+"One would think so, dear friend."
+
+"I'll write to-night and send a letter to Greatrex; we shall perhaps
+get an answer the day after to-morrow."
+
+"Ah! you are not the one to go to sleep in the service of a friend. A
+writer, did you say? What does he write?"
+
+"Fiction."
+
+"What, novels?"
+
+"And dramas and all."
+
+Lady Bassett sighed incredulously. "I should never think of going to
+Fiction for wisdom."
+
+"When the Family Calas were about to be executed unjustly, with the
+consent of all the lawyers and statesmen in France, one man in a nation
+saw the error, and fought for the innocent, and saved them; and that
+one wise man in a nation of fools was a writer of fiction."
+
+"Oh! a learned Oxonian can always answer a poor ignorant thing like me.
+One swallow does not make summer, for all that."
+
+"But this writer's fictions are not like the novels you read; they are
+works of laborious research. Besides, he is a lawyer, as well as a
+novelist."
+
+"Oh, if he is a lawyer!"
+
+"Then I may write?"
+
+"Yes," said Lady Bassett, despondingly.
+
+"What is to become of Oldfield?"
+
+"Send him to the drawing-room. I will go down and endure him for
+another hour. You can write your letter here, and then please come and
+relieve me of Mr. Negative."
+
+She rang, and ordered coffee and tea into the drawing-room; and Mr.
+Oldfield found her very cold company.
+
+In half an hour Mr. Angelo came down, looking flushed and very
+handsome; and Lady Bassett had some fresh tea made for him.
+
+This done she bade the gentlemen goodnight, and went to her room. Here
+she found Mary Wells full of curiosity to know whether the lawyer would
+get Sir Charles out of the asylum.
+
+Lady Bassett gave loose to her indignation, and said nothing was to be
+expected from such a Nullity. "Mary, he could not see. I gave him every
+opportunity. I walked slowly down the room before him after dinner; and
+I came into the drawing-room and moved about, and yet he could not
+see."
+
+"Then you will have to tell him, that is all."
+
+"Never; no more shall you. I'll not trust my fate, and Sir Charles's,
+to a man that has no eyes."
+
+For this feminine reason she took a spite against poor Oldfield; but to
+Mr. Angelo she suppressed the real reason, and entered into that ardent
+gentleman's grounds of discontent, though these alone would not have
+entirely dissolved her respect for the family solicitor.
+
+Next afternoon Angelo came to her in great distress and ire. "Beaten!
+beaten! and all through our adversaries having more talent. Mr. Bassett
+did not appear at first. Wheeler excused him on the ground that his
+wife was seriously ill through the fright. Bassett's servants were
+called, and swore to the damage and to the men, all but one. He got
+off. Then Oldfield made a dry speech; and a tradesman he had prepared
+offered bail. The magistrates were consulting, when in burst Mr.
+Bassett all in black, and made a speech fifty times stronger than
+Oldfield's, and sobbed, and told them the rioters had frightened his
+wife so she had been prematurely confined, and the child was dead.
+Could they take bail for a riot, a dastardly attack by a mob of cowards
+on a poor defenseless woman, the gentlest and most inoffensive creature
+in England? Then he went on: 'They were told I was not in the house;
+and then they found courage to fling stones, to terrify my wife and
+kill my child. Poor soul!' he said, 'she lies between life and death
+herself: and I come here in an agony of fear, but I come for justice;
+the man of straw, who offers bail, is furnished with the money by those
+who stimulated the outrage. Defeat that fraud, and teach these cowards
+who war on defenseless ladies that there is humanity and justice and
+law in the land.' Then Oldfield tried to answer him with his hems and
+his haws; but Bassett turned on him like a giant, and swept him away."
+
+"Poor woman!"
+
+"Ah! that is true: I am afraid I have thought too little of her. But
+you suffer, and so must she. It is the most terrible feud; one would
+think this was Corsica instead of England, only the fighting is not
+done with daggers. But, after this, pray lean no more on that Oldfield.
+We were all carried away at first; but, now I think of it, Bassett must
+have been in the court, and held back to make the climax. Oh, yes! it
+was another surprise and another success. They are all sent to jail.
+Superior generalship! If Wheeler had been our man, we should have had
+eight wives crying for pity, each with one child in her arms, and
+another holding on to her apron. Do, pray, Lady Bassett, dismiss that
+Nullity."
+
+"Oh, I cannot do that; he is Sir Charles's lawyer; but I have promised
+you to seek advice elsewhere, and so I will."
+
+The conversation was interrupted by the tolling of the church-bell.
+
+The first note startled Lady Bassett, and she turned pale.
+
+"I must leave you," said Angelo, regretfully. "I have to bury Mr.
+Bassett's little boy; he lived an hour."
+
+Lady Bassett sat and heard the bell toll.
+
+Strange, sad thoughts passed through her mind. "Is it saddest when it
+tolls, or when it rings--that bell? He has killed his own child by
+robbing me of my husband. We are in the hands of God, after all, let
+Wheeler be ever so cunning, and Oldfield ever so simple.--And I am not
+acting by that.--Where is my trust in God's justice?--Oh, thou of
+little faith!--What shall I do? Love is stronger in me than
+faith--stronger than anything in heaven or earth. God forgive me--God
+help me--I will go back.
+
+"But oh, to stand still, and be good and simple, and to see my husband
+trampled on by a cunning villain!
+
+"Why is there a future state, where everything is to be different? no
+hate; no injustice; all love. Why is it not all of a piece? Why begin
+wrong if it is to end all right? If I was omnipotent it should be right
+from the first.--Oh, thou of little faith!--Ah, me! it is hard to see
+fools and devils, and realize angels unseen. Oh, that I could shut my
+eyes in faith and go to sleep, and drift on the right path; for I shall
+never take it with my eyes open, and my heart bleeding for him."
+
+Then her head fell languidly back, her eyes closed, and the tears
+welled through them: they knew the way by this time.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+NEXT morning in came Mr. Angelo, with glowing cheeks and sparkling
+eyes.
+
+"I have got a letter, a most gratifying one. My friend called on Mr.
+Rolfe, and gave him my lines; and he replies direct to me. May I read
+you his letter?"
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+"'DEAR SIR--The case you have sent me, of a gentleman confined on
+certificates by order of an interested relative--as you presume, for
+you have not seen the order--and on grounds you think insufficient, is
+interesting, and some of it looks true; but there are gaps in the
+statement, and I dare not advise in so nice a matter till these are
+filled; but that, I suspect, can only be done by the lady herself. She
+had better call on me in person; it may be worth her while. At home
+every day, 10--3, this week. As for yourself, you need not address me
+through Greatrex. I have seen you pull No. 6, and afterward stroke in
+the University boat, and you dived in Portsmouth Harbor, and saved a
+sailor. See "Ryde Journal," Aug. 10, p. 4, col. 3; cited in my Day-book
+Aug. 10, and also in my Index hominum, in voce "Angelo"--_ha! ha!
+here's a fellow for detail!_
+
+"Yours very truly,
+
+"'ROLFE.'"
+
+
+
+"And did you?"
+
+"Did I what?"
+
+"Dive and save a sailor."
+
+"No; I nailed him just as he was sinking."
+
+"How good and brave you are!"
+
+Angelo blushed like a girl. "It makes me too happy to hear such words
+from you. But I vote we don't talk about me. Will you call on Mr.
+Rolfe?"
+
+"Is he married?"
+
+Angelo opened his eyes at the question. "I think not," said he.
+"Indeed, I know he is not."
+
+"Could you get him down here?"
+
+Angelo shook his head. "If he knew you, perhaps; but can you expect him
+to come here upon your business? These popular writers are spoiled by
+the ladies. I doubt if he would walk across the street to advise a
+stranger. Candidly, why should he?"
+
+"No; and it was ridiculous vanity to suppose he would. But I never
+called on a gentleman in my life."
+
+"Take me with you. You can go up at nine, and be back to a late
+dinner."
+
+"I shall never have the courage to go. Let me have his letter."
+
+He gave her the letter, and she took it away.
+
+At six o'clock she sent Mary Wells to Mr. Angelo, with a note to say
+she had studied Mr. Rolfe's letter, and there was more in it than she
+had thought; but his going off from her husband to boat-racing seemed
+trivial, and she could not make up her mind to go to London to consult
+a novelist on such a serious matter.
+
+At nine she sent to say she should go, but could not think of dragging
+him there: she should take her maid.
+
+Before eleven, she half repented this resolution, but her maid kept her
+to it; and at half past twelve next day they reached Mr. Rolfe's door;
+an old-fashioned, mean-looking house, in one of the briskest
+thoroughfares of the metropolis; a cabstand opposite to the door, and a
+tide of omnibuses passing it.
+
+Lady Bassett viewed the place discontentedly, and said to herself,
+"What a poky little place for a writer to live in; how noisy, how
+unpoetical!"
+
+They knocked at the door. It was opened by a maid-servant.
+
+"Is Mr. Rolfe at home?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am. Please give me your card, and write the business."
+
+Lady Bassett took out her card and wrote a line or two on the back of
+it. The maid glanced at it, and showed her into a room, while she took
+the card to her master.
+
+The room was rather long, low, and nondescript; scarlet flock paper;
+curtains and sofas green Utrecht velvet; woodwork and pillars white and
+gold; two windows looking on the street; at the other end folding-doors
+with scarcely any wood-work, all plate-glass, but partly hidden by
+heavy curtains of the same color and material as the others. Accustomed
+to large, lofty rooms, Lady Bassett felt herself in a long box here;
+but the colors pleased her. She said to Mary Wells, "What a funny, cozy
+little place for a gentleman to live in!"
+
+Mr. Rolfe was engaged with some one, and she was kept waiting; this was
+quite new to her, and discouraged her, already intimidated by the
+novelty of the situation.
+
+She tried to encourage herself by saying it was for her husband she did
+this unusual thing; but she felt very miserable and inclined to cry.
+
+At last a bell rang; the maid came in and invited Lady Bassett to
+follow her. She opened the glass folding-doors, and took them into a
+small conservatory, walled like a grotto, with ferns sprouting out of
+rocky fissures, and spars sparkling, water dripping. Then she opened
+two more glass folding-doors, and ushered them into an empty room, the
+like of which Lady Bassett had never seen; it was large in itself, and
+multiplied tenfold by great mirrors from floor to ceiling, with no
+frames but a narrow oak beading; opposite her, on entering, was a
+bay-window all plate-glass, the central panes of which opened, like
+doors, upon a pretty little garden that glowed with color, and was
+backed by fine trees belonging to the nation; for this garden ran up to
+the wall of Hyde Park.
+
+The numerous and large mirrors all down to the ground laid hold of the
+garden and the flowers, and by double and treble reflection filled the
+room with delightful nooks of verdure and color.
+
+To confuse the eye still more, a quantity of young India-rubber trees,
+with glossy leaves, were placed before the large central mirror. The
+carpet was a warm velvet-pile, the walls were distempered, a French
+gray, not cold, but with a tint of mauve that gave a warm and cheering
+bloom; this soothing color gave great effect to the one or two
+masterpieces of painting that hung on the walls and to the gilt frames;
+the furniture, oak and marqueterie highly polished; the curtains,
+scarlet merino, through which the sun shone, and, being a London sun,
+diffused a mild rosy tint favorable to female faces. Not a sound of
+London could be heard.
+
+So far the room was romantic; but there was a prosaic corner to shock
+those who fancy that fiction is the spontaneous overflow of a poetic
+fountain fed by nature only; between the fireplace and the window, and
+within a foot or two of the wall, stood a gigantic writing-table, with
+the signs of hard labor on it, and of severe system. Three plated
+buckets, each containing three pints, full of letters to be answered,
+other letters to be pasted into a classified guard-book, loose notes to
+be pasted into various books and classified (for this writer used to
+sneer at the learned men who say, "I will look among my papers for it;"
+he held that every written scrap ought either to be burned, or pasted
+into a classified guard-book, where it could be found by consulting the
+index); five things like bankers' bill-books, into whose several
+compartments MS. notes and newspaper cuttings were thrown, as a
+preliminary toward classification in books.
+
+Underneath the table was a formidable array of note-books, standing
+upright, and labeled on their backs. There were about twenty large
+folios of classified facts, ideas, and pictures--for the very wood-cuts
+were all indexed and classified on the plan of a tradesman's ledger;
+there was also the receipt-book of the year, treated on the same plan.
+Receipts on a file would not do for this romantic creature. If a
+tradesman brought a bill, he must be able to turn to that tradesman's
+name in a book, and prove in a moment whether it had been paid or not.
+Then there was a collection of solid quartos, and of smaller folio
+guard-books called Indexes. There was "Index rerum et journalium"--
+"Index rerum et librorum,"--"Index rerum et hominum," and a lot more;
+indeed, so many that, by way of climax, there was a fat folio ledger
+entitled "Index ad Indices."
+
+By the side of the table were six or seven thick pasteboard cards, each
+about the size of a large portfolio, and on these the author's notes
+and extracts were collected from all his repertories into something
+like a focus for a present purpose. He was writing a novel based on
+facts; facts, incidents, living dialogue, pictures, reflections,
+situations, were all on these cards to choose from, and arranged in
+headed columns; and some portions of the work he was writing on this
+basis of imagination and drudgery lay on the table in two forms, his
+own writing, and his secretary's copy thereof, the latter corrected for
+the press. This copy was half margin, and so provided for additions and
+improvements; but for one addition there were ten excisions, great and
+small. Lady Bassett had just time to take in the beauty and artistic
+character of the place, and to realize the appalling drudgery that
+stamped it a workshop, when the author, who had dashed into his garden
+for a moment's recreation, came to the window, and furnished contrast
+No. 3. For he looked neither like a poet nor a drudge, but a great fat
+country farmer. He was rather tall, very portly, smallish head,
+commonplace features mild brown eye not very bright, short beard, and
+wore a suit of tweed all one color. Such looked the writer of romances
+founded on fact. He rolled up to the window--for, if he looked like a
+farmer, he walked like a sailor--and stepped into the room.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+MR. ROLFE surveyed the two women with a mild, inoffensive, ox-like
+gaze, and invited them to be seated with homely civility.
+
+He sat down at his desk, and turning to Lady Bassett, said, rather
+dreamily, "One moment, please: let me look at the case and my notes."
+
+First his homely appearance, and now a certain languor about his
+manner, discouraged Lady Bassett more than it need; for all artists
+must pay for their excitements with occasional languor. Her hands
+trembled, and she began to gulp and try not to cry.
+
+Mr. Rolfe observed directly, and said, rather kindly, "You are
+agitated; and no wonder."
+
+He then opened a sort of china closet, poured a few drops of a
+colorless liquid from a tiny bottle into a wine-glass, and filled the
+glass with water from a filter. "Drink that, if you please."
+
+She looked at him with her eyes brimming. _"Must_ I?"
+
+"Yes; it will do you good for once in a way. It is only Ignatia."
+
+She drank it by degrees, and a tear along with it that fell into the
+glass.
+
+Meantime Mr. Rolfe had returned to his notes and examined them. He then
+addressed her, half stiffly, half kindly:
+
+"Lady Bassett, whatever may be your husband's condition--whether his
+illness is mental or bodily, or a mixture of the two--his clandestine
+examination by bought physicians, and his violent capture, the natural
+effect of which must have been to excite him and retard his cure, were
+wicked and barbarous acts, contrary to God's law and the common law of
+England, and, indeed, to all human law except our shallow, incautious
+Statutes de Lunatico: they were an insult to yourself, who ought at
+least to have been consulted, for your rights are higher and purer than
+Richard Bassett's; therefore, as a wife bereaved of your husband by
+fraud and violence and the bare letter of a paltry statute whose spirit
+has been violated, you are quite justified in coming to me or to any
+public man you think can help your husband and you." Then, with a
+certain _bonhomie,_ "So lay aside your nervousness; let us go into this
+matter sensibly, like a big man and a little man, or like an old woman
+and a young woman, whichever you prefer."
+
+Lady Bassett looked at him and smiled assent. She felt a great deal
+more at her ease after this opening.
+
+"I dare not advise you yet. I must know more than Mr. Angelo has told
+me. Will you answer my questions frankly?"
+
+"I will try, sir."
+
+"Whose idea was it confining Sir Charles Bassett to the house so much?"
+
+"His own. He felt himself unfit for society."
+
+"Did he describe his ailment to you then?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"All the better; what did he say?"
+
+"He said that, at times, a cloud seemed to come into his head, and then
+he lost all power of mind; and he could not bear to be seen in that
+condition."
+
+"This was after the epileptic seizure?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Humph! Now will you tell me how Mr. Bassett, by mere words, could so
+enrage Sir Charles as to give him a fit?"
+
+Lady Bassett hesitated.
+
+"What did he say to Sir Charles?"
+
+"He did not speak to him. His child and nurse were there, and he called
+out loud, for Sir Charles to hear, and told the nurse to hold up his
+child to look at his inheritance."
+
+"Malicious fool! But did this enrage Sir Charles so much as to give him
+a fit?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He must be very sensitive."
+
+"On that subject."
+
+Mr. Rolfe was silent; and now, for the first time, appeared to think
+intently.
+
+His study bore fruit, apparently; for he turned to Lady Bassett and
+said, suddenly, "What is the strangest thing Sir Charles has said of
+late--the very strangest?"
+
+Lady Bassett turned red, and then pale, and made no reply.
+
+Mr. Rolfe rose and walked up to Mary Wells.
+
+"What is the maddest thing your master has ever said?"
+
+Mary Wells, instead of replying, looked at her mistress.
+
+The writer instantly put his great body between them. "Come, none of
+that," said he. "I don't want a falsehood--I want the truth."
+
+"La, sir, I don't know. My master he is not mad, I'm sure. The queerest
+thing he ever said was--he did say at one time 'twas writ on his face
+as he had no children."
+
+"Ah! And that is why he would not go abroad, perhaps."
+
+"That was one reason, sir, I do suppose." Mr. Rolfe put his hands
+behind his back and walked thoughtfully and rather disconsolately back
+to his seat.
+
+"Humph!" said he. Then, after a pause, "Well, well; I know the worst
+now; that is one comfort. Lady Bassett, you really must be candid with
+me. Consider: good advice is like a tight glove; it fits the
+circumstances, and it does not fit other circumstances. No man advises
+so badly on a false and partial statement as I do, for the very reason
+that my advice is a close fit. Even now I can't understand Sir
+Charles's despair of having children of his own."
+
+The writer then turned his looks on the two women, with an entire
+absence of expression; the sense of his eyes was turned inward, though
+the orbs were directed toward his visitors.
+
+With this lack-luster gaze, and in the tone of thoughtful soliloquy, he
+said, "Has Sir Charles Bassett no eyes? and are there women so furtive,
+so secret, or so bashful, they do not tell their husbands?"
+
+Lady Bassett turned with a scared look to Mary Wells, and that young
+woman showed her usual readiness. She actually came to Mr. Rolfe and
+half whispered to him, "If you please, sir, gentlemen are blind, and my
+lady she is very bashful; but Sir Charles knows it now; he have known
+it a good while; and it was a great comfort to him; he was getting
+better, sir, when the villains took him--ever so much better."
+
+This solution silenced Mr. Rolfe, though it did not quite satisfy him.
+He fastened on Mary Wells's last statement. "Now tell me: between the
+day when those two doctors got into his apartment and the day of his
+capture, how long?"
+
+"About a fortnight."
+
+"And in that particular fortnight was there a marked improvement?"
+
+"La, yes, sir; was there not, my lady?"
+
+"Indeed there was, sir. He was beginning to take walks with me in the
+garden, and rides in an open carriage. He was getting better every day;
+and oh, sir, that is what breaks my heart! I was curing my darling so
+fast, and now they will do all they can to destroy him. Their not
+letting his wife see him terrifies me."
+
+"I think I can explain that. Now tell me--what time do you expect--a
+certain event?"
+
+Lady Bassett blushed and cast a hasty glance at the speaker; but he had
+a piece of paper before him, and was preparing to take down her reply,
+with the innocent face of a man who had asked a simple and necessary
+question in the way of business.
+
+Then Lady Bassett looked at Mary Wells, and this look Mr. Rolfe
+surprised, because he himself looked up to see why the lady hesitated.
+
+After an expressive glance between the mistress and maid, the lady
+said, almost inaudibly, "More than three months;" and then she blushed
+all over.
+
+Mr. Rolfe looked at the two women a moment, and seemed a little puzzled
+at their telegraphing each other on such a subject; but he coolly noted
+down Lady Bassett's reply on a card about the size of a foolscap sheet,
+and then set himself to write on the same card the other facts he had
+elicited.
+
+While he was doing this very slowly, with great care and pains, the
+lady was eying him like a zoologist studying some new animal. The
+simplicity and straightforwardness of his last question won by degrees
+upon her judgment and reconciled her to her Inquisitor, the more so as
+he was quiet but intense, and his whole soul in her case. She began to
+respect his simple straightforwardness, his civility without a grain of
+gallantry, and his caution in eliciting all the facts before he would
+advise.
+
+After he had written down his synopsis, looking all the time as if his
+life depended on its correctness, he leaned back, and his ordinary but
+mobile countenance was transfigured into geniality.
+
+"Come," said he, "grandmamma has pestered you with questions enough;
+now you retort--ask me anything--speak your mind: these things should
+be attacked in every form, and sifted with every sieve."
+
+Lady Bassett hesitated a moment, but at last responded to this
+invitation.
+
+"Sir, one thing that discourages me cruelly--my solicitor seems so
+inferior to Mr. Bassett's. He can think of nothing but objections; and
+so he does nothing, and lets us be trampled on: it is his being unable
+to cope with Mr. Bassett's solicitor, Mr. Wheeler, that has led me in
+my deep distress to trouble you, whom I had not the honor of knowing."
+
+"I understand your ladyship perfectly. Mr. Oldfield is a respectable
+solicitor, and Wheeler is a sharp country practitioner; and--to use my
+favorite Americanism--you feel like fighting with a blunt knife against
+a sharp one."
+
+"That is my feeling, sir, and it drives me almost wild sometimes."
+
+"For your comfort, then, in my earlier litigations--I have had sixteen
+lawsuits for myself and other oppressed people--I had often that very
+impression; but the result always corrected it. Legal battles are like
+other battles: first you have a skirmish or two, and then a great
+battle in court. Now sharp attorneys are very apt to win the skirmish
+and lose the battle. I see a general of this stamp in Mr. Wheeler, and
+you need not fear him much. Of course an antagonist is never to be
+despised; but I would rather have Wheeler against you than Oldfield. An
+honest man like Oldfield blunders into wisdom, the Lord knows how. Your
+Wheelers seldom get beyond cunning; and cunning does not see far enough
+to cope with men of real sagacity and forethought in matters so
+complicated as this. Oldfield, acting for Bassett, would have pushed
+rapidly on to an examination by the court. You would have evaded it,
+and put yourself in the wrong; and the inquiry, well urged, might have
+been adverse to Sir Charles. Wheeler has taken a more cunning and
+violent course--it strikes more terror, does more immediate harm; but
+what does it lead to? Very little; and it disarms them of their
+sharpest weapon, the immediate inquiry; for we could now delay and
+greatly prejudice an inquiry on the very ground of the outrage and
+unnecessary violence; and could demand time to get the patient as well
+as he was before the outrage. And, indeed, the court is very jealous of
+those who begin by going to a judge, and then alter their minds, and
+try to dispose of the case themselves. And to make matters worse, here
+they do it by straining an Act of Parliament opposed to equity."
+
+"I wish it may prove so, sir; but, meantime, Mr. Wheeler is active, Mr.
+Oldfield is passive. He has not an idea. He is a mere negative."
+
+"Ah, that is because he is out of his groove. A smattering of law is
+not enough here. It wants a smattering of human nature too."
+
+"Then, sir, would yon advise me to part with Mr. Oldfield?"
+
+"No. Why make an enemy? Besides, he is the vehicle of communication
+with the other side. You must simply ignore him for a time."
+
+"But is there nothing I can do, sir? for it is this cruel inactivity
+that kills me. Pray advise me--you know all now."
+
+Mr. Rolfe, thus challenged, begged for a moment's delay.
+
+"Let us be silent a minute," said he, "and think hard."
+
+And, to judge by his face, he did think with great intensity.
+
+
+
+"Lady Bassett," said he, very gravely, "I assume that every fact you
+and Mr. Angelo have laid before me is true, and no vital part is kept
+back. Well, then, your present course is--Delay. Not the weak delay of
+those who procrastinate what cannot be avoided; but the wise delay of a
+general who can bring up overpowering forces, only give him time.
+Understand me, there is more than one game on the cards; but I prefer
+the surest. We could begin fighting openly to-morrow; but that would be
+risking too much for too little. The law's delay, the insolence of
+office, the up-hill and thorny way, would hurt Sir Charles's mind at
+present. The apathy, the cruelty, the trickery, the routine, the hot
+and cold fits of hope and fear, would poison your blood, and perhaps
+lose Sir Charles the heir he pines for. Besides, if we give battle
+to-day we fight the heir at law; but in three or four months we may
+have him on our side, and trustees appointed by you. By that time, too,
+Sir Charles will have got over that abominable capture, and be better
+than he was a week ago, constantly soothed and consoled--as he will
+be--by the hope of offspring. When the right time comes, that moment we
+strike, and with a sledge-hammer. No letters to the commissioners then,
+no petitioning Chancery to send a jury into the asylum, stronghold of
+prejudice. I will cut your husband in two. Don't be alarmed. I will
+merely give him, with your help, an _alter ego,_ who shall effect his
+liberation and ruin Richard Bassett--ruin him in damages and costs, and
+drive him out of the country, perhaps. Meantime you are not to be a lay
+figure, or a mere negative."
+
+"Oh, sir, I am so glad of that!"
+
+"Far from that: you will act defensively. Mr. Bassett has one chance;
+you must be the person to extinguish it. Injudicious treatment in the
+asylum might retard Sir Charles's cure; their leeches and their
+sedatives, administered by sucking apothecaries, who reason it _a
+priori,_ instead of watching the effect of these things on the patient,
+might seriously injure your husband, for his disorder is connected with
+a weak circulation of blood in the vessels of the brain. We must
+therefore guard against that at once. To work, then. Who keeps this
+famous asylum?"
+
+"Dr. Suaby."
+
+"Suaby? I know that name. He has been here, I think. I must look in my
+Index rerum et hominum. Suaby? Not down. Try Asyla.--Asyla; 'Suaby: see
+letter-book for the year--, p. 368.' An old letter-book. I must go
+elsewhere for that."
+
+He went out, and after some time returned with a folio letter-book.
+
+"Here are two letters to me from Dr. Suaby, detailing his system and
+inviting me to spend a week at his asylum. Come, come; Sir Charles is
+with a man who does not fear inspection; for at this date I was bitter
+against private asylums--rather indiscriminately so, I fear. Stay! he
+visited me; I thought so. Here's a description of him: 'A pale,
+thoughtful man, with a remarkably mild eye: is against restraint of
+lunatics, and against all punishment of them--Quixotically so. Being
+cross-examined, declares that if a patient gave him a black eye he
+would not let a keeper handle him roughly, being irresponsible.' No
+more would I, if I could give him a good licking myself. Please study
+these two letters closely; you may get a clew how to deal with the
+amiable writer in person."
+
+"Oh, thank you, Mr. Rolfe," said Lady Bassett, flushing all over. She
+was so transported at having something to do. She quietly devoured the
+letters, and after she had read them said a load of fears was now taken
+off her mind.
+
+Mr. Rolfe shook his head. "You must not rely on Dr. Suaby too much. In
+a prison or an asylum each functionary is important in exact proportion
+to his nominal insignificance; and why? Because the greater his nominal
+unimportance the more he comes in actual contact with the patient. The
+theoretical scale runs thus: 1st. The presiding physician. 2d. The
+medical subordinates. 3d. The keepers and nurses. The practical scale
+runs thus: 1st. The keepers and nurses. 2d. The medical attendants. 3d.
+The presiding physician."
+
+"I am glad to hear you say so, sir; for when I went to the asylum, and
+the medical attendant, Mr. Salter, would not let me see my husband. I
+gave his keeper and the nurse a little money to be kind to him in his
+confinement."
+
+"You did! Yet you come here for advice? This is the way: a man
+discourses and argues, and by profound reasoning--that is, by what he
+thinks profound, and it isn't--arrives at the right thing; and lo! a
+woman, with her understanding heart and her hard, good sense, goes and
+does that wise thing humbly, without a word. SURSUM CORDA!--_Cheer up,
+loving heart!"_ shouted he, like the roar of a lion in ecstasies; "you
+have done a masterstroke--without Oldfield, or Rolfe, or any other
+man."
+
+Lady Bassett clasped her hands with joy, and some electric fire seemed
+to run through her veins; for she was all sensibilities, and this
+sudden triumphant roaring out of strong words was quite new to her, and
+carried her away.
+
+"Well," said this eccentric personage, cooling quite as suddenly as he
+had fired, "the only improvement I can suggest is, be a little more
+precise at your next visit. Promise his keepers twenty guineas apiece
+the day Sir Charles is _cured;_ and promise them ten guineas apiece not
+to administer one drop of medicine for the next two months; and, of
+course, no leech nor blister. The cursed sedatives they believe in are
+destruction to Sir Charles Bassett. His circulation must not be made
+too slow one day, and too fast the next, which is the effect of a
+sedative, but made regular by exercise and nourishing food. So, then,
+you will square the keepers by their cupidity; the doctor is on the
+right side _per se._ Shall we rely on these two, and ignore the medical
+attendants? No; why throw a chance away? What is the key to these
+medical attendants? Hum! Try flunkyism. I have great faith in British
+flunkyism. Pay your next visit with four horses, two outriders, and
+blazing liveries. Don't dress in perfect taste like _that;_ go in finer
+clothes than you ever wore in the morning, or ought to wear, except at
+a wedding; go not as a petitioner, but as a queen; and dazzle snobs;
+the which being dazzled, then tickle their vanity: don't speak of Sir
+Charles as an injured man, nor as a man unsound in mind, but a
+gentleman who is rather ill; 'but _now,_ gentlemen, I feel your
+remarkable skill will soon set him right.' Your husband runs that one
+risk; make him safe: a few smiles and a little flattery will do it; and
+if not, why, fight with all a woman's weapons. Don't be too nice: we
+must all hold a candle to the devil once in our lives. A wife's love
+sanctifies a woman's arts in fighting with a villain and disarming
+donkeys."
+
+"Oh, I wish I was there now!"
+
+"You are excited, madam," said he, severely. "That is out of place--in
+a deliberative assembly."
+
+"No, no; only I want to be there, doing all this for my dear husband."
+
+"You are very excited; and it is my fault. You must be hungry too: you
+have come a journey. There will be a reaction, and then you will be
+hysterical. Your temperament is of that kind."
+
+He rang a bell and ordered his maid-servant to bring some beef-wafers
+and a pint of dry Champagne.
+
+Lady Bassett remonstrated, but he told her to be quiet; "for," said he,
+"I have a smattering of medicine, as well as of law and of human
+nature. Sir Charles must correspond with you. Probably he has already
+written you six letters complaining of this monstrous act--a sane man
+incarcerated. Well, that class of letter goes into a letter-box in the
+hall of an asylum, but it never reaches its address. Please take a pen
+and write a formula." He dictated as follows:
+
+
+
+"MY DEAR LOVE--The trifling illness I had when I came here is beginning
+to give way to the skill and attention of the medical gentlemen here.
+They are all most kind and attentive: the place, as it is conducted, is
+a credit to the country."
+
+
+
+Lady Bassett's eyes sparkled. "Oh, Mr. Rolfe, is not this rather
+artful?"
+
+"And is it not artful to put up a letter-box, encourage the writing of
+letters, and then open them, and suppress whatever is disagreeable? May
+every man who opens another man's letter find that letter a trap. Here
+comes your medicine. You never drink champagne in the middle of the
+day, of course?"
+
+"Oh, no."
+
+"Then it will be all the better medicine."
+
+He made both mistress and maid eat the thin slices of beef and drink a
+glass of champagne.
+
+While they were thus fortifying themselves he wrote his address on some
+stamped envelopes, and gave them to Lady Bassett, and told her she had
+better write to him at once if anything occurred. "You must also write
+to me if you really cannot get to see your husband. Then I will come
+down myself, with the public press at my back. But I am sure that will
+not be necessary in Dr. Suaby's asylum. He is a better Christian than I
+am, confound him for it! You went too soon; your husband had been
+agitated by the capture; Suaby was away; Salter had probably applied
+what he imagined to be soothing remedies, leeches--a blister--morphia.
+Result, the patient was so much worse than he was before they touched
+him that Salter was ashamed to let you see him. Having really excited
+him, instead of soothing him, Sawbones Salter had to pretend that _you_
+would excite him. As if creation contained any mineral, drug simple,
+leech, Spanish fly, gadfly, or showerbath, so soothing as a loving wife
+is to a man in affliction. New reading of an old song:
+
+'If the heart of a man is oppressed with cares, It makes him much worse
+when a woman appears.'
+
+"Go to-morrow; you will see him. He will be worse than he was; but not
+much. Somebody will have told him that his wife put him in there--"
+
+"Oh! oh!"
+
+"And he won't have believed it. His father was a Bassett; his mother a
+Le Compton; his great-great-great-grandmother was a Rolfe: there is no
+cur's blood in him. After the first shock he will have found the spirit
+and dignity of a gentleman to sustain adversity: these men of fashion
+are like that; they are better steel than women--and writers."
+
+When he had said this he indicated by his manner that he thought he had
+exhausted the subject, and himself.
+
+Lady Bassett rose and said, "Then, sir, I will take my leave; and oh! I
+am sorry I have not your eloquent pen or your eloquent tongue to thank
+you. You have interested yourself in a stranger--you have brought the
+power of a great mind to bear on our distress. I came here a widow--now
+I feel a wife again. Your good words have warmed my very heart. I can
+only pray God to bless you, sir."
+
+"Pray say no more, madam," said Mr. Rolfe, hastily. "A gentleman cannot
+be always writing lies; an hour or two given to truth and justice is a
+wholesome diversion. At all events, don't thank me till my advice has
+proved worth it."
+
+He rang the bell; the servant came, and showed the way to the street
+door. Mr. Rolfe followed them to the passage only, whence he bowed
+ceremoniously once more to Lady Bassett as she went out.
+
+As she passed into the street she heard a fearful clatter. It was her
+counselor tearing back to his interrupted novel like a distracted
+bullock.
+
+"Well, I don't think much of _he,"_ said Mary Wells.
+
+Lady Bassett was mute to that, and all the journey home very absorbed
+and taciturn, impregnated with ideas she could not have invented, but
+was more able to execute than the inventor. She was absorbed in
+digesting Rolfe's every word, and fixing his map in her mind, and
+filling in details to his outline; so small-talk stung her: she gave
+her companion very short answers, especially when she disparaged Mr.
+Rolfe.
+
+"You couldn't get in a word edgeways," said Mary Wells.
+
+"I went to hear wisdom, and not to chatter."
+
+"He doesn't think small beer of hisself, anyhow."
+
+"How _can_ he, and see other men?"
+
+"Well. I don't think much of him, for my part."
+
+"I dare say the Queen of Sheba's lady's-maid thought Solomon a silly
+thing."
+
+"I don't know; that was afore my time" (rather pertly).
+
+"Of course it was, or you couldn't imitate her."
+
+On reaching home she ordered a light dinner upstairs, and sent
+directions to the coachman and grooms.
+
+At nine next morning the four-in-hand came round, and they started for
+the asylum--coachman and two more in brave liveries; two outriders.
+
+Twenty miles from Huntercombe they changed the wheelers, two fresh
+horses having been sent on at night.
+
+They drove in at the lodge-gate of Bellevue House, which was left
+ostentatiously open, and soon drew up at the hall door, and set many a
+pale face peeping from the upper windows.
+
+The door opened; the respectable servant came out with a respectful
+air.
+
+"Is Mr. Salter at home, sir?"
+
+"No, madam. Mr. Coyne is in charge to-day."
+
+Lady Bassett was glad to hear that, and asked if she might be allowed
+to see Mr. Coyne.
+
+"Certainly, madam. I'll tell him at once," was the reply.
+
+Determined to enter the place, Lady Bassett requested her people to
+open the carriage door, and she was in the act of getting out when Mr.
+Coyne appeared, a little oily, bustling man, with a good-humored,
+vulgar face, liable to a subservient pucker; he wore it directly at
+sight of a fine woman, fine clothes, fine footmen, and fine horses.
+
+"Mr. Coyne, I believe," said Lady Bassett, with a fascinating smile.
+
+"At your service, madam."
+
+"May I have a word in private with you, sir?"
+
+"Certainly, madam."
+
+"We have come a long way. May the horses be fed?"
+
+"I am afraid," said the little man, apologetically, "I must ask you to
+send them to the inn. It is close by."
+
+"By all means." (To one of the outriders:) "You will wait here for
+orders."
+
+Mary Wells had been already instructed to wait in the hall and look out
+sharp for Sir Charles's keeper and nurse, and tell them her ladyship
+wanted to speak to them privately, and it would be money in their way.
+
+Lady Bassett, closeted with Mr. Coyne, began first to congratulate
+herself. "Mr. Bassett," said she, "is no friend of mine, but he has
+done me a kindness in sending Sir Charles here, when he might have sent
+him to some place where he might have been made worse instead of
+better. Here, I conclude, gentlemen of your ability will soon cure his
+trifling disorder, will you not?"
+
+"I have good hopes, your ladyship; he is better to-day."
+
+"Now I dare say you could tell me to a month when he will be cured."
+
+"Oh, your ladyship exaggerates my skill too much."
+
+"Three months?"
+
+"That is a short time to give us; but your ladyship may rely on it we
+will do our best."
+
+"Will you? Then I have no fear of the result. Oh, by-the-by, Dr. Willis
+wanted me to take a message to you, Mr. Coyne. He knows you by
+reputation."
+
+"Indeed! Really I was not aware that my humble--"
+
+"Then you are better known than you in your modesty supposed. Let me
+see: what was the message? Oh, it was a peculiarity in Sir Charles he
+wished you to know. Dr. Willis has attended him from a boy, and he
+wished me to tell you that morphia and other sedatives have some very
+bad effects on him. I told Dr. Willis you would probably find that and
+every thing else out without a hint from him or any one else."
+
+"Yes; but I will make a note of it, for all that."
+
+"That is very kind of you. It will flatter the doctor, the more so as
+he has so high an opinion of you. But now, Mr. Coyne, I suppose if I am
+very good, and promise to soothe him, and not excite him, I may see my
+husband to-day?"
+
+"Certainly, madam. You have an order from the person who--"
+
+"I forgot to bring it with me. I relied on your humanity."
+
+"That is unfortunate. I am afraid I must not--" He hesitated, looked
+very uncomfortable, and said he would consult Mr. Appleton; then,
+suddenly puckering his face into obsequiousness, "Would your ladyship
+like to inspect some of our arrangements for the comfort of our
+patients?"
+
+Lady Bassett would have declined the proposal but for the singular play
+of countenance; she was herself all eye and mind, so she said, gravely,
+"I shall be very happy, sir."
+
+Mr. Coyne then led the way, and showed her a large sitting-room, where
+some ladies were seated at different occupations and amusements: they
+kept more apart from each other than ladies do in general; but this was
+the only sign a far more experienced observer than Lady Bassett could
+have discovered, the nurses having sprung from authoritative into
+unobtrusive positions at the sound of Mr. Coyne's footstep outside.
+
+"What!" said Lady Bassett; "are all these ladies--" She hesitated.
+
+"Every one," said Mr. Coyne; "and some incurably."
+
+"Oh, please let us retire; I have no right to gratify my curiosity.
+Poor things! they don't seem unhappy."
+
+"Unhappy!" said Mr. Coyne. "We don't allow unhappiness here; our doctor
+is too fond of them; he is always contriving something to please them."
+
+At this moment Lady Bassett looked up and saw a woman watching her over
+the rail of a corridor on the first floor. She recognized the face
+directly. The woman made her a rapid signal, and then disappeared into
+one of the rooms.
+
+"Would there be any objection to our going upstairs, Mr. Coyne?" said
+Lady Bassett, with a calm voice and a heart thumping violently.
+
+"Oh, none whatever. I'll conduct you; but then, I am afraid I must
+leave you for a time."
+
+He showed her upstairs, blew a whistle, handed her over to an
+attendant, and bowed and smiled himself away grotesquely.
+
+Jones was the very keeper she had feed last visit. She flushed with joy
+at sight of bull-necked, burly Jones. "Oh, Mr. Jones!" said she,
+putting her hands together with a look that might have melted a
+hangman.
+
+Jones winked, and watched Mr. Coyne out of sight.
+
+"I have seen your ladyship's maid," said Jones, confidentially. "It is
+all right. Mr. Coyne have got the blinkers on. Only pass me your word
+not to excite him."
+
+"Oh no, sir, I will soothe him." And she trembled all over.
+
+"Sally!" cried Jones.
+
+The nurse came out of a room and held the door ajar; she whispered, "I
+have prepared him, madam; he is all right."
+
+Lady Bassett, by a great effort, kept her feet from rushing, her heart
+from crying out with joy, and she entered the room. Sally closed the
+door like a shot, with a delicacy one would hardly have given her
+credit for, to judge from appearances.
+
+Sir Charles stood in the middle of the room, beaming to receive her,
+but restraining himself. They met: he held her to his heart; she wept
+for joy and grief upon his neck. Neither spoke for a long time.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+THEY were seated hand in hand, comparing notes and comforting each
+other. Then Lady Bassett met with a great surprise: forgetting, or
+rather not realizing, Sir Charles's sex and character, she began with a
+heavy heart to play the consoler; but after he had embraced her many
+times with tender rapture, and thanked God for the sight of her, lo and
+behold, this doughty baronet claimed his rights of manhood, and, in
+spite of his capture, his incarceration, and his malady, set to work to
+console her, instead of lying down to be consoled.
+
+"My darling Bella," said he, "don't you make a mountain of a mole-hill.
+The moment you told me I should be a father I began to get better, and
+to laugh at Richard Bassett's malice. Of course I was terribly knocked
+over at first by being captured like a felon and clapped under lock and
+key; but I am getting over that. My head gets muddled once a day, that
+is all. They gave me some poison the first day that made me drunk
+twelve hours after; but they have not repeated it."
+
+"Oh!" cried Lady Bassett, "then don't let me lose a moment. How could I
+forget?" She opened the door, and called in Mr. Jones and the nurse.
+
+"Mr. Jones," said she, "the first day my husband came here Mr. Salter
+gave him a sedative, or something, and it made him much worse."
+
+"It always do make 'em worse," said Jones, bluntly.
+
+"Then why did he give it?"
+
+"Out o' book, ma'am. His sort don't see how the medicines work; but we
+do, as are always about the patient."
+
+"Mr. Jones," said Lady Bassett, "if Mr. Salter, or anybody, prescribes,
+it is you who _administer_ the medicine."
+
+Jones assented with a wink. Winking was his foible, as puckering of the
+face was Coyne's.
+
+"Should you be offended if I were to offer you and the nurse ten
+guineas a month to pretend you had given him Mr. Salter's medicines,
+and not do it?"
+
+"Oh, that is not much to do for a gentleman like Sir Charles," said
+Jones. "But I didn't ought to take so much money for that. To be sure,
+I suppose, the lady won't miss it."
+
+"Don't be a donkey, Jones," said Sir Charles, cutting short his
+hypocrisy. "Take whatever you can get; only earn it."
+
+"Oh, what I takes I earns."
+
+"Of course," said Sir Charles. "So that is settled. You have got to
+physic those flower-pots instead of me, that is all."
+
+This view of things tickled Jones so that he roared with laughter.
+However, he recollected himself all of a sudden, and stopped with
+ludicrous abruptness.
+
+He said to Lady Bassett, with homely kindness, "You go home
+comfortable, my lady; you have taken the stick by the right end." He
+then had the good sense to retire from the room.
+
+Then Lady Bassett told Sir Charles of her visit to London, and her
+calling on Mr. Rolfe.
+
+He looked blank at his wife calling on a bachelor; but her description
+of the man, his age, and his simplicity, reconciled him to that; and
+when she told him the plan and order of campaign Mr. Rolfe had given
+her he approved it very earnestly.
+
+He fastened in particular on something that Mr. Rolfe had dwelt lightly
+on. "Dear as the sight of you is to me, sweet as the sound of your
+loved voice is to my ears and my heart, I would rather not see you
+again until our hopes are realized than jeopardize _that."_
+
+Lady Bassett sighed, for this seemed rather morbid. Sir Charles went
+on: "So think of your own health first, and avoid agitations. I am
+tormented with fear lest that monster should take advantage of my
+absence to molest you. If he does, leave Huntercombe. Yes, leave it; go
+to London; go, even for my sake; my health and happiness depend on you;
+they cannot be much affected by anything that happens here. 'Stone
+walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage.'"
+
+Lady Bassett promised, but said she could not keep away from him, and
+he must often write to her. She gave him Rolfe's formula, and told him
+all letters would pass that praised the asylum.
+
+Sir Charles made a wry face.
+
+Lady Bassett's wrist went round his neck in a moment. "Oh, Charles,
+dear, for my sake--hold a little, little candle to the devil. Mr. Rolfe
+says we must. Oblige me in this--I am not so noble as you--and then
+I'll be very good and obedient in what your heart is set upon."
+
+At last Sir Charles consented.
+
+Then they made haste, and told each other everything that had happened,
+and it was late in the afternoon before they parted.
+
+Lady Bassett controlled her tears at parting as well as she could.
+
+Mr. Coyne had slyly hid himself, but emerged when she came down to the
+carriage, and she shook him warmly by the hand, and he bowed at the
+door incessantly, with his face all in a pucker, till the cavalcade
+dashed away.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+LADY BASSETT timed her next visit so that she found Dr. Suaby at home.
+
+He received her kindly, and showed himself a master; told her Sir
+Charles's was a mixed case, in which the fall, the fit, and a morbid
+desire for offspring had all played their parts.
+
+He hoped a speedy cure, but said he counted on her assistance. There
+was no doubt what he meant.
+
+Oh, for one thing, he said to her, rather slyly, "Coyne tells me you
+have been good enough to supply us with a hint as to his treatment;
+sedatives are opposed to his idiosyncrasy."
+
+Lady Bassett blushed high, and said something about Dr. Willis.
+
+"Oh, you are quite right, you and Dr. Willis; only you are not so very
+conversant with that idiosyncrasy. Why have you let him smoke twenty
+cigars every day of his life? the brain is accessible by other roads
+than the stomach. Well, we have got him down to four cigars, and in a
+month we will have him down to two. The effect of that, and exercise,
+and simple food, and the absence of powerful excitements--you will see.
+Do your part," said he, gayly, "we will do ours. He is the most
+interesting patient in the house, and born to adorn society, though by
+a concurrence of unhappy circumstances he is separated from it for a
+while."
+
+She spent the whole afternoon with Sir Charles, and they dined together
+at the doctor's private table, with one or two patients who were
+touched, but showed no signs of it on that occasion; for the good
+doctor really acted like oil on the troubled waters.
+
+Sir Charles and Lady Bassett corresponded, and so kept their hearts up;
+but after Rolfe's hint the correspondence was rather guarded. If these
+letters were read in the asylum the curious would learn that Sir
+Charles was far more anxious about his wife's condition than his own;
+but that these two patient persons were only waiting a certain near
+event to attack Richard Bassett with accumulated fury--that smoldering
+fire did not smoke by letter, but burned deep in both their sore and
+heavy, but enduring, Anglo-Saxon hearts.
+
+Lady Bassett wrote to Mr. Rolfe, thanking him again for his advice, and
+telling him how it worked.
+
+She had a very short reply from that gentleman.
+
+But about six weeks after her visit he surprised her a little by
+writing of his own accord, and asking her for a formal introduction to
+Sir Charles Bassett, and begging her to back a request that Sir Charles
+would devote a leisure hour or two to correspondence with him. "Not,"
+said he, "on his private affairs, but on a matter of general interest.
+I want a few of his experiences and observations in that place. I have
+the less scruple in asking it, that whatever takes him out of himself
+will be salutary."
+
+Lady Bassett sent him the required introduction in such terms that Sir
+Charles at once consented to oblige his wife by obliging Mr. Rolfe.
+
+
+
+"My DEAR SIR--In compliance with your wish, and Lady Bassett's, I send
+you a few desultory remarks on what I see here.
+
+"1st. The lines,
+
+'Great wits to madness nearly are allied, And thin partitions do their
+bonds divide,'
+
+are, in my opinion, exaggerated and untrue. Taking the people here as a
+guide, the insane in general appear to be people with very little
+brains, and enormous egotism.
+
+"My next observation is, that the women have far less imagination than
+the men; they cannot even realize their own favorite delusions. For
+instance, here are two young ladies, the Virgin Mary and the Queen of
+England. How do they play their parts? They sit aloof from all the
+rest, with their noses in the air. But gauge their imaginations; go
+down on one knee, or both, and address them as a saint and a queen;
+they cannot say a word in accordance; yet they are cunning enough to
+see they cannot reply in character, so they will not utter a syllable
+to their adorers. They are like the shop-boys who go to a masquerade as
+Burleigh or Walsingham, and when you ask them who is Queen Bess's
+favorite just now, blush, and look offended, and pass sulkily on.
+
+"The same class of male lunatics can speak in character; and this
+observation has made me doubt whether philosophers are not mistaken in
+saying that women generally have more imagination than men. I suspect
+they have infinitely less; and I believe their great love of novels,
+which has been set down to imagination, arises mainly from their want
+of it. You writers of novels supply that defect for them by a pictorial
+style, by an infinity of minute details, and petty aids to realizing,
+all which an imaginative reader can do for himself on reading a bare
+narrative of sterling facts and incidents.
+
+"I find a monotony in madness. So many have inspirations, see phantoms,
+are the victims of vast conspiracies (principalities and powers
+combined against a fly); their food is poisoned, their wine is drugged,
+etc., etc.
+
+"These, I think, are all forms of that morbid egotism which is at the
+bottom of insanity. So is their antipathy for each other. They keep
+apart, because a madman is all self, and his talk is all self; thus
+egotisms, clash, and an antipathy arises; yet it is not, I think, pure
+antipathy, though so regarded, but a mere form of their boundless
+egotism.
+
+"If, in visiting an asylum, you see two or three different patients
+buttonhole a fourth and pour their grievances into a listening ear, you
+may safely suspect No. 4 of--sanity.
+
+"On the whole, I think the doctor himself, and one of his attendants,
+and Jones, a keeper, have more solid eccentricity and variety about
+them than most of the patients."
+
+
+
+Extract from Letter 2, written about a fortnight later:
+
+
+
+"Some insane persons have a way of couching their nonsense in language
+that sounds rational, and has a false air of logical connection. Their
+periods seem stolen from sensible books, and forcibly fitted to
+incongruous bosh. By this means the ear is confused, and a slow hearer
+might fancy he was listening to sense.
+
+"I have secured you one example of this. You must know that, in the
+evening, I sometimes collect a few together, and try to get them to
+tell their stories. Little comes of it in general but interruptions.
+But, one night, a melancholy Bagman responded in good set terms, and
+all in a moment; one would have thought I had put a torch to a barrel
+of powder, he went off so quickly, in this style:
+
+"'You ask my story: it is briefly told. Initiated in commerce from my
+earliest years, and traveled in the cotton trade. As representative of
+a large house in Manchester, I visited the United States.
+
+"'Unfortunately for me, that country was then the chosen abode of
+spirits; the very air was thick and humming with supernaturalia. Ere
+long spirit-voices whispered in my ear, and suggested pious aspirations
+at first. That was a blind, no doubt; for very soon they went on to
+insinuate things profane and indelicate, and urged me to deliver them
+in mixed companies; I forbore with difficulty, restrained by the early
+lessons of a pious mother, and a disinclination to be kicked
+downstairs, or flung out o' window.
+
+"'I consulted a friend, a native of the country; he said, in its
+beautiful Doric, "Old oss, I reckon you'd better change the air." I
+grasped his hand, muttered a blessing, and sailed for England.
+
+"'On ocean's peaceful bosom the annoyance ceased. But under this
+deceitful calm fresh dangers brooded. Two doctors had stolen into the
+ship, unseen by human eye, and bided their time. Unable to act at sea,
+owing to the combined effect of wind and current, they concealed
+themselves on deck under a black tarpaulin--that is to say, it had been
+black, but wind and weather had reduced it to a dirty brown--and there,
+adopting for the occasion the habits of the dormouse, the bear, the
+caterpillar, and other ephemeral productions, they lay torpid. But the
+moment the vessel touched the quay, profiting by the commotion, they
+emerged, and signed certificates with chalk on my portmanteau; then
+vanished in the crowd. The Custom-house read the certificates, and
+seized my luggage as contraband. I was too old a traveler to leave my
+luggage; so then they seized me, and sent us both down here. (With
+sudden and short-lived fury) that old hell-hound at the Lodge asked
+them where I was booked for. "For the whole journey," said a sepulchral
+voice unseen. That means the grave, my boys, the silent grave.'
+
+"Notwithstanding this stern decree, Suaby expects to turn him out cured
+in a few months.
+
+"Miss Wieland, a very pretty girl, put her arm in mine, and drew me
+mysteriously apart. 'So you are collecting the villainies,' said she,
+sotto voce. 'It will take you all your time. I'll tell you mine.
+There's a hideous old man wants me to marry him; and I won't. And he
+has put me in here, and keeps me prisoner till I will. They are all on
+his side, especially that sanctified old guy, Suaby. They drug my wine,
+they stupefy me, they give me things to make me naughty and tipsy; but
+it is no use; I never will marry that old goat--that for his money and
+him--I'll die first.'
+
+"Of course my blood boiled; but I asked my nurse, Sally, and she
+assured me there was not one atom of truth in any part of the story.
+'The young lady was put in here by her mother; none too soon, neither.'
+I asked her what she meant. 'Why, she came here with her throat cut,
+and strapping on it. She is a suicidal.'"
+
+
+
+This correspondence led eventually to some unexpected results; but I am
+obliged to interrupt it for a time, while I deal with a distinct series
+of events which began about five weeks after Lady Bassett's visit to
+Mr. Rolfe, and will carry the reader forward beyond the date we have
+now arrived at.
+
+It was the little dining-room at Highmore; a low room, of modest size,
+plainly furnished. An enormous fire-place, paved with plain tiles, on
+which were placed iron dogs; only wood and roots were burned in this
+room.
+
+Mrs. Bassett had just been packed off to bed by marital authority;
+Bassett and Wheeler sat smoking pipes and sipping whisky-and-water.
+Bassett professed to like the smell of peat smoke in whisky; what he
+really liked was the price.
+
+After a few silent whiffs, said Bassett, "I didn't think they would
+take it so quietly; did you?"
+
+"Well, I really did not. But, after all, what can they do? They are
+evidently afraid to go to the Court of Chancery, and ask for a jury in
+the asylum; and what else can they do?"
+
+"Humph! They might arrange an escape, and hide him for fourteen days;
+then we could not recapture him without fresh certificates; could we?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"And the doors would be too well guarded; not a crack for two doctors
+to creep in at."
+
+"You go too fast. _You_ know the law from me, and you are a daring man
+that would try this sort of thing; but a timid woman, advised by a
+respectable muff like Oldfield! They will never dream of such a thing."
+
+"Oldfield is not her head-man. She has got another adviser, and he is
+the very man to do something plucky."
+
+"I don't know who you mean."
+
+"Why, her lover, to be sure."
+
+"Her lover? Lady Bassett's lover!"
+
+"Ay, the young parson."
+
+Wheeler smiled satirically. "You certainly are a good hater. Nothing is
+too bad for those you don't like. If that Lady Bassett is not a true
+wife, where will you find one?"
+
+"She is the most deceitful jade in England."
+
+"Oh! oh!"
+
+"Ah! you may sneer. So you have forgotten how she outwitted us. Did the
+devil himself ever do a cunninger thing than that? tempting a fellow
+into a correspondence that seemed a piece of folly on her part, yet it
+was a deep diabolical trick to get at my handwriting. Did _you_ see her
+game? No more than I did. You chuckled at her writing letters to the
+plaintiff _pendente lite._ We were both children, setting our wits
+against a woman's. I tell you I dread her, especially when I see her so
+unnaturally quiet, after what we have done. When you hook a large
+salmon, and he makes a great commotion, but all of a sudden lies like a
+stone, be on your guard; he means mischief."
+
+"Well," said Wheeler, "this is all very true, but you have strayed from
+the point. What makes you think she has an improper attachment?"
+
+"Is it so very unnatural? He is the handsomest fellow about, she is the
+loveliest woman; he is dark, she is fair; and they are thrown together
+by circumstances. Another thing: I have always understood that women
+admire the qualities they don't possess themselves--strength, for
+instance. Now this parson is a Hercules. He took Sir Charles up like a
+boy and carried him in his arms all the way from where he had the fit.
+Lady Bassett walked beside them. Rely on it, a woman does not see one
+man carry another so without making a comparison in favor of the
+strong, and against the weak. But what am I talking about? They walk
+like lovers, those two."
+
+"What, hand in hand? he! he!"
+
+"No, side by side; but yet like lovers for all that."
+
+"You must have a good eye."
+
+"I have a good opera-glass."
+
+Mr. Wheeler smoked in silence.
+
+"Well, but," said he, after a pause, "if this is so, all the better for
+you. Don't you see that the lover will never really help her to get the
+husband out of confinement? It is not in the nature of things. He may
+struggle with his own conscience a bit, being a clergyman, but he won't
+go too far; he won't break the law to get Sir Charles home, and so end
+these charming duets with his lady-love."
+
+"By Jove, you are right!" cried Bassett, convinced in his turn. "I say,
+old fellow, two heads are better than one. I think we have got the
+clew, between us. Yes, by Heaven! it is so; for the carriage used to be
+out twice a week, but now she only goes about once in ten days.
+By-and-by it will be once a fortnight, then once a month, and the
+black-eyed rector will preach patience and resignation. Oh, it was a
+master-stroke, clapping him in that asylum! All we have got to do now
+is to let well alone. When she is over head and ears in love with
+Angelo she will come to easy terms with us, and so I'll move across the
+way. I shall never be happy till I live at Huntercombe, and administer
+the estate."
+
+The maid-servant brought him a note, and said it was from her mistress.
+Bassett took it rather contemptuously, and said, "The little woman is
+always in a fidget now when you come here. She is all for peace." He
+read the letter. It ran thus:
+
+
+
+"DEAREST RICHARD--I implore you to do nothing more to hurt Sir Charles.
+It is wicked, and it is useless. God has had pity on Lady Bassett, and
+have you pity on her too. Jane has just heard it from one of the
+Huntercombe servants."
+
+
+
+"What does she mean with her 'its'? Why, surely--Read it, you."
+
+They looked at each other in doubt and amazement for some time. Then
+Richard Bassett rushed upstairs, and had a few hasty words with his
+wife.
+
+She told him her news in plainer English, and renewed her mild
+entreaties. He turned his back on her in the middle. He went out into
+the nursery, and looked at his child. The little fellow, a beautiful
+boy, slept the placid sleep of infancy. He leaned over him and kissed
+him, and went down to the dining-room.
+
+His feet came tramp, tramp, very slowly, and when he opened the door
+Mr. Wheeler was startled at the change in his appearance. He was pale,
+and his countenance fallen.
+
+"Why, what is the matter?" said Wheeler.
+
+"She has done us. Ah, I was wiser than you; I feared her. It is the
+same thing over again; a woman against two children. This shows how
+strong she is; you can't realize what she has done--even when you see
+it. An heir was wanted to those estates. Love cried out for one. Hate
+cried out for one. Nature denied one. She has cut the Gordian knot; cut
+it as boldly as the lowest woman in Huntercombe would have cut it under
+such a terrible temptation."
+
+"Oh, for shame!"
+
+"Think, and use your eyes."
+
+"My eyes have seen the lady; I think I see her now, kneeling like an
+angel over her husband, and pitying him for having knocked me down. I
+say her only lover is her husband."
+
+"Oh, that was a long time ago. Time brings changes. You can't take the
+eyes out of my head."
+
+"Suppose it should be only a false alarm?"
+
+"Is that likely? However, I will learn. Whether it is or not, that
+child shall never rob mine of Bassett and Huntercombe. Anything is fair
+against such a woman."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+THAT very night, after Wheeler had gone home, Richard Bassett wrote a
+cajoling letter to Mary Wells, asking her to meet him at the old place.
+
+When the girl got this letter she felt a little faint for a moment; but
+she knew the man, his treachery, and his hard egotism and selfishness
+so well, that she tossed the letter aside, and resolved to take no
+notice. Her trust was all in her mistress, for whom, indeed, she had
+more real affection than for any living creature; as for Richard
+Bassett she absolutely detested him.
+
+As the day wore on she took another view of matters: her deceiver was
+the enemy of her mistress; she might do her a service by going to this
+rendezvous, might learn something from him, and use it against him.
+
+So she went to the rendezvous with a heart full of bitter hate.
+
+Bassett, with all his assurance, could not begin his interrogatory all
+in a moment. He made a sort of apology, said he felt he had been
+unkind, and he had never been happy since he had deserted her.
+
+She cut that short. "I have found a better than you," said she. "I am
+going to London very soon--to be married."
+
+"I am glad to hear it."
+
+"No doubt you are."
+
+"I mean for your sake."
+
+"For my sake? You think as little of me as I do of you. Come, now, what
+do you want of me--without a lie, if you _can?"_
+
+"I wanted to see you, and talk to you, and hear your prospects."
+
+"Well, I have told you." And she pretended to be going.
+
+"Don't be in such a hurry. Tell us the news. Is it true that Lady
+Bassett is expected--"
+
+"Oh, that is no news."
+
+"It is to me."
+
+"'Tain't no news in our house. Why, we have known it for months."
+
+This took away the man's breath for a minute.
+
+At last he said, with a great deal of intention:
+
+"Will it be fair or dark?"
+
+"As God pleases."
+
+"I'll bet you five pounds to one that it is dark."
+
+Mary shrugged her shoulders contemptuously, as if these speculations
+were too childish for her.
+
+"It's my lady you want to talk about, is it? I thought it was to make
+me a wedding present."
+
+He actually put his hand in his pocket and gave her two sovereigns. She
+took them with a grim smile.
+
+He presumed on this to question her minutely.
+
+She submitted to the interrogatory.
+
+Only, as the questions were not always delicate, and the answer was
+invariably an untruth, it may be as well to pass over the rest of the
+dialogue. Suffice it to say that, whenever the girl saw the drift of a
+question she lied admirably; and when she did not, still she lied upon
+principle: it must be a good thing to deceive the enemy.
+
+
+
+Richard Bassett was now perplexed, and saw himself in that very
+position which had so galled Lady Bassett six weeks or so before. He
+could not make any advantageous move, but was obliged to await events.
+All he could do was to spy a little on Lady Bassett, and note how often
+she went to the asylum.
+
+After many days' watching he saw something new.
+
+Mr. Angelo was speaking to her with a good deal of warmth, when
+suddenly she started from him, and then turned round upon him in a very
+commanding attitude, and with prodigious fire. Angelo seemed then to
+address her very humbly. But she remained rigid. At last Angelo retired
+and left her so; but he was no sooner out of sight than she dropped
+into a garden seat, and, taking out her handkerchief, cried a long
+time.
+
+"Why doesn't the fool come back?" said Bassett, from his tower of
+observation.
+
+He related this incident to Wheeler, and it impressed that worthy more
+than all he had ever said before on the same subject. But in a day or
+two Wheeler, who was a great gossip, and picked up every thing, came
+and told Bassett that the parson was looking out for a curate, and
+going to leave his living for a time, on the ground of health. "That is
+rather against your theory, Mr. Bassett," said he.
+
+"Not a bit," said Bassett. "On the contrary, that is just what these
+artful women do who sacrifice virtue but cling all the more to
+reputation. I read French novels, my boy."
+
+"Find 'em instructive?"
+
+"Very. They cut deeper into human nature than our writers dare. Her
+turning away her lover _now_ is just the act of what the French call a
+masterly woman--_maitresse femme._ She has got rid of him to close the
+mouth of scandal; that is her game."
+
+"Well," said Wheeler, "you certainly are very ingenious, and so
+fortified in your opinions that with you facts are no longer stubborn
+things; you can twist them all your way. If he had stayed and buzzed
+about her, while her husband was incarcerated, you would have found her
+guilty: he goes to Rome and leaves her, and therefore you find her
+guilty. You would have made a fine hanging judge in the good old
+sanguinary times."
+
+"I use my eyes, my memory, and my reason. She is a monster of vice and
+deceit. Anything is fair against such a woman."
+
+"I am sorry to hear you say that," said Wheeler, becoming grave rather
+suddenly. "A woman is a woman, and I tell you plainly I have gone
+pretty well to the end of my tether with you."
+
+"Abandon me, then," said Bassett, doggedly; "I can go alone."
+
+Wheeler was touched by this, and said, "No, no; I am not the man to
+desert a friend; but pray do nothing rash--do nothing without
+consulting me."
+
+Bassett made no reply.
+
+About a week after this, as Lady Bassett was walking sadly in her own
+garden, a great Newfoundland dog ran up to her without any warning, and
+put his paws almost on her shoulder.
+
+She screamed violently, and more than once.
+
+One or two windows flew open, and among the women who put their heads
+out to see what was the matter, Mary Wells was the first.
+
+The owner of the dog instantly whistled, and the sportive animal ran to
+him; but Lady Bassett was a good deal scared, and went in holding her
+hand to her side. Mary Wells hurried to her assistance, and she cried a
+little from nervousness when the young woman came earnestly to her.
+
+"Oh, Mary! he frightened me so. I did not see him coming."
+
+"Mr. Moss," said Mary Wells, "here's a villain come and frightened my
+lady. Go and shoot his dog, you and your son; and get the grooms, and
+fling him in the horse-pond directly."
+
+"No!" said Lady Bassett, firmly. "You will see that he does not enter
+the house, that is all. Should he attempt that, then you will use force
+for my protection. Mary, come to my room."
+
+When they were together alone Lady Bassett put both hands on the girl's
+shoulders, and made her turn toward her.
+
+"I think you love me, Mary?" said she, drinking the girl's eyes with
+her own.
+
+"Ah! that I do, my lady."
+
+"Why did you look so pale, and your eyes flash, and why did you incite
+those poor men to--It might have led to bloodshed."
+
+"It would; and that is what I wanted, my lady!"
+
+"Oh, Mary!"
+
+"What, don't you see?"
+
+"No, no; I don't want to think so. It might have been an accident. The
+poor dog meant no harm; it was his way of fawning, that was all."
+
+"The beast meant no harm, but the man did. He is worse than any beast
+that ever was born; he is a cruel, cunning, selfish devil; and if I had
+been a man he should never have got off alive."
+
+"But are you sure?"
+
+"Quite. I was upstairs, and saw it all."
+
+This was not true; she had seen nothing till her mistress screamed.
+
+"Then--anything is fair against such a villain."
+
+"Of course it is."
+
+"Let me think."
+
+She leaned her head upon her hand, and that intelligent face of hers
+quite shone with hard thought.
+
+At last, after long and intense thinking, she spoke.
+
+"I'll teach you to be inhuman, Mr. Richard Bassett," said she, slowly,
+and with a strange depth of resolution.
+
+Then Mary Wells and she put their heads together in close discussion;
+but now Lady Bassett took the lead, and revealed to her astonished
+adviser extraordinary and astounding qualities.
+
+They had driven her to bay, and that is a perilous game to play with
+such a woman.
+
+Mary Wells found herself a child compared with her mistress, now that
+that lady was driven to put out all her powers.
+
+The conversation lasted about two hours: in that time the whole
+campaign was settled.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+MARY WELLS by order went down, in a loose morning wrapper her mistress
+had given her, and dined in the servants' hall. She was welcomed with a
+sort of shout, half ironical; and the chief butler said,
+
+"Glad to see you come back to us, Miss Wells."
+
+"The same to you, sir," said Mary, with more pertness than logic;
+"which I'm only come to take leave, for to-morrow I go to London, on
+business."
+
+"La! what's the business, I wonder?" inquired a house-maid,
+irreverentially.
+
+"Well, my business is not your business, Jane. However, if you want to
+know, I'm going to be married."
+
+"And none too soon," whispered the kitchen-maid to a footman.
+
+"Speak up, my dear," said Mary. "There's nothing more vulgarer than
+whispering in company."
+
+"I said, 'What will Bill Drake say to that?'"
+
+"Bill Drake will say he was a goose not to make up his mind quicker.
+This will learn him beauty won't wait for no man. If he cries when I am
+gone, you lend him your apron to wipe his eyes, and tell him women
+can't abide shilly-shallying men."
+
+"That's a hexcellent sentiment," said John the footman, "and a solemn
+warning it is--"
+
+"To all such as footmen be," said Mary.
+
+"We writes it in the fly-leaf of our Bibles accordingly," said John.
+
+"No, my man, write it somewhere where you'll have a chance to read it."
+
+This caused a laugh; and when it was over, the butler, who did not feel
+strong enough to chaff a lady of this caliber, inquired obsequiously
+whether he might venture to ask who was the happy stranger to carry off
+such a prize.
+
+"A civil question deserves a civil answer, Mr. Wright," said Mary. "It
+is a sea-faring man, the mate of a ship. He have known me a few years
+longer than any man in these parts. Whenever he comes home from a
+voyage he tells me what he has made, and asks me to marry him. I have
+said 'No' so many times I'm sick and tired; so I have said 'Yes' for
+once in a way. Changes are lightsome, you know."
+
+Thus airily did Mary Wells communicate her prospects, and next morning
+early was driven to the station; a cart had gone before with her
+luggage, which tormented the female servants terribly; for, instead of
+the droll little servant's box, covered with paper, she had a large
+lady's box, filled with linen and clothes by the liberality of Lady
+Bassett, and a covered basket, and an old carpet-bag, with some minor
+packages of an unintelligible character. Nor did she make any secret
+that she had money in both pockets; indeed, she flaunted some notes
+before the groom, and told him none but her lady knew all she had done
+for Sir Charles. "But," said she, "he is grateful, you see, and so is
+she."
+
+She went off in the train, as gay as a lark; but she was no sooner out
+of sight than her face changed its whole expression, and she went up to
+London very grave and thoughtful.
+
+The traveling carriage was ordered at ten o'clock next day, and packed
+as for a journey.
+
+Lady Bassett took her housekeeper with her to the asylum.
+
+She had an interview with Sir Charles, and told him what Mr. Bassett
+had done, and the construction Mary Wells had put on it.
+
+Sir Charles turned pale with rage, and said he could no longer play the
+patient game. He must bribe a keeper, make his escape, and kill that
+villain.
+
+Lady Bassett was alarmed, and calmed it down.
+
+"It was only a servant's construction, and she might be wrong; but it
+frightened me terribly; and I fear it is the beginning of a series of
+annoyances and encroachments; and I have lost Mr. Angelo; he has gone
+to Italy. Even Mary Wells left me this morning to be married. I think I
+know a way to turn all this against Mr. Bassett; but I will not say it,
+because I want to hear what you advise, dearest."
+
+Sir Charles did not leave her long in doubt. He said, "There is but one
+way; you must leave Huntercombe, and put yourself out of that
+miscreant's way until our child is born."
+
+"That would not grieve me," said Lady Bassett. "The place is odious to
+me, now you are not there. But what would censorious people say?"
+
+"What could they say, except that you obeyed your husband?"
+
+"Is it a command, then, dearest?"
+
+"It is a command; and, although you are free, and I am a
+prisoner--although you are still an ornament to society, and I pass for
+an outcast, still I expect you to obey me when I assume a husband's
+authority. I have not taken the command of you quite so much as you
+used to say I must; but on this occasion I do. You will leave
+Huntercombe, and avoid that caitiff until our child is born."
+
+"That ends all discussion," said Lady Bassett. "Oh, Charles, my only
+regret is that it costs me nothing to obey you. But when did it ever?
+My king!"
+
+He had ordered her to do the very thing she wished to do.
+
+She now gave her housekeeper minute instructions, settled the board
+wages of the whole establishment, and sent her home in the carriage,
+retaining her own boxes and packages at the inn.
+
+
+
+Richard Bassett soon found out that Lady Bassett had left Huntercombe.
+He called on Wheeler and told him. Wheeler suggested she had gone to be
+near her husband.
+
+"No," said Bassett, "she has joined her lover. I wonder at our
+simplicity in believing that fellow was gone to Italy."
+
+"This is rich," said Wheeler. "A week ago she was guilty, and a
+Machiavel in petticoats; for why? she had quarreled with her Angelo,
+and packed him off to Italy. Now she is guilty; and why? because he is
+not gone to Italy--not that you know whether he is or not. You reason
+like a mule. As for me, I believe none of this nonsense--till you find
+them together."
+
+"And that is just what I mean to do."
+
+"We shall see."
+
+"You will see."
+
+Very soon after this a country gentleman met Wheeler on market-day, and
+drew him aside to ask him a question. "Do you advise Mr. Richard
+Bassett still?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did you set him to trespass on Lady Bassett's lawn, and frighten her
+with a great dog in the present state of her health?"
+
+"Heaven forbid! This is the first I've heard of such a thing."
+
+"I am glad to hear you say that, Tom Wheeler. There, read that. Your
+client deserves to be flogged out of the county, sir." And he pulled a
+printed paper out of his pocket. It was dated from the Royal Hotel,
+Bath, and had been printed with blanks, as follows; but a lady's hand
+had filled in the dates.
+
+"On the day ---- of ----, while I was walking alone in my garden, Mr.
+Richard Bassett, the person who has bereaved me by violence of my
+protector, came, without leave, into my private grounds, and brought a
+very large dog; it ran to me, and frightened me so that I nearly
+fainted with alarm. Mr. Bassett was aware of my condition. Next day I
+consulted my husband, and he ordered me to leave Huntercombe Hall, and
+put myself beyond the reach of trespassers and outrage.
+
+"One motive has governed Mr. Bassett in all his acts, from his
+anonymous letter to me before my marriage--which I keep for your
+inspection, together with the proofs that he wrote it--to the barbarous
+seizure of my husband upon certificates purchased beforehand, and this
+last act of violence, which has driven me from the county for a time.
+
+"Sir Charles and I have often been your hosts and your guests; we now
+ask you to watch our property and our legal rights, so long as through
+injustice and cruelty my husband is a prisoner, his wife a fugitive."
+
+
+
+"There," said the gentleman, "these papers are going all round the
+county."
+
+Wheeler was most indignant, and said he had never been consulted, and
+had never advised a trespass. He begged a loan of the paper, and took
+it to Bassett's that very same afternoon.
+
+"So you have been acting without advice," said he, angrily; "and a fine
+mess you have made of it." And, though not much given to violent anger,
+he dashed the paper down on the table, and hurt his hand a little.
+Anger must be paid for, like other luxuries.
+
+Bassett read it, and was staggered a moment; but he soon recovered
+himself, and said, "What is the foolish woman talking about?"
+
+He then took a sheet of paper, and said he would soon give her a Roland
+for an Oliver.
+
+"Ay," said Wheeler, grimly, "let us see how you will put down _the
+foolish woman._ I'll smoke a cigar in the garden, and recover my
+temper."
+
+Richard Bassett's retort ran thus:
+
+
+
+"I never wrote an anonymous letter in my life; and if I put restraint
+upon Sir Charles, it was done to protect the estate. Experienced
+physicians represented him homicidal and suicidal; and I protected both
+Lady Bassett and himself by the act she has interpreted so harshly.
+
+"As for her last grievance, it is imaginary. My dog is gentle as a
+lamb. I did not foresee Lady Bassett would be there, nor that the poor
+dog would run and welcome her. She is playing a comedy: the real truth
+is, a gentleman had left Huntercombe whose company is necessary to her.
+She has gone to join him, and thrown the blame very adroitly upon
+
+"RICHARD BASSETT."
+
+
+
+When he had written this Bassett ordered his dog-cart.
+
+Wheeler came in, read the letter, and said the last suggestion in it
+was a libel, and an indictable one into the bargain.
+
+"What, if it is true--true to the letter?"
+
+"Even then you would not be safe, unless you could prove it by
+disinterested witnesses."
+
+"Well, if I cannot, I consent to cut this sentence out. Excuse me one
+minute, I must put a few things in my carpetbag."
+
+"What! going away?"
+
+"Of course I am."
+
+"Better give me your address, then, in case anything turns up."
+
+"If you were as sharp as you pass for you would know my address--Royal
+Hotel, Bath, to be sure."
+
+He left Wheeler staring, and was back in five minutes with his
+carpet-bag and wraps.
+
+"Wouldn't to-morrow morning do for this wild-goose chase?" asked
+Wheeler.
+
+"No," said Richard. "I'm not such a fool. Catch me losing twelve hours.
+In that twelve hours they would shift their quarters. It is always so
+when a fool delays. I shall breakfast at the Royal Hotel, Bath."
+
+The dog-cart came to the door as he spoke, and he rattled off to the
+railway.
+
+He managed to get to the Royal Hotel, Bath, at 7 A.M., took a warm bath
+instead of bed, and then ordered breakfast; asked to see the visitors'
+book, and wrote a false name; turned the leaves, and, to his delight,
+saw Lady Bassett's name.
+
+But he could not find Mr. Angelo's name in the book.
+
+He got hold of Boots, and feed him liberally, then asked him if there
+was a handsome young parson there--very dark.
+
+Boots could not say there was.
+
+Then Bassett made up his mind that Angelo was at another hotel, or
+perhaps in lodgings, out of prudence.
+
+"Lady Bassett here still?" said he.
+
+Boots was not very sure; would inquire at the bar. Did inquire, and
+brought him word Lady Bassett had left for London yesterday morning.
+
+Bassett ground his teeth with vexation.
+
+No train to London for an hour and a half. He took a stroll through the
+town to fill up the time.
+
+How often, when a man abandons or remits his search for a time, Fate
+sends in his way the very thing he is after, but has given up hunting
+just then! As he walked along the north side of a certain street, what
+should he see but the truly beautiful and remarkable eyes and eyebrows
+of Mr. Angelo, shining from afar.
+
+That gentleman was standing, in a reverie, on the steps of a small
+hotel.
+
+Bassett drew back at first, not to be seen. Looking round he saw he was
+at the door of a respectable house that let apartments. He hurried in,
+examined the drawing-room floor, took it for a week, paid in advance,
+and sent to the Royal for his bag.
+
+He installed himself near the window, to await one of two things, and
+act accordingly. If Angelo left the place he should go by the same
+train, and so catch the parties together; if the lady doubled back to
+Bath, or had only pretended to leave it, he should soon know that, by
+diligent watch and careful following.
+
+He wrote to Wheeler to announce this first step toward success.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+SOME days after this Mr. Rolfe received a line from Lady Bassett, to
+say she was at the Adelphi Hotel, in John Street. He put some letters
+into his pocket and called on her directly.
+
+She received him warmly, and told him, more fully than she had by
+letter, how she had acted on his advice; then she told him of Richard
+Bassett's last act, and showed him her retort.
+
+He knitted his brows at first over it; but said he thought her
+proclamation could do no harm.
+
+"As a rule," said he, "I object to flicking with a lady's whip when I
+am going to crush, but--yes--it is able, and gives you a good excuse
+for keeping out of the way of annoyances till we strike the blow. And
+now I have something to consult you upon. May I read you some extracts
+from your husband's letters to me?"
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+"Forgive a novelist; but this is a new situation, reading a husband's
+letters to his wife. However, I have a motive, and so I had in
+soliciting the correspondence with Sir Charles." He then read her the
+letters that are already before the reader, and also the following
+extracts:
+
+
+
+"Mr. Johnson, a broken tradesman, has some imagination, though not of a
+poetic kind; he is imbued with trade, and, in the daytime, exercises
+several, especially a butcher's. When he sees any of us coming, he
+whips before the nearest door or gate, and sells meat. He sells it very
+cheap; the reason is, his friends allow him only a shilling or two in
+coppers, and as every madman is the center of the universe, he thinks
+that the prices of all commodities are regulated by the amount of
+specie in his pocket. This is his style, 'Come, buy, buy, choice mutton
+three farthings the carcass. Retail shop next door, ma'am. Jack, serve
+the lady. Bill, tell him he can send me home those twenty bullocks, at
+three half-pence each--' and so on. But at night he subsides into an
+auctioneer, and, with knocking down lots while others are conversing,
+gets removed occasionally to a padded room. Sometimes we humor him, and
+he sells us the furniture after a spirited competition, and debits the
+amounts, for cash is not abundant here. The other night, heated with
+business, he went on from the articles of furniture to the company, and
+put us all up in succession.
+
+"Having a good many dislikes, he sometimes forgot the auctioneer in the
+man, and depreciated some lots so severely that they had to be passed;
+but he set Miss Wieland in a chair, and descanted on her beauty, good
+temper, and other gifts, in terms florid enough for Robins, or any
+other poet. Sold for eighteen pounds, and to a lady. This lady had
+formed a violent attachment to Miss W.; so next week they will be at
+daggers drawn. My turn came, and the auctioneer did me the honor to
+describe me as 'the lot of the evening.' He told the bidders to mind
+what they were about, they might never again be able to secure a live
+baronet at a moderate price, owing to the tightness of the money
+market. Well, sir, I was honored with bids from several ladies; but
+they were too timid and too honest to go beyond their means; my less
+scrupulous sex soared above these considerations, and I was knocked
+down for seventy-nine pounds fifteen shillings, amid loud applause at
+the spirited result. My purchaser is a shop-keeper mad after gardening.
+Dr. Suaby has given him a plot to cultivate, and he whispered in my
+ear, 'The reason I went to a fancy price was, I can kill two birds with
+one stone with you. You'll make a very good statee stuck up among my
+flowers; and you can hallo, and keep those plaguy sparrows off.'"
+
+
+
+"Oh, what creatures for my darling to live among!" cried Lady Bassett
+piteously.
+
+Mr. Rolfe stared, and said, "What, then, you are like all your sex--no
+sense of humor?"
+
+"Humor! when my husband is in misery and degradation!"
+
+"And don't you see that the brave writer of these letters is steeled
+against misery, and above degradation? Such men are not the mere sport
+of circumstances. Your husband carries a soul not to be quelled by
+three months in a well-ordered mad-house. But I will read no more,
+since what gives me satisfaction gives you pain."
+
+"Oh, yes, yes! Don't let me lose a word my husband has ever uttered."
+
+"Well, I'll go on; but I'm horribly discouraged."
+
+"I'm so sorry for that sir. Please forgive me."
+
+Mr. Rolfe read the letter next in date--
+
+
+
+"We are honored with one relic of antiquity, a Pythagorean. He has
+obliged me with his biography. He was, to use his own words, engendered
+by the sun shining on a dunghill at his father's door,' and began his
+career as a flea; but his identity was, somehow, shifted to a boy of
+nine years old. He has had a long spell of humanity, and awaits the
+great change--which is to turn him to a bee. It will not find him
+unprepared; he has long practiced humming, in anticipation. A faithful
+friend, called Caffyn, used to visit him every week. Caffyn died last
+year, and the poor Pythagorean was very lonely and sad; but, two months
+ago, he detected his friend in the butcher's horse, and is more than
+consoled, for he says, Caffyn comes six times a week now, instead of
+once.'"
+
+
+
+"Poor soul!" said Lady Bassett. "What a strange world for him to be
+living in. It seems like a dream."
+
+"There is something stranger coming in this last letter."
+
+"I have at last found one madman allied to Genius. It has taken me a
+fortnight to master his delusion, and to write down the vocabulary he
+has invented to describe the strange monster of his imagination. All
+the words I write in italics are his own.
+
+"Mr. Williams says that a machine has been constructed for malignant
+purposes, which machine is an _air-loom._ It rivals the human machine
+in this, that it can operate either on mind or matter. It was invented,
+and is worked, by a gang of villains superlatively skillful in
+_pneumatic chemistry, physiology, nervous influence, sympathy,_ and the
+_higher metaphysic,_ men far beyond the immature science of the present
+era, which, indeed, is a favorite subject of their ridicule.
+
+"The gang are seven in number, but Williams has only seen the four
+highest: _Bill, the King,_ a master of the art of _magnetic
+impregnation; Jack, the schoolmaster,_ the short-hand writer of the
+gang; _Sir Archy,_ Chief Liar to the Association; and the
+_glove-woman,_ so called from her always wearing cotton mittens. This
+personage has never been known to speak to any one.
+
+"The materials used in the air-loom by these _pneumatic adepts_ are
+infinite; but principally _effluvia of certain metals, poisons,
+soporific scents,_ etc.
+
+"The principal effects are:
+
+"1st. EVENT-WORKING.--This is done by _magnetic manipulation_ of kings,
+emperors, prime ministers, and others; so that, while the world is
+fearing and admiring them, they are, in reality, mere puppets played by
+the workers of the air-loom.
+
+"2d. CUTTING SOUL FROM SENSE.--This is done _by diffusing the magnetic
+warp from the root of the nose under the base of the skull, till it
+forms a veil; so that the sentiments of the heart can have no
+communication with the operations of the intellect._
+
+"3d. KITING.--As boys raise a kite in the air, so the air-loom can lift
+an idea into the brain, where it floats and undulates for hours
+together. The victim cannot get rid of an idea so insinuated.
+
+"4th. LOBSTER-CRACKING.--An external pressure of the magnetic
+atmosphere surrounding the person assailed. Williams has been so
+operated on, and says he felt as if he was grasped by an enormous pair
+of nut-crackers with teeth, and subjected to a piercing pressure, which
+he still remembers with horror. Death sometimes results from
+Lobster-cracking.
+
+"5th. LENGTHENING THE BRAIN.--_As the cylindrical mirror lengthens the
+countenance,_ so these assailants find means to _elon_gate the brain.
+This distorts the ideas, and subjects the most serious are made silly
+and ridiculous.
+
+"6th. THOUGHT-MAKING.--While one of these villains sucks at the brain
+of the assailed, and extracts his existing sentiments, another will
+press into the vacuum ideas very different from his real thoughts. Thus
+his mind is physically enslaved."
+
+
+
+Then Sir Charles goes on to say:
+
+
+
+"Poor Mr. Williams seems to me an inventor wasted. I thought I would
+try and reason him out of his delusion. I asked if he had ever seen
+this gang and their machine.
+
+"He said yes, they operated on him this morning. 'Then show them me,'
+said I. 'Young man,' said he, satirically, 'do you think these
+assassins, and their diabolical machine, would be allowed to go on, if
+they could be laid hands on so easily? The gang are fertile in
+disguise; the machine operates at considerable distances.'
+
+"To drive him into a corner, I said, 'Will you give me a drawing of
+it?' He seemed to hesitate, so I said, 'If you can not draw it, you
+never saw it, and never will.' He assented to that, and I was vain
+enough to think I had staggered him; but yesterday he produced the
+inclosed sketch and explanation. After this I sadly fear he is
+incurable.
+
+"There are three sane patients in this asylum, besides myself. I will
+tell you their stories when you come here, which I hope will be soon;
+for the time agreed on draws near, and my patience and self-control are
+sorely tried, as day after day rolls by, and sees me still in a
+madhouse."
+
+
+
+"There, Lady Bassett," said Mr. Rolfe. "And now for my motive in
+reading these letters. Sir Charles may still have a crotchet, an
+inordinate desire for an heir; but, even if he has, the writer of these
+letters has nothing to fear from any jury; and, therefore, I am now
+ready to act. I propose to go down to the asylum to-morrow, and get him
+out as quickly as I can."
+
+Lady Bassett uttered an ejaculation of joy. Then she turned suddenly
+pale, and her countenance fell. She said nothing.
+
+Mr. Rolfe was surprised at this, since, at their last meeting, she was
+writhing at her inaction. He began to puzzle himself. She watched him
+keenly. He thought to himself, "Perhaps she dreads the excitement of
+meeting--for herself."
+
+At last Lady Bassett asked him how long it would take to liberate Sir
+Charles.
+
+"Not quite a week, if Richard Bassett is well advised. If he fights
+desperately it may take a fortnight. In any case I don't leave the work
+an hour till it is done. I can delay, and I can fight; but I never mix
+the two. Come, Lady Bassett, there is something on your mind you don't
+like to say. Well, what does it matter? I will pack my bag, and write
+to Dr. Suaby that he may expect me soon; but I will wait till I get a
+line from you to go ahead. Then I'll go down that instant and do the
+work."
+
+This proposal was clearly agreeable to Lady Bassett, and she thanked
+him.
+
+"You need not waste words over it," said he. "Write one word, 'ACT!'
+That will be the shortest letter you ever wrote."
+
+The rest of the conversation is not worth recording.
+
+Mr. Rolfe instructed a young solicitor minutely, packed his bag, and
+waited.
+
+But day after day went by, and the order never came to act.
+
+Mr. Rolfe was surprised at this, and began to ask himself whether he
+could have been deceived in this lady's affection for her husband. But
+he rejected that. Then he asked himself whether it might have cooled.
+He had known a very short incarceration produce that fatal effect. Both
+husband and wife interested him, and he began to get irritated at the
+delay.
+
+Sir Charles's letters made him think they had already wasted time.
+
+At last a letter came from Gloucester Place.
+
+
+
+"Will my kind friend now ACT?
+
+"Gratefully,
+
+"BELLA BASSETT."
+
+
+
+Mr. Rolfe, upon this, cast his discontent to the winds and started for
+Bellevue House.
+
+
+
+On the evening of that day a surgeon called Boddington was drinking tea
+with his wife, and they were talking rather disconsolately; for he had
+left a fair business in the country, and, though a gentleman of
+undoubted skill, was making his way very slowly in London.
+
+The conversation was agreeably interrupted by a loud knock at the door.
+
+A woman had come to say that he was wanted that moment for a lady of
+title in Gloucester Place, hard by.
+
+"I will come," said he, with admirably affected indifference; and, as
+soon as the woman was out of sight, husband and wife embraced each
+other.
+
+"Pray God it may all go well, for your sake and hers, poor lady."
+
+Mr. Boddington hurried to the number in Gloucester Place. The door was
+opened by the charwoman.
+
+He asked her with some doubt if that was the house.
+
+The woman said yes, and she believed it was a surprise. The lady was
+from the country, and was looking out for some servants.
+
+This colloquy was interrupted by an intelligent maid, who asked, over
+the balusters, if that was the medical man; and, on the woman's saying
+it was, begged him to step upstairs at once.
+
+He found his patient attended only by her maid, but she was all
+discretion, and intelligence. She said he had only to direct her, she
+would do anything for her dear mistress.
+
+Mr. Boddington said a single zealous and intelligent woman, who could
+obey orders, was as good as a number, or better.
+
+He then went gently to the bedside, and his experience told him at once
+that the patient was in labor.
+
+He told the attendant so, and gave her his directions.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+ME. ROLFE reached Bellevue House in time to make a hasty toilet, and
+dine with Dr. Suaby in his private apartments.
+
+The other guests were Sir Charles Bassett, Mr. Hyam--a meek, sorrowful
+patient--an Exquisite, and Miss Wieland.
+
+Dr. Suaby introduced him to everybody but the Exquisite.
+
+Mr. Rolfe said Sir Charles Bassett and he were correspondents.
+
+"So I hear. He tells you the secrets of the prison-house, eh?"
+
+"The humors of the place, you mean."
+
+"Yes, he has a good eye for character. I suppose he has dissected me
+along with the rest?"
+
+"No, no; he has only dealt with the minor eccentricities. His pen
+failed at you. 'You must come and _see_ the doctor,' he said. So here I
+am."
+
+"Oh," said the doctor, "if your wit and his are both to be leveled at
+me, I had better stop your mouths. Dinner! dinner! Sir Charles, will
+you take Miss Wieland? Sorry we have not another lady to keep you
+company, madam."
+
+"Are you? Then I'm not," said the lady smartly.
+
+The dinner passed like any other, only Rolfe observed that Dr. Suaby
+took every fair opportunity of drawing the pluckless Mr. Hyam into
+conversation, and that he coldly ignored the Exquisite.
+
+"I have seen that young man about town, I think," said Mr. Rolfe.
+"Where was it, I wonder?"
+
+"The Argyll Rooms, or the Casino, probably."
+
+"Thank you, doctor. Oh, I forgot; you owed me one. He is no favorite of
+yours."
+
+"Certainly not. And I only invited him medicinally."
+
+"Medicinally? That's too deep for a layman."
+
+"To flirt with Miss Wieland. Flirting does her good."
+
+"Medicine embraces a wider range than I thought."
+
+"No doubt. You are always talking about medicine; but you know very
+little, begging your pardon."
+
+"That is the theory of compensation. When you know very little about a
+thing you must talk a great deal about it. Well, I'm here for
+instruction; thirsting for it."
+
+"All the better; we'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart."
+
+"All right: but not of your favorite Acetate of Morphia; because that
+is the draught that takes the reason prisoner."
+
+"It's no favorite of mine. Indeed, experience has taught me that all
+sedatives excite; if they soothe at first, they excite next day. My
+antidotes to mental excitement are packing in lukewarm water, and, best
+of all, hard bodily exercise and the perspiration that follows it. To
+put it shortly--prolonged bodily excitement antidotes mental
+excitement."
+
+"I'll take a note of that. It is the wisest thing I ever heard from any
+learned physician."
+
+"Yet many a learned physician knows it. But you are a little prejudiced
+against the faculty."
+
+"Only in their business. They are delightful out of that. But, come
+now, nobody hears us--confess, the system which prescribes drugs,
+drugs, drugs at every visit and in every case, and does not give a
+severe selection of esculents the first place, but only the second or
+third, must be rotten at the core. Don't you despise a layman's eye.
+All the professions want it."
+
+"Well, you are a writer; publish a book, call it Medicina laici, and
+send me a copy."
+
+"To slash in the _Lancet?_ Well, I will: when novels cease to pay and
+truth begins to."
+
+In the course of the evening Mr. Rolfe drew Dr. Suaby apart, and said,
+"I must tell you frankly, I mean to relieve you of one of your
+inmates."
+
+"Only one? I was in hopes you would relieve me of all the sane people.
+They say you are ingenious at it. All I know is, I can't get rid of an
+inmate if the person who signed the order resists. Now, for instance,
+here's a Mrs. Hallam came here unsound: religious delusion. Has been
+cured two months. I have reported her so to her son-in-law, who signed
+the order; but he will not discharge her. He is vicious, she
+scriptural; bores him about eternity. Then I wrote to the Commissioners
+in Lunacy; but they don't like to strain their powers, so they wrote to
+the affectionate son-in-law, and he politely declines to act. Sir
+Charles Bassett the same: three weeks ago I reported him cured, and the
+detaining relative has not even replied to me."
+
+"Got a copy of your letter?"
+
+"Of course. But what if I tell you there is a gentleman here who never
+had any business to come, yet he is as much a fixture as the grates. I
+took him blindfold along with the house. I signed a deed, and it is so
+stringent I can't evade one of my predecessor's engagements. This old
+rogue committed himself to my predecessor's care, under medical
+certificates; the order he signed himself."
+
+"Illegal, you know."
+
+"Of course; but where's the remedy? The person who signed the order
+must rescind it. But this sham lunatic won't rescind it. Altogether the
+tenacity of an asylum is prodigious. The statutes are written with
+bird-lime. Twenty years ago that old Skinflint found the rates and
+taxes intolerable; and doesn't everybody find them intolerable? To
+avoid these rates and taxes he shut up his house, captured himself, and
+took himself here; and here he will end his days, excluding some
+genuine patient, unless _you_ sweep him into the street for me."
+
+"Sindbad, I will try," said Rolfe, solemnly; "but I must begin with Sir
+Charles Bassett. By-the-by, about his crotchet?"
+
+"Oh, he has still an extravagant desire for children. But the cerebral
+derangement is cured, and the other, standing by itself, is a foible,
+not a mania. It is only a natural desire in excess. If they brought me
+Rachel merely because she had said, 'Give me children, or I die,' and I
+found her a healthy woman in other respects, I should object to receive
+her on that score alone."
+
+"You are deadly particular--compared with some of them," said Rolfe.
+
+That evening he made an appointment with Sir Charles, and visited him
+in his room at 8 A. M. He told him he had seen Lady Bassett in London,
+and, of course, he had to answer many questions. He then told him he
+came expressly to effect his liberation.
+
+"I am grateful to you, sir," said Sir Charles, with a suppressed and
+manly emotion.
+
+"Here are my instructions from Lady Bassett; short, but to the point."
+
+"May I keep that?"
+
+"Why, of course."
+
+Sir Charles kissed his wife's line, and put the note in his breast.
+
+"The first step," said Rolfe, "is to cut you in two. That is soon done.
+You must copy in your own hand, and then sign, this writing." And he
+handed him a paper.
+
+
+
+"I, Charles Dyke Bassett, being of sound mind, instruct James Sharpe,
+of Gray's Inn, my Solicitor, to sue the person who signed the order for
+my incarceration--in the Court of Common Pleas; and to take such other
+steps for my relief as may be advised by my counsel--Mr. Francis
+Rolfe."
+
+
+
+"Excuse me," said Sir Charles, "if I make one objection. Mr. Oldfield
+has been my solicitor for many years. I fear it will hurt his feelings
+if I intrust the matter to a stranger. Would there be any objection to
+my inserting Mr. Oldfield's name, sir?"
+
+"Only this: he would think he knew better than I do; and then I, who
+know better than he does, and am very vain and arrogant, should throw
+up the case in a passion, and go back to my MS.; and humdrum Oldfield
+would go to Equity instead of law; and all the costs would fall on your
+estate instead of on your enemy; and you would be here eighteen months
+instead of eight or ten days. No, Sir Charles, you can't mix champagne
+and ditch-water; you can't make Invention row in a boat with Antique
+Twaddle, and you mustn't ask me to fight your battle with a blunt
+knife, when I have got a sharp knife that fits my hand."
+
+Mr. Rolfe said this with more irritation than was justified, and
+revealed one of the great defects in his character.
+
+Sir Charles saw his foible, smiled, and said, "I withdraw a proposal
+which I see annoys you." He then signed the paper.
+
+Mr. Rolfe broke out all smiles directly, and said, "Now you are cut in
+two. One you is here; but Sharpe is another you. Thus, one you works
+out of the asylum, and one in, and that makes all the difference.
+Compare notes with those who have tried the other way. Yet, simple and
+obvious as this is, would you believe it, I alone have discovered this
+method; I alone practice it."
+
+He sent his secretary off to London at once, and returned to Sir
+Charles. "The authority will be with Sharpe at 2:30. He will be at
+Whitehall 3:15, and examine the order. He will take the writ out at
+once, and if Richard Bassett is the man, he will serve it on him
+to-morrow in good time, and send one of your grooms over here on
+horseback with the news. We serve the writ personally, because we have
+shufflers to deal with, and I will not give them a chance. Now I must
+go and write a lie or two for the public; and then inspect the asylum
+with Suaby. Before post-time I will write to a friend of mine who is a
+Commissioner of Lunacy, one of the strong-minded ones. We may as well
+have two strings to our bow."
+
+Sir Charles thanked him gracefully, and said, "It is a rare thing, in
+this selfish world, to see one man interest himself in the wrongs of
+another, as you are good enough to do in mine."
+
+"Oh," said Rolfe, "all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. My
+business is Lying; and I drudge at it. So to escape now and then to the
+play-ground of Truth and Justice is a great amusement and recreation to
+poor me. Besides, it gives me fresh vigor to replunge into Mendacity;
+and that's the thing that pays."
+
+With this simple and satisfactory explanation he rolled away.
+
+Leaving, for the present, matters not essential to this vein of
+incident, I jump to what occurred toward evening.
+
+Just after dinner the servant who waited told Dr. Suaby that a man had
+walked all the way from Huntercombe to see Sir Charles Bassett.
+
+"Poor fellow!" said Dr. Suaby; "I should like to see him. Would you
+mind receiving him here?"
+
+"Oh, no."
+
+"On second thoughts, James, you had better light a candle in the next
+room--in case."
+
+A heavy clatter was heard, and the burly figure of Moses Moss entered
+the room. Being bareheaded, he saluted the company by pulling his head,
+and it bobbed. He was a little dazzled by the lights at first, but soon
+distinguished Sir Charles, and his large countenance beamed with simple
+and affectionate satisfaction.
+
+"How d'ye do, Moss?" said Sir Charles.
+
+"Pretty well, thank ye, sir, in my body, but uneasy in my mind. There
+be a trifle too many rogues afoot to please me. However, I told my
+mistress this morning, says I, 'Before I puts up with this here any
+longer, I must go over there and see him; for here's so many lies
+a-cutting about,' says I, 'I'm fairly mazed.' So, if you please, Sir
+Charles, will you be so good as to tell me out of your own mouth, and
+then I shall know: be you crazy or hain't you--ay or no?"
+
+Suaby and Rolfe had much ado not to laugh right out; but Sir Charles
+said, gravely, he was not crazy. "Do I look crazy, Moss?"
+
+"That ye doan't; you look twice the man you did. Why, your cheeks did
+use to be so pasty like; now you've got a color--but mayhap" (casting
+an eye on the decanters) "ye're flustered a bit wi' drink."
+
+"No, no," said Rolfe, "we have not commenced our nightly debauch yet;
+only just done dinner."
+
+"Then there goes another. This will be good news to home. Dall'd if I
+would not ha' come them there thirty miles on all-fours for't. But,
+sir, if so be you are not crazy, please think about coming home, for
+things ain't as they should be in our parts. My lady she is away for
+her groaning, and partly for fear of this very Richard Bassett; and him
+and his lawyer they have put it about as you are dead in law; that is
+the word: and so the servants they don't know what to think; and the
+village folk are skeared with his clapping four brace on 'em in jail:
+and Joe and I, we wants to fight un, but my dame she is timorous, and
+won't let us, because of the laayer. And th' upshot is, this here
+Richard Bassett is master after a manner, and comes on the very lawn,
+and brings men with a pole measure, and uses the place as his'n mostly;
+but our Joe bides in the Hall with his gun, and swears he'll shoot him
+if he sets foot in the house. Joe says he have my lady's leave and
+license so to do, but not outside."
+
+Sir Charles turned very red, and was breathless with indignation.
+
+Dr. Suaby looked uneasy, and said, "Control yourself, sir.'"
+
+"I am not going to control _myself,"_ cried Rolfe, in a rage. "Don't
+you take it to heart, Sir Charles. It shall not last long."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Dr. Suaby, can you lend me a gig or a dog-cart, with a good horse?"
+
+"Yes. I have got a WONDERFUL roadster, half Irish, half Norman."
+
+"Then, Mr. Moss, to-morrow you and I go to Huntercombe: you shall show
+me this Bassett, and we will give him a pill."
+
+"Meantime," said Dr. Suaby, "I take a leaf out of your Medicina laici,
+and prescribe a hearty supper, a quart of ale, and a comfortable bed to
+Mr. Moss. James, see him well taken care of. Poor man!" said he, when
+Moss had retired. "What simplicity! what good sense! what ignorance of
+the world! what feudality, if I may be allowed the expression."
+
+Sir Charles was manifestly discomposed, and retired to bed early.
+
+Rolfe drove off with Moss at eight o'clock, and was not seen again all
+day. Indeed, Sir Charles was just leaving Dr. Suaby's room when he came
+in rather tired, and would not say a word till they gave him a cup of
+tea: then he brightened up and told his story.
+
+"We went to the railway to meet Sharpe. The muff did not come nor send
+by the first train. His clerk arrived by the second. We went to
+Huntercombe village together, and on the road I gave him some special
+instructions. Richard Bassett not at home. We used a little bad
+language and threw out a skirmisher--Moss, to wit--to find him. Moss
+discovered him on your lawn, planning a new arrangement of the flower
+beds, with Wheeler looking over the boundary wall.
+
+"We went up to Bassett, and the clerk served his copy of the writ. He
+took it quite coolly; but when he saw at whose suit it was he turned
+pale. He recovered himself directly, though, and burst out laughing.
+'Suit of Sir Charles Bassett. Why, he can't sue: he is civiliter
+mortuus: mad as a March hare: in confinement.' Clerk told him he was
+mistaken; Sir Charles was perfectly sane. 'Good-day, sir.' So then
+Bassett asked him to wait a little. He took the writ away, and showed
+it Wheeler, no doubt. He came back, and blustered, and said, 'Some
+other person has instructed you: you will get yourself into trouble, I
+fear.' The little clerk told him not to alarm himself; Mr. Sharpe was
+instructed by Sir Charles Bassett, in his own handwriting and
+signature, and said, 'It is not my business to argue the case with you.
+You had better take the advice of counsel.' 'Thank you,' said Bassett;
+'that would be wasting a guinea.' 'A good many thousand guineas have
+been lost by that sort of economy,' says the little clerk, solemnly.
+Oh, and he told him Mr. Sharpe was instructed to indict him for a
+trepass if he ever came there again; and handed him a written paper to
+that effect, which we two had drawn up at the station; and so left him
+to his reflections. We went into the house, and called the servants
+together, and told them to keep the rooms warm and the beds aired,
+since you might return any day."
+
+Upon this news Sir Charles showed no premature or undignified triumph,
+but some natural complacency, and a good deal of gratitude.
+
+The next day was blank of events, but the next after Mr. Rolfe received
+a letter containing a note addressed to Sir Charles Bassett. Mr. Rolfe
+sent it to him.
+
+
+
+SIR--I am desired to inform you that I attended Lady Bassett last
+night, when she was safely delivered of a son. Have seen her again this
+morning. Mother and child are doing remarkably well.
+
+"W. BODDINGTON, Surgeon, 17 Upper Gloucester Place."
+
+
+
+Sir Charles cried, "Thank God! thank God!" He held out the paper to Mr.
+Rolfe, and sat down, overpowered by tender emotions.
+
+Mr. Rolfe devoured the surgeon's letter at one glance, shook the
+baronet's hand eloquently, and went away softly, leaving him with his
+happiness.
+
+Sir Charles, however, began now to pine for liberty; he longed so to
+join his wife and see his child, and Rolfe, observing this, chafed with
+impatience. He had calculated on Bassett, advised by Wheeler, taking
+the wisest course, and discharging him on the spot. He had also hoped
+to hear from the Commissioner of Lunacy. But neither event took place.
+
+They could have cut the Gordian knot by organizing an escape: Giles and
+others were to be bought to that: but Dr. Suaby's whole conduct had
+been so kind, generous, and confiding, that this was out of the
+question. Indeed, Sir Charles had for the last month been there upon
+parole.
+
+Yet the thing had been wisely planned, as will appear when I come to
+notice the advice counsel had given to Bassett in this emergency. But
+Bassett would not take advice: he went by his own head, and prepared a
+new and terrible blow, which Mr. Rolfe did not foresee.
+
+But meantime an unlooked-for and accidental assistant came into the
+asylum, without the least idea Sir Charles was there.
+
+Mrs. Marsh, early in her married life, converted her husband to
+religion, and took him about the county preaching. She was in earnest,
+and had a vein of natural eloquence that really went straight to
+people's bosoms. She was certainly a Christian, though an eccentric
+one. Temper being the last thing to yield to Gospel light, she still
+got into rages; but now she was very humble and penitent after them.
+
+Well, then, after going about doing good, she decided to settle down
+and do good. As for Marsh, he had only to obey. Judge for yourself: the
+mild, gray-haired vicar of Calverly, who now leaned on la Marsh as on a
+staff, thought it right at the beginning to ascertain that she was not
+opposing her husband's views. He put a query of this kind as delicately
+as possible.
+
+"My husband!" cried she. "If he refused to go to heaven with me, I'd
+take him there by the ear." And her eye flashed with the threat.
+
+Well, somebody told this lady that Mr. Vandeleur was ruined, and in Dr.
+Suaby's asylum, not ten miles from her country-seat. This intelligence
+touched her. She contrasted her own happy condition, both worldly and
+spiritual, with that of this unfortunate reprobate, and she felt bound
+to see if nothing could be done for the poor wretch. A timid Christian
+would have sent some man to do the good work; but this was a lion-like
+one. So she mounted her horse, and taking only her groom with her, was
+at Bellevue in no time.
+
+She dismounted, and said she must speak to Dr. Suaby, sent in her card,
+and was received at once.
+
+"You have a gentleman here called Vandeleur?"
+
+The doctor looked disappointed, but bowed.
+
+"I wish to see him."
+
+"Certainly, madam.--James, take Mrs. Marsh into a sitting-room, and
+send Mr. Vandeleur to her."
+
+"He is not violent, is he?" said Mrs. Marsh, beginning to hesitate when
+she saw there was no opposition.
+
+"Not at all, madam--the Pink of Politeness. If you have any money about
+you, it might be as well to confide it to me."
+
+"What, will he rob me?"
+
+"Oh, no: much too well conducted: but he will most likely wheedle you
+out of it."
+
+"No fear of that, sir." And she followed James.
+
+He took her to a room commanding the lawn. She looked out of the
+window, and saw several ladies and gentlemen walking at their ease,
+reading or working in the sun.
+
+"Poor things!" she thought; "they are not so very miserable: perhaps
+God comforts them by ways unknown to us. I wonder whether preaching
+would do them any good? I should like to try. But they would not let
+me; they lean on the arm of flesh."
+
+Her thoughts were interrupted at last by the door opening gently, and
+in came Vandeleur, with his graceful panther-like step, and a winning
+smile he had put on for conquest.
+
+He stopped; he stared; he remained motionless and astounded.
+
+At last he burst out, "Somer--Was it me you wished to see?"
+
+"Yes," said she, very kindly. "I came to see you for old acquaintance.
+You must call me Mrs. Marsh now; I am married."
+
+By this time he had quite recovered himself, and offered her a chair
+with ingratiating zeal.
+
+"Sit down by me," said she, as if she was petting a child. "Are you
+sure you remember me?"
+
+Says the Courtier, "Who could forget you that had ever had the honor--"
+
+Mrs. Marsh drew back with sudden hauteur. "I did not come here for
+folly," said she. Then, rather naively, "I begin to doubt your being so
+very mad."
+
+"Mad? No, of course I am not."
+
+"Then what brings you here?"
+
+"Stumped."
+
+"What, have I mistaken the house? Is it a jail?"
+
+"Oh, no! I'll tell you. You see I was dipped pretty deep, and duns
+after me, and the Derby my only chance; so I put the pot on. But a dark
+horse won: the Jews knew I was done: so now it was a race which should
+take me. Sloman had seven writs out: I was in a corner. I got a friend
+that knows every move to sign me into this asylum. They thought it was
+all up then, and he is bringing them to a shilling in the pound."
+
+Before he could complete this autobiographical sketch Mrs. Marsh
+started up in a fury, and brought her whip down on the table with a
+smartish cut.
+
+"You little heartless villain!" she screamed. "Is this, the way you
+play upon people: bringing me from my home to console a maniac, and,
+instead of that, you are only what you always were, a spendthrift and a
+scamp? Finely they will laugh at me."
+
+She clutched the whip in her white but powerful hand till it quivered
+in the air, impatient for a victim.
+
+"Oh!" she cried, panting, and struggling with her passion, "if I wasn't
+a child of God, I'd--"
+
+"You'd give me a devilish good hiding," said Vandeleur, demurely.
+
+"That I _would,"_ said she, very earnestly.
+
+"You forget that I never told you I was mad. How could I imagine you
+would hear it? How could I dream you would come, even if you did?"
+
+"I should be no Christian if I didn't come."
+
+"But I mean we parted bad friends, you know."
+
+"Yes, Van; but when I asked you for the gray horse you sent me a new
+sidesaddle. A woman does not forget those little things. You were a
+gentleman, though a child of Belial."
+
+Vandeleur bowed most deferentially, as much as to say, "In both those
+matters you are the highest authority earth contains."
+
+"So come," said she, "here is plenty of writing-paper. Now tell me all
+your debts, and I will put them down."
+
+"What is the use? At a shilling in the pound, six hundred will pay them
+all."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"As sure as that I am not going to rob you of the money."
+
+"Oh, I only mean to lend it you."
+
+"That alters the case."
+
+"Prodigiously." And she smiled satirically. "Now your friend's address,
+that is treating with your creditors."
+
+"Must I?"
+
+"Unless you want to put me in a great passion."
+
+"Anything sooner than that." Then he wrote it for her.
+
+"And now," said she, "grant me a little favor for old acquaintance.
+Just kneel you down there, and let me wrestle with Heaven for you, that
+you may be a brand plucked from the fire, even as I am."
+
+The Pink of Politeness submitted, with a sigh of resignation.
+
+Then she prayed for him so hard, so beseechingly, so eloquently, he was
+amazed and touched.
+
+She rose from her knees, and laid her head on her hand, exhausted a
+little by her own earnestness.
+
+He stood by her, and hung his head.
+
+"You are very good," he said. "It is a shame to let you waste it on me.
+Look here--I want to do a little bit of good to another man, after you
+praying so beautifully."
+
+"Ah! I am so glad. Tell me."
+
+"Well, then, you mustn't waste a thought on me, Rhoda. I'm a gambler
+and a fool: let me go to the dogs at once; it is only a question of
+time: but there's a fellow here that is in trouble, and doesn't deserve
+it, and he was a faithful friend to you, I believe. I never was. And he
+has got a wife: and by what I hear, you could get him out, I think, and
+I am sure you would be angry with me afterward if I didn't tell you;
+you have such a good heart. It is Sir Charles Bassett."
+
+"Sir Charles Bassett here! Oh, his poor wife! What drove him mad? Poor,
+poor Sir Charles!"
+
+"Oh, he is all right. They have cured him entirely; but there is no
+getting him out, and he is beginning to lose heart, they say. There's a
+literary swell here can tell you all about it; he has come down
+expressly: but they are in a fix, and I think you could help them out.
+I wish you would let me introduce you to him."
+
+"To whom?"
+
+"To Mr. Rolfe. You used to read his novels."
+
+"I adore him. Introduce me at once. But Sir Charles must not see me,
+nor know I am here. Say Mrs. Marsh, a friend of Lady Bassett's, begs to
+be introduced."
+
+Sly Vandeleur delivered this to Rolfe; but whispered out of his own
+head, "A character for your next novel--a saint with the devil's own
+temper."
+
+This insidious addition brought Mr. Rolfe to her directly.
+
+As might be expected from their go-ahead characters, these two knew
+each other intimately in about twelve minutes; and Rolfe told her all
+the facts I have related, and Marsh went into several passions, and
+corrected herself, and said she had been a great sinner, but was
+plucked from the burning, and therefore thankful to anybody who would
+give her a little bit of good to do.
+
+Rolfe took prompt advantage of this foible, and urged her to see the
+Commissioners in Lunacy, and use all her eloquence to get one of them
+down. "They don't act upon my letters," said he; "but it will be
+another thing if a beautiful, ardent woman puts it to them in person,
+with all that power of face and voice I see in you. You are all fire;
+and you can talk Saxon."
+
+"Oh, I'll talk to them," said Mrs. Marsh, "and God will give me words;
+He always does when I am on His side. Poor Lady Bassett! my heart
+bleeds for her. I will go to London to-morrow; ay, to-night, if you
+like. To-night? I'll go this instant!"
+
+"What!" said Rolfe: "is there a lady in the world who will go a journey
+without packing seven trunks--and merely to do a good action?"
+
+"You forget. Penitent sinners must make up for lost time."
+
+"At that rate impenitent ones like me had better lose none. So I'll arm
+you at once with certain documents, and you must not leave the
+commissioners till they promise to send one of their number down
+without delay to examine him, and discharge him if he is as we
+represent."
+
+Mrs. Marsh consented warmly, and went with Rolfe to Dr. Suaby's study.
+
+They armed her with letters and written facts, and she rode off at a
+fiery pace; but not before she and Rolfe had sworn eternal friendship.
+
+The commissioners received Mrs. Marsh coldly. She was chilled, but not
+daunted. She produced Suaby's letter and Rolfe's, and when they were
+read she played the orator. She argued, she remonstrated, she
+convinced, she persuaded, she thundered. Fire seemed to come out of the
+woman.
+
+Mr. Fawcett, on whom Mr. Rolfe had mainly relied, caught fire, and
+declared he would go down next day and look into the matter on the
+spot; and he kept his word. He came down; he saw Sir Charles and Suaby,
+and penetrated the case.
+
+Mr. Fawcett was a man with a strong head and a good heart, but rather
+an arrogant manner. He was also slightly affected with official
+pomposity and reticence; so, unfortunately, he went away without
+declaring his good intentions, and discouraged them all with the fear
+of innumerable delays in the matter.
+
+Now if Justice is slow, Injustice is swift. The very next day a
+thunder-clap fell on Sir Charles and his friends.
+
+Arrived at the door a fly and pair, with three keepers from an asylum
+kept by Burdoch, a layman, the very opposite of the benevolent Suaby.
+His was a place where the old system of restraint prevailed, secretly
+but largely: strait-waistcoats, muffles, hand-locks, etc. Here fleas
+and bugs destroyed the patients' rest; and to counteract the insects
+morphia was administered freely. Given to the bugs and fleas, it would
+have been an effectual antidote; but they gave it to the patients, and
+so the insects won.
+
+These three keepers came with an order correctly drawn, and signed by
+Richard Bassett, to deliver Sir Charles to the agents showing the
+order.
+
+Suaby, who had a horror of Burdoch, turned pale at the sight of the
+order, and took it to Rolfe.
+
+"Resist!" said that worthy.
+
+"I have no right."
+
+"On second thoughts, do nothing, but gain time, while I--Has Bassett
+paid you for Sir Charles's board?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Decline to give him up till that is done, and be some time making out
+the bill. Come what may, pray keep Sir Charles here till I send you a
+note that I am ready."
+
+He then hastened to Sir Charles and unfolded his plans, to him.
+
+Sir Charles assented eagerly. He was quite willing to run risks with
+the hope of immediate liberation, which Rolfe held out. His own part
+was to delay and put off till he got a line from Rolfe.
+
+Rolfe then borrowed Vandeleur on parole and the doctor's dog-cart, and
+dashed into the town, distant two miles.
+
+First he went to the little theater, and found them just concluding a
+rehearsal. Being a playwright, he was known to nearly all the people,
+more or less, and got five supers and one carpenter to join him--for a
+consideration.
+
+He then made other arrangements in the town, the nature of which will
+appear in due course.
+
+Meantime Suaby had presented his bill. One of the keepers got into the
+fly and took it back to the town. There, as Rolfe had anticipated,
+lurked Richard Bassett. He cursed the delay, gave the man the money,
+and urged expedition. The money was brought and paid, and Suaby
+informed Sir Charles.
+
+But Sir Charles was not obliged to hurry. He took a long time to pack;
+and he was not ready till Vandeleur brought a note to him from Rolfe.
+
+Then Sir Charles came down.
+
+Suaby made Burdoch's keeper sign a paper to the effect that he had the
+baronet in charge, and relieved Suaby of all further responsibility.
+
+Then Sir Charles took an affectionate leave of Dr. Suaby, and made him
+promise to visit him at Huntercombe Hall.
+
+Then he got into the fly, and sat between two keepers, and the fly
+drove off.
+
+Sir Charles at that moment needed all his fortitude. The least mistake
+or miscalculation on the part of his friends, and what might not be the
+result to him?
+
+As the fly went slowly through the gate he saw on his right hand a
+light carriage and pair moving up; but was it coming after him, or only
+bringing visitors to the asylum?
+
+The fly rolled on; even his stout heart began to quake. It rolled and
+rolled. Sir Charles could stand it no longer. He tried to look out of
+the window to see if the carriage was following.
+
+One of the keepers pulled him in roughly. "Come, none of that, sir?"
+
+"You insolent scoundrel!" said Sir Charles.
+
+"Ay, ay," said the man; "we'll see about that when we get you home."
+
+Then Sir Charles saw he had offended a vindictive blackguard.
+
+He sank back in his seat, and a cold chill crept over him.
+
+Just then they passed a little clump of fir-trees.
+
+In a moment there rushed out of these trees a number of men in crape
+masks, stopped the horses, surrounded the carriage, and opened it with
+brandishing of bludgeons and life-preservers, and pointing of guns.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+A BIG man, who seemed the leader, fired a volley of ferocious oaths at
+the keepers, and threatened to send them to hell that moment if they
+did not instantly deliver up that gentleman.
+
+The keepers were thoroughly terrified, and roared for mercy.
+
+"Hand him out here, you scoundrels!"
+
+"Yes! yes! Man alive, we are not resisting: what is the use?"
+
+"Hand down his luggage."
+
+It was done all in a flutter.
+
+"Now get in again; turn your horses' heads the other way, and don't
+come back for an hour. You with your guns take stations in those trees,
+and shoot them dead if they are back before their time."
+
+These threats were interlarded with horrible oaths, and Burdoch's party
+were glad to get off, and they drove away quickly in the direction
+indicated.
+
+However, as soon as they got over their first surprise they began to
+smell a hoax; and, instead of an hour, it was scarcely twenty minutes
+when they came back.
+
+But meantime the supers were paid liberally among the fir-trees by
+Vandeleur, pocketed their crape, flung their dummy guns into a
+cornfield, dispersed in different directions, and left no trace.
+
+But Sir Charles was not detained for that: the moment he was recaptured
+he and his luggage were whisked off in the other carriage, and, with
+Rolfe and his secretary, dashed round the town, avoiding the main
+street, to a railway eight miles off, at a pace almost defying pursuit.
+Not that they dreaded it: they had numbers, arms, and a firm
+determination to fight if necessary, and also three tongues to tell the
+truth, instead of one.
+
+At one in the morning they were in London. They slept at Mr. Rolfe's
+house; and before breakfast Mr. Rolfe's secretary was sent to secure a
+couple of prize-fighters to attend upon Sir Charles till further
+notice. They were furnished with a written paper explaining the case
+briefly, and were instructed to hit first and talk afterward should a
+recapture be attempted. Should a crowd collect, they were to produce
+the letter. These measures were to provide against his recapture under
+the statute, which allows an alleged lunatic to be retaken upon the old
+certificates for fourteen days after his escape from confinement, but
+for no longer.
+
+Money is a good friend in such contingencies as these.
+
+Sir Charles started directly after breakfast to find his wife and
+child. The faithful pugilists followed at his heels in another cab.
+
+Neither Sir Charles nor Mr. Rolfe knew Lady Bassett's address: it was
+the medical man who had written: but that did not much matter; Sir
+Charles was sure to learn his wife's address from Mr. Boddington. He
+called on that gentleman at 17 Upper Gloucester Place. Mr. Boddington
+had just taken his wife down to Margate for her health; had only been
+gone half an hour.
+
+This was truly irritating and annoying. Apparently Sir Charles must
+wait that gentleman's return. He wrote a line, begging Mr. Boddington
+to send him Lady Bassett's address in a cab immediately on his return.
+
+He told Mr. Rolfe this; and then for the first time let out that his
+wife's not writing to him at the asylum had surprised and alarmed him;
+he was on thorns.
+
+Mr. Boddington returned in the middle of the night, and at breakfast
+time Sir Charles had a note to say Lady Bassett was at 119 Gloucester
+Place, Portman Square.
+
+Sir Charles bolted a mouthful or two of breakfast, and then dashed off
+in a hansom to 119 Gloucester Place.
+
+There was a bill in the window, "To be let, furnished. Apply to Parker
+& Ellis."
+
+He knocked at the door. Nobody came. Knocked again. A lugubrious female
+opened the door.
+
+"Lady Bassett?"
+
+"Don't live here, sir. House to be let."
+
+Sir Charles went to Mr. Boddington and told him.
+
+Mr. Boddington said he thought he could not be mistaken; but he would
+look at his address-book. He did, and said it was certainly 119
+Gloucester Place; "Perhaps she has left," said he. "She was very
+healthy--an excellent patient. But I should not have advised her to
+move for a day or two more."
+
+Sir Charles was sore puzzled. He dashed off to the agents, Parker &
+Ellis.
+
+They said, Yes; the house was Lady Bassett's for a few months. They
+were instructed to let it.
+
+"When did she leave? I am her husband, and we have missed each other
+somehow."
+
+The clerk interfered, and said Lady Bassett had brought the keys in her
+carriage yesterday.
+
+Sir Charles groaned with vexation and annoyance.
+
+"Did she give you no address?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Huntercombe Hall."
+
+"I mean no address in London?"
+
+"No, sir; none."
+
+Sir Charles was now truly perplexed and distressed, and all manner of
+strange ideas came into his head. He did not know what to do, but he
+could not bear to do nothing, so he drove to the _Times_ office and
+advertised, requesting Lady Bassett to send her present address to Mr.
+Rolfe.
+
+At night he talked this strange business over with Mr. Rolfe.
+
+That gentleman thought she must have gone to Huntercombe; but by the
+last post a letter came from Suaby, inclosing one from Lady Bassett to
+her husband.
+
+
+
+"119 Gloucester Place.
+
+"DARLING--The air here is not good for baby, and I cannot sleep for the
+noise. We think of creeping toward home to-morrow, in an easy carriage.
+Pray God you may soon meet us at dear Huntercombe. Our first journey
+will be to that dear old comfortable inn at Winterfield, where you and
+I were so happy, but not happier, dearest darling, than we shall soon
+be again, I hope.
+
+"Your devoted wife.
+
+"BELLA BASSETT.
+
+"My heartfelt thanks to Mr. Rolfe for all he is doing."
+
+
+
+Sir Charles wanted to start that night for Winterfield, but Rolfe
+persuaded him not. "And mind," said he, "the faithful pugilists must go
+with you."
+
+The morning's post rendered that needless. It brought another letter
+from Suaby, informing Mr. Rolfe that the Commissioners had positively
+discharged Sir Charles, and notified the discharge to Richard Bassett.
+
+Sir Charles took leave of Mr. Rolfe as of a man who was to be his bosom
+friend for life, and proceeded to hunt his wife.
+
+She had left Winterfield; but he followed her like a stanch hound, and
+when he stopped at a certain inn, some twenty miles from Huntercombe, a
+window opened, there was a strange loving scream; he looked up, and saw
+his wife's radiant face, and her figure ready to fly down to him. He
+rushed upstairs, into the right room by some mighty instinct, and held
+her, panting and crying for joy, in his arms.
+
+That moment almost compensated what each had suffered.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+So full was the joy of this loving pair that, for a long time, they sat
+rocking in each other's arms, and thought of nothing but their sorrows
+past, and the sea of bliss they were floating on.
+
+But presently Sir Charles glanced round for a moment. Swift to
+interpret his every look, Lady Bassett rose, took two steps, came back
+and printed a kiss on his forehead, and then went to a door and opened
+it.
+
+"Mrs. Millar!" said she, with one of those tones by which these ladies
+impregnate with meaning a word that has none at all; and then she came
+back to her husband.
+
+Soon a buxom woman of forty appeared, carrying a biggish bank of linen
+and lace, with a little face in the middle. The good woman held it up
+to Sir Charles, and he felt something novel stir inside him. He looked
+at the little thing with a vast yearning of love, with pride, and a
+good deal of curiosity; and then turned smiling to his wife. She had
+watched him furtively but keenly, and her eyes were brimming over. He
+kissed the little thing, and blessed it, and then took his wife's
+hands, and kissed her wet eyes, and made her stand and look at baby
+with him, hand in hand. It was a pretty picture.
+
+The buxom woman swelled her feathers, as simple women do when they
+exhibit a treasure of this sort; she lifted the little mite slowly up
+and down, and said, "Oh, you Beauty!" and then went off into various
+inarticulate sounds, which I recommend to the particular study of the
+new philosophers: they cannot have been invented after speech; that
+would be retrogression; they must be the vocal remains of that hairy,
+sharp-eared quadruped, our Progenitor, who by accident discovered
+language, and so turned Biped, and went ahead of all the other hairy
+quadrupeds, whose ears were too long or not sharp enough to stumble
+upon language.
+
+Under cover of these primeval sounds Lady Bassett drew her husband a
+little apart, and looking in his face with piteous wistfulness, said,
+"You won't mind Richard Bassett and his baby now?"
+
+"Not I."
+
+"You will never have another fit while you live?"
+
+"I promise."
+
+"You will always be happy?"
+
+"I must be an ungrateful scoundrel else, my dear."
+
+"Then baby is our best friend. Oh, you little angel!" And she pounced
+on the mite, and kissed it far harder than Sir Charles had. Heaven
+knows what these gentle creatures are so rough with their mouths to
+children, but so it is.
+
+And now how can a mere male relate all the pretty childish things that
+were done and said to baby, and of baby, before the inevitable
+squalling began, and baby was taken away to be consoled by another of
+his subjects.
+
+Sir Charles and Lady Bassett had a thousand things to tell each other,
+to murmur in each other's ears, sitting lovingly close to each other.
+
+But when all was quiet, and everybody else was in bed, Lady Bassett
+plucked up courage and said, "Charles, I am not quite happy. There is
+one thing wanting." And then she hid her face in her hands and blushed.
+"I cannot nurse him."
+
+"Never mind," said Sir Charles kindly.
+
+"You forgive me?"
+
+"Forgive you, my poor girl! Why, is that a crime?"
+
+"It leads to so many things. You don't know what a plague a nurse is,
+and makes one jealous."
+
+"Well, but it is only for a time. Come, Bella, this is a little
+peevish. Don't let us be ungrateful to Heaven. As for me, while you and
+our child live, I am proof against much greater misfortunes than that."
+
+Then Lady Bassett cleared up, and the subject dropped.
+
+But it was renewed next morning in a more definite form.
+
+Sir Charles rose early; and in the pride and joy of his heart, and not
+quite without an eye to triumphing over his mortal enemy and his cold
+friends, sent a mounted messenger with orders to his servants to
+prepare for his immediate reception, and to send out his landau and
+four horses to the "Rose," at Staveleigh, half-way between Huntercombe
+and the place where he now was. Lady Bassett had announced herself able
+for the journey.
+
+After breakfast he asked her rather suddenly whether Mrs. Millar was
+not rather an elderly woman to select for a nurse. "I thought people
+got a young woman for that office."
+
+"Oh," said Lady Bassett, "why, Mrs. Millar is not _the_ nurse. Of
+course nurse is young and healthy, and from the country, and the best I
+could have in every way for baby. But yet--oh, Charles, I hope you will
+not be angry--who do you think nurse is? It is Mary Gosport--Mary Wells
+that was."
+
+Sir Charles was a little staggered. He put this and that together, and
+said, "Why, she must have been playing the fool, then?"
+
+"Hush! not so loud, dear. She is a married woman now, and her husband
+gone to sea, and her child dead. Most wet-nurses have a child of their
+own; and don't you think they must hate the stranger's child that parts
+them from their own? Now baby is a comfort to Mary. And the wet-nurse
+is always a tyrant; and I thought, as this one has got into a habit of
+obeying me, she might be more manageable; and then as to her having
+been imprudent, I know many ladies who have been obliged to shut their
+eyes a little. Why, consider, Charles, would good wives and good
+mothers leave their own children to nurse a stranger's? Would their
+husbands let them? And I thought," said she, piteously, "we were so
+fortunate to get a young, healthy girl, imprudent but not vicious,
+whose fault had been covered by marriage, and then so attached to us
+both as she is, poor thing!"
+
+Sir Charles was in no humor to make mountains of mole-hills. "Why, my
+dear Bella," said he, "after all, this is your department, not mine."
+
+"Yes, but unless I please you in every department there is no happiness
+for me."
+
+"But you know you please me in everything; and the more I look into
+anything, the wiser I always think you. You have chosen the best
+wet-nurse possible. Send her to me."
+
+Lady Bassett hesitated. "You will be kind to her. You know the
+consequence if anything happens to make her fret. Baby will suffer for
+it."
+
+"Oh, I know. Catch me offending this she potentate till he is weaned.
+Dress for the journey, my dear, and send nurse to me."
+
+Lady Bassett went into the next room, and after a long time Mary came
+to Sir Charles with baby in her arms.
+
+Mary had lost for a time some of her ruddy color, but her skin was
+clearer, and somehow her face was softened. She looked really a
+beautiful and attractive young woman.
+
+She courtesied to Sir Charles, and then took a good look at him.
+
+"Well, nurse," said he, cheerfully, "here we are back again, both of
+us."
+
+"That we be, sir." And she showed her white teeth in a broad smile.
+"La, sir, you be a sight for sore eyes. How well you do look, to be
+sure!"
+
+"Thank you, Mary. I never was better in my life. You look pretty well
+too; only a little pale; paler than Lady Bassett does."
+
+"I give my color to the child," said Mary, simply.
+
+She did not know she had said anything poetic; but Sir Charles was so
+touched and pleased with her answer that he gave her a five-pound note
+on the spot; and he said, "We'll bring your color back if beef and beer
+and kindness can do it."
+
+"I ain't afeard o' that, sir; and I'll arn it. 'Tis a lovely boy, sir,
+and your very image."
+
+Inspection followed; and something or other offended young master; he
+began to cackle. But this nurse did not take him away, as Mrs. Millar
+had. She just sat down with him and nursed him openly, with rustic
+composure and simplicity.
+
+Sir Charles leaned his arm on the mantel-piece, and eyed the pair; for
+all this was a new world of feeling to him. His paid servant seemed to
+him to be playing the mother to his child. Somehow it gave him a
+strange twinge, a sort of vicarious jealousy: he felt for his Bella.
+But I think his own paternal pride, in all its freshness, was hurt a
+little too.
+
+At last he shrugged his shoulders, and was going out of the room, with
+a hint to Mary that she must wrap herself up, for it would be an open
+carriage--
+
+"Your own carriage, sir, and horses?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"And do all the folk know as we are coming?"
+
+Sir Charles laughed. "Most likely. Gossip is not dead at Huntercombe, I
+dare say."
+
+Nurse's black eyes flashed. "All the village will be out. I hope _he_
+will see us ride in, the black-hearted villain!"
+
+Sir Charles was too proud to let her draw him into that topic; he went
+about his business.
+
+
+
+Lady Bassett's carriage, duly packed, came round, and Lady Bassett was
+ready soon afterward; so was Mrs. Millar; so was baby, imbedded now in
+a nest of lawn and lace and white fur. They had to wait for nurse. Lady
+Bassett explained _sotto voce_ to her husband, "Just at the last moment
+she was seized with a desire to wear a silk gown I gave her. I argued
+with her, but she only pouted. I was afraid for baby. It is very hard
+upon _you,_ dear."
+
+Her face and voice were so piteous that Sir Charles burst out laughing.
+
+"We must take the bitter along with the sweet. Don't you think the
+sweet rather predominates at present?"
+
+Lady Bassett explored his face with all her eyes. "My darling is happy
+now; trifles cannot put him out."
+
+"I doubt if anything could shake me while I have you and our child. As
+for that jade keeping us all waiting while she dons silk attire, it is
+simply delicious. I wish Rolfe was here, that is all. Ha! ha! ha!"
+
+Mrs. Gosport appeared at last in a purple silk gown, and marched to the
+carriage without the slightest sign of the discomfort she really felt;
+but that was no wonder, belonging, as she did, to a sex which can walk
+not only smiling but jauntily, though dead lame on stilts, as you may
+see any day in Regent Street.
+
+Sir Charles, with mock gravity, ushered King Baby and his attendants in
+first, then Lady Bassett, and got in last himself.
+
+Before they had gone a mile Nurse No. 1 handed the child over to Nurse
+No. 2 with a lofty condescension, as who should say, "You suffice for
+porterage; I, the superior artist, reserve myself for emergencies." No.
+2 received the invaluable bundle with meek complacency.
+
+By-and-by Nurse 1 got fidgety, and kept changing her position.
+
+"What is the matter, Mary?" said Lady Bassett, kindly. "Is the dress
+too tight?"
+
+"No, no, my lady," said Mary, sharply; "the gownd's all right." And
+then she was quiet a little.
+
+But she began again; and then Lady Bassett whispered Sir Charles, "I
+think she wants to sit forward: _may_ I?"
+
+"Certainly not. I'll change with her. Here, Mary, try this side. We
+shall have more room in the landau; it is double, with wide seats."
+
+Mary was gratified, and amused herself looking out of the window.
+Indeed, she was quiet for nearly half an hour. At the expiration of
+that period the fit took her again. She beckoned haughtily for baby,
+"which did come at her command," as the song says. She got tired of
+baby, or something, and handed him back again.
+
+Presently she was discovered to be crying.
+
+General consternation! Universal but vague consolation!
+
+Lady Bassett looked an inquiry at Mrs. Millar. Mrs. Millar looked back
+assent. Lady Bassett assumed the command, and took off Mary's shawl.
+
+_"Yes,"_ said she to Mrs. Millar. "Now, Mary, be good; it _is_ too
+tight."
+
+Thus urged, the idiot contracted herself by a mighty effort, while Lady
+Bassett attacked the fastenings, and, with infinite difficulty, they
+unhooked three bottom hooks. The fierce burst open that followed, and
+the awful chasm, showed what gigantic strength vanity can command, and
+how savagely abuse it to maltreat nature.
+
+Lady Bassett loosened the stays too, and a deep sigh of relief told the
+truth, which the lying tongue had denied, as it always does whenever
+the same question is put.
+
+The shawl was replaced, and comfort gained till they entered the town
+of Staveleigh.
+
+Nurse instantly exchanged places with Sir Charles, and took the child
+again. He was her banner in all public places.
+
+When they came up to the inn they were greeted with loud hurrahs. It
+was market-day. The town was full of Sir Charles's tenants and other
+farmers. His return had got wind, and every farmer under fifty had
+resolved to ride with him into Huntercombe.
+
+When five or six, all shouting together, intimated this to Sir Charles,
+he sent one of his people to order the butchers out to Huntercombe with
+joints a score, and then to gallop on with a note to his housekeeper
+and butler. "For those that ride so far with me must sup with me," said
+he; a sentiment that was much approved.
+
+He took Lady Bassett and the women upstairs and rested them about an
+hour; and then they started for Huntercombe, followed by some thirty
+farmers and a dozen towns-people, who had a mind for a lark and to sup
+at Huntercombe Hall for once.
+
+The ride was delightful; the carriage bowled swiftly along over a
+smooth road, with often turf at the side; and that enabled the young
+farmers to canter alongside without dusting the carriage party. Every
+man on horseback they overtook joined them; some they met turned back
+with them, and these were rewarded with loud cheers. Every eye in the
+carriage glittered, and every cheek was more or less flushed by this
+uproarious sympathy so gallantly shown, and the very thunder of so many
+horses' feet, each carrying a friend, was very exciting and glorious.
+Why, before they got to the village they had fourscore horsemen at
+their backs.
+
+As they got close to the village Mary Gosport held out her arms for
+young master: this was not the time to forego her importance.
+
+The church-bells rang out a clashing peal, the cavalcade clattered into
+the village. Everybody was out to cheer, and at sight of baby the
+women's voices were as loud as the men's. Old pensioners of the house
+were out bareheaded; one, with hair white as snow, was down on his
+knees praying a blessing on them.
+
+Lady Bassett began to cry softly; Sir Charles, a little pale, but firm
+as a rock; both bowing right and left, like royal personages; and well
+they might; every house in the village belonged to them but one.
+
+On approaching that one Mary Gosport turned her head round, and shot a.
+glance round out of the tail of her eye. Ay, there was Richard Bassett,
+pale and gloomy, half-hid behind a tree at his gate: but Hate's quick
+eye discerned him: at the moment of passing she suddenly lifted the
+child high, and showed it him, pretending to show it to the crowd: but
+her eye told the tale; for, with that act of fierce hatred and cunning
+triumph, those black orbs shot a colored gleam like a furious
+leopardess's.
+
+A roar of cheers burst from the crowd at that inspired gesture of a
+woman, whose face and eyes seemed on fire: Lady Bassett turned pale.
+
+The next moment they passed their own gate, and dashed up to the hall
+steps of Huntercombe.
+
+Sir Charles sent Lady Bassett to her room for the night. She walked
+through a row of ducking servants, bowing and smiling like a gentle
+goddess.
+
+Mary Gosport, afraid to march in a long dress with the child, for fear
+of accidents, handed him superbly to Millar and strutted haughtily
+after her mistress, nodding patronage. Her follower, the meek Millar,
+stopped often to show the heir right and left, with simple geniality
+and kindness.
+
+Sir Charles stood on the hall steps, and invited all to come in and
+take pot-luck.
+
+Already spits were turning before great fires; a rump of beef, legs of
+pork, and pease-puddings boiling in one copper; turkeys and fowls in
+another; joints and pies baking in the great brick ovens; barrels of
+beer on tap, and magnums of champagne and port marching steadily up
+from the cellars, and forming in line and square upon sideboards and
+tables.
+
+Supper was laid in the hall, the dining-room, the drawing-room, and the
+great kitchen.
+
+Poor villagers trickled in: no man or woman was denied; it was open
+house that night, as it had been four hundred years ago.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+WHEN Sharpe's clerk retired, after serving that writ on Bassett,
+Bassett went to Wheeler and treated it as a jest. But Wheeler looked
+puzzled, and Bassett himself, on second thoughts, said he should like
+advice of counsel. Accordingly they both went up to London to a
+solicitor, and obtained an interview with a counsel learned in the law.
+He heard their story, and said, "The question is, can you convince a
+jury he was insane at the time?"
+
+"But he can't get into court," said Bassett. "I won't let him."
+
+"Oh, the court will make you produce him."
+
+"But I thought an insane person was civiliter mortuus, and couldn't
+sue."
+
+"So he is; but this man is not insane in law. Shutting up a man on
+certificates is merely a preliminary step to a fair trial by his peers
+whether he is insane or not. Take the parallel case of a felon. A
+magistrate commits him for trial, and generally on better evidence than
+medical certificates; but that does not make the man a felon, or
+disentitle him to a trial by his peers; on the contrary, it entitles
+him to a trial, and he could get Parliament to interfere if he was not
+brought to trial. This plaintiff simply does what, he will say, you
+ought to have done; he tries himself; if he tries you at the same time,
+that is your fault. If he is insane now, fight. If he is not, I advise
+you to discharge him on the instant, and then compound."
+
+Wheeler said he was afraid the plaintiff was too vindictive to come to
+terms.
+
+"Well, then, you can show you discharged him the moment you had reason
+to think he was cured, and you must prove he was insane when you
+incarcerated him; but I warn you it will be uphill work if he is sane
+now; the jury will be apt to go by what they see."
+
+Bassett and Wheeler retired; the latter did not presume to differ; but
+Bassett was dissatisfied and irritated.
+
+"That fellow would only see the plaintiff's side," said he. "The fool
+forgets there is an Act of Parliament, and that we have complied with
+its provisions to a T."
+
+"Then why did you not ask his construction of the Act?" suggested
+Wheeler.
+
+"Because I don't want his construction. I've read it, and it is plain
+enough to anybody but a fool. Well, I have consulted counsel, to please
+you; and now I'll go my own way, to please myself."
+
+He went to Burdoch, and struck a bargain, and Sir Charles was to be
+shifted to Burdoch's asylum, and nobody allowed to see him there, etc.,
+etc.; the old system, in short, than which no better has as yet been
+devised for perpetuating, or even causing, mental aberration.
+
+Rolfe baffled this, as described, and Bassett was literally stunned. He
+now saw that Sir Charles had an ally full of resources and resolution.
+Who could it be? He began to tremble. He complained to the police, and
+set them to discover who had thus openly and audaciously violated the
+Act of Parliament, and then he went and threatened Dr. Suaby.
+
+But Rolfe and Sir Charles, who loved Suaby as he deserved, had provided
+against that; they had not let the doctor into their secret. He
+therefore said, with perfect truth, that he had no hand in the matter,
+and that Sir Charles, being bound upon his honor not to escape from
+Bellevue, would be in the asylum still if Mr. Bassett had not taken him
+out, and invoked brute force, in the shape of Burdoch. "Well, sir,"
+said he, "it seems they have shown you two can play at that game." And
+so bade him good afternoon very civilly.
+
+Bassett went home sickened. He remained sullen and torpid for a day or
+two; then he wrote to Burdoch to send to London and try and recapture
+Sir Charles.
+
+But next day he revoked his instructions, for be got a letter from the
+Commissioners of Lunacy, announcing the authoritative discharge of Sir
+Charles, on the strong representation of Dr. Suaby and other competent
+persons.
+
+That settled the matter, and the poor cousin had kept the rich cousin
+three months at his own expense, with no solid advantage, but the
+prospect of a lawsuit.
+
+Sharpe, spurred by Rolfe, gave him no breathing time. With the utmost
+expedition the Declaration in Bassett _v._ Bassett followed the writ.
+
+It was short, simple, and in three counts.
+
+"For violently seizing and confining the plaintiff in a certain place,
+on a false pretense that he was insane.
+
+"For detaining him in spite of evidence that he was not insane.
+
+"For endeavoring to remove him to another place, with a certain
+sinister motive there specified.
+
+"By which several acts the plaintiff had suffered in his health and his
+worldly affairs, and had endured great agony of mind."
+
+And the plaintiff claimed damages, ten thousand pounds.
+
+Bassett sent over for his friend Wheeler, and showed him the new
+document with no little consternation.
+
+But their discussion of it was speedily interrupted by the clashing of
+triumphant bells and distant shouting.
+
+They ran out to see what it was. Bassett, half suspecting, hung back;
+but Mary Gosport's keen eye detected him, and she held up the heir to
+him, with hate and triumph blazing in her face.
+
+He crept into his own house and sank into a chair foudroye.
+
+Wheeler, however, roused him to a necessary effort, and next day they
+took the Declaration to counsel, to settle their defense in due form.
+
+"What is this?" said the learned gentleman. "Three counts! Why, I
+advised you to discharge him at once."
+
+"Yes," said Wheeler, "and excellent advice it was. But my client--"
+
+"Preferred to go his own road. And now I am to cure the error I did
+what I could to prevent."
+
+"I dare say, sir, it is not the first time in your experience."
+
+"Not by a great many. Clients, in general, have a great contempt for
+the notion that prevention is better than cure."
+
+"He can't hurt me," said Bassett, impatiently. "He was separately
+examined by two doctors, and all the provisions of the statute exactly
+complied with."
+
+"But that is no defense to this plaint. The statute forbids you to
+imprison an insane person without certain precautions; but it does not
+give you a right, under any circumstances, to imprison a sane man. That
+was decided in Butcher _v. _Butcher. The defense you rely on was
+pleaded as a second plea, and the plaintiff demurred to it directly.
+The question was argued before the full court, and the judges, led by
+the first lawyer of the age, decided unanimously that the provisions of
+the statute did not affect sane Englishmen and their rights under the
+common law. They ordered the plea to be struck off the record, and the
+case was reduced to a simple issue of sane or insane. Butcher _v._
+Butcher governs all these cases. Can you prove him insane? If not, you
+had better compound on any terms. In Butcher's case the jury gave 3,000
+pounds, and the plaintiff was a man of very inferior position to Sir
+Charles Bassett. Besides, the defendant, Butcher, had not persisted
+against evidence, as you have. They will award 5,000 pounds at least in
+this case."
+
+He took down a volume of reports, and showed them the case he had
+cited; and, on reading the unanimous decision of the judges, and the
+learning by which they were supported, Wheeler said at once: "Mr.
+Bassett, we might as well try to knock down St. Paul's with our heads
+as to go against this decision."
+
+They then settled to put in a single plea, that Sir Charles was insane
+at the time of his capture.
+
+This done, to gain time, Wheeler called on Sharpe, and, after several
+conferences, got the case compounded by an apology, a solemn
+retractation in writing, and the payment of four thousand pounds; his
+counsel assured him his client was very lucky to get off so cheap.
+
+Bassett paid the money, with the assistance of his wife's father: but
+it was a sickener; it broke his spirit, and even injured his health for
+some time.
+
+Sir Charles improved the village with the money, and gave a copy-hold
+tenement to each of the men Bassett had got imprisoned. So they and
+their sons and their grandsons lived rent free--no, now I think of it,
+they had to pay four pence a year to the Lord of the Manor.
+
+
+
+Defeated at every point, and at last punished severely, Richard Bassett
+fell into a deep dejection and solitary brooding of a sort very
+dangerous to the reason. He would not go out-of-doors to give his
+enemies a triumph. He used to sit by the fire and mutter, "Blow upon
+blow, blow upon blow. My poor boy will never be lord of Huntercombe
+now!" and so on.
+
+Wheeler pitied him, but could not rouse him. At last a person for whose
+narrow attainments and simplicity he had a profound, though, to do him
+justice, a civil contempt, ventured to his rescue. Mrs. Bassett went
+crying to her father, and told him she feared the worst if Richard's
+mind could not be diverted from the Huntercombe estate and his hatred
+of Sir Charles and Lady Bassett, which had been the great misfortune of
+her life and of his own, but nothing would ever eradicate it. Richard
+had great abilities; was a linguist, a wonderful accountant; could her
+dear father find him some profitable employment to divert his thoughts?
+
+"What! all in a moment?" said the old man. "Then I shall have to _buy_
+it; and if I go on like this I shall not have much to leave you."
+
+Having delivered this objection, he went up to London, and, having many
+friends in the City, and laying himself open to proposals, he got scent
+at last of a new insurance company that proposed also to deal in
+reversions, especially to entailed estates. By prompt purchase of
+shares in Bassett's name, and introducing Bassett himself, who, by
+special study, had a vast acquaintance with entailed estates, and a
+genius for arithmetical calculation, he managed somehow to get him into
+the direction, with a stipend, and a commission on all business he
+might introduce to the office.
+
+Bassett yielded sullenly, and now divided his time between London and
+the country.
+
+Wheeler worked with him on a share of commission, and they made some
+money between them.
+
+After the bitter lesson he had received Bassett vowed to himself he
+never would attack Sir Charles again unless he was sure of victory. For
+all this he hated him and Lady Bassett worse than ever, hated them to
+the death.
+
+He never moved a finger down at Huntercombe, nor said a word; but in
+London he employed a private inquirer to find out where Lady Bassett
+had lived at the time of her confinement, and whether any clergyman had
+visited her.
+
+The private inquirer could find out nothing, and Bassett, comparing his
+advertisements with his performance, dismissed him for a humbug.
+
+But the office brought him into contact with a great many medical men,
+one after another. He used to say to each stranger, with an insidious
+smile, "I think you once attended my cousin--Lady Bassett."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+SIR CHARLES and Lady Bassett, relieved of their cousin's active enmity,
+led a quiet life, and one that no longer furnished striking incidents.
+
+But dramatic incident is not everything: character and feeling show
+themselves in things that will not make pictures. Now it was precisely
+during this reposeful period that three personages of this story
+exhibited fresh traits of feeling, and also of character.
+
+To begin with Sir Charles Bassett. He came back from the asylum much
+altered in body and mind. Stopping his cigars had improved his stomach;
+working in the garden had increased his muscular power, and his cheeks
+were healthy, and a little sunburned, instead of sallow. His mind was
+also improved: contemplation of insane persons had set him by a natural
+recoil to study self-control. He had returned a philosopher. No small
+thing could irritate him now. So far his character was elevated.
+
+Lady Bassett was much the same as before, except a certain
+restlessness. She wanted to be told every day, or twice a day, that her
+husband was happy; and, although he was visibly so, yet, as he was
+quiet over it, she used to be always asking him if he was happy. This
+the reader must interpret as he pleases.
+
+Mary Gosport gave herself airs. Respectful to her master and mistress,
+but not so tolerant of chaff in the kitchen as she used to be. Made an
+example of one girl, who threw a doubt on her marriage. Complained to
+Lady Bassett, affected to fret, and the girl was dismissed.
+
+She turned singer. She had always sung psalms in church, but never a
+profane note in the house. Now she took to singing over her nursling;
+she had a voice of prodigious power and mellowness, and, provided she
+was not asked, would sing lullabies and nursery rhymes from another
+county that ravished the hearer. Horsemen have been known to stop in
+the road to hear her sing through an open window of Huntercombe, two
+hundred yards off.
+
+Old Mr. Meyrick, a farmer well-to-do, fascinated by Mary Gosport's
+singing, asked her to be his housekeeper when she should have done
+nursing her charge.
+
+She laughed in his face.
+
+A fanatic who was staying with Sir Charles Bassett offered her three
+years' education in Do, Ra, Mi, Fa, preparatory to singing at the
+opera.
+
+Declined without thanks.
+
+Mr. Drake, after hovering shyly, at last found courage to reproach her
+for deserting him and marrying a sailor.
+
+"Teach you not to shilly-shally," said she. "Beauty won't go a-begging.
+Mind you look sharper next time."
+
+This dialogue, being held in the kitchen, gave the women some amusement
+at the young farmer's expense.
+
+One day Mr. Richard Bassett, from motives of pure affection no doubt,
+not curiosity, desired mightily to inspect Mr. Bassett, aged eight
+months and two days.
+
+So, in his usual wily way, he wrote to Mrs. Gosport, asking her, for
+old acquaintance' sake, to meet him in the meadow at the end of the
+lawn. This meadow belonged to Sir Charles, but Richard Bassett had a
+right of way through it, and could step into it by a postern, as Mary
+could by an iron gate.
+
+He asked her to come at eleven o'clock, because at that hour he
+observed she walked on the lawn with her charge.
+
+Mary Gosport came to the tryst, but without Mr. Bassett.
+
+Richard was very polite; she cold, taciturn, observant.
+
+At last he said, "But where's the little heir?"
+
+She flew at him directly. "It is him you wanted, not me. Did you think
+I'd bring him here--for you to kill him?"
+
+"Come, I say."
+
+"Ay, you'd kill him if you had a chance. But you never shall. Or if you
+didn't kill him, you'd cast the evil-eye on him, for you are well known
+to have the evil-eye. No; he shall outlive thee and thine, and be lord
+of these here manors when thou is gone to hell, thou villain."
+
+Mr. Richard Bassett turned pale, but did the wisest thing he could--put
+his hands in his pockets, and walked into his own premises, followed,
+however, by Mary Gosport, who stormed at him till he shut his postern
+in her face.
+
+She stood there trembling for a little while, then walked away, crying.
+
+But having a mind like running water, she was soon seated on a garden
+chair, singing over her nursling like a mavis: she had delivered him to
+Millar while she went to speak her mind to her old lover.
+
+As for Richard Bassett, he was theory-bitten, and so turned every thing
+one way. To be sure, as long as the woman's glaring eyes and face
+distorted by passion were before him, he interpreted her words simply;
+but when he thought the matter over he said to himself, "The evil-eye!
+That is all bosh; the girl is in Lady Bassett's secrets; and I am not
+to see young master: some day I shall know the reason why."
+
+
+
+Sir Charles Bassett now belonged to the tribe of clucking cocks quite
+as much as his cousin had ever done; only Sir Charles had the good
+taste to confine his clucks to his own first-floor. Here, to be sure,
+he richly indemnified himself for his self-denial abroad. He sat for
+hours at a time watching the boy on the ground at his knee, or in his
+nurse's arms.
+
+And while he watched the infant with undisguised delight, Lady Bassett
+would watch _him_ with a sort of furtive and timid complacency.
+
+Yet at times she suffered from twinges of jealousy--a new complaint
+with her.
+
+I think I have mentioned that Sir Charles, at first, was annoyed at
+seeing his son and heir nursed by a woman of low condition. Well, he
+got over that feeling by degrees, and, as soon as he did get over it,
+his sentiments took quite an opposite turn. A woman for whom he did
+very little, in his opinion--since what, in Heaven's name, were a
+servant's wages?--he saw that woman do something great for him; saw her
+nourish his son and heir from her own veins; the child had no other
+nurture; yet the father saw him bloom and thrive, and grow
+surprisingly.
+
+A weak observer, or a less enthusiastic parent, might have overlooked
+all this; but Sir Charles had naturally an observant eye and an
+analytical mind, and this had been suddenly but effectually developed
+by the asylum and his correspondence with Rolfe.
+
+He watched the nurse, then, and her maternal acts with a curious and
+grateful eye, and a certain reverence for her power.
+
+He observed, too, that his child reacted on the woman: she had never
+sung in the house before; now she sang ravishingly--sang, in low,
+mellow, yet sonorous notes, some ditties that had lulled mediaeval
+barons in their cradles.
+
+And what had made her vocal made her beautiful at times.
+
+Before, she had appeared to him a handsome girl, with the hardish look
+of the lower classes; but now, when she sat in a sunny window, and
+lowered her black lashes on her nursling, with the mixed and delicious
+smile of an exuberant nurse relieving and relieved, she was soft,
+poetical, sculptorial, maternal, womanly.
+
+This species of contemplation, though half philosophical, half
+paternal, and quite innocent, gave Lady Bassett some severe pangs.
+
+She hid them, however; only she bided her time, and then suggested the
+propriety of weaning baby.
+
+But Mrs. Gosport got Sir Charles's ear, and told him what magnificent
+children they reared in her village by not weaning infants till they
+were eighteen months old or so.
+
+By this means, and by crying to Lady Bassett, and representing her
+desolate condition with a husband at sea, she obtained a reprieve,
+coupled, however, with a good-humored assurance from Sir Charles that
+she was the greatest baby of the two.
+
+When the inevitable hour approached that was to dethrone her she took
+to reading the papers, and one day she read of a disastrous wreck, the
+_Carbrea Castle_--only seven saved out of a crew of twenty-three. She
+read the details carefully, and two days afterward she received a
+letter written by a shipmate of Mr. Gosport's, in a handwriting not
+very unlike her own, relating the sad wreck of the _Carbrea Castle,_
+and the loss of several good sailors, James Gosport for one.
+
+Then the house was filled with the wailing and weeping of the bereaved
+widow; and at last came consolers and raised doubts; but then somebody
+remembered to have seen the loss of that very ship in the paper. The
+paper was found, and the fatal truth was at once established.
+
+Upon this Mr. Bassett was weaned as quickly as possible, and the widow
+clothed in black at Lady Bassett's expense, and everything in reason
+done to pet her and console her.
+
+But she cried bitterly, and said she would throw herself into the sea
+and follow her husband.
+
+Huntercombe was nowhere near the coast.
+
+At last, however, she relented, and concluded to remain on earth as
+dry-nurse to Mr. Bassett.
+
+Sir Charles did not approve this: it seemed unreasonable to turn a
+wet-nurse into a dry-nurse when that office was already occupied by a
+person her senior and more experienced.
+
+Lady Bassett agreed with him, but shrugged her shoulders and said, "Two
+nurses will not hurt, and I suspect it will not be for long. Mary does
+not feel her husband's loss one bit."
+
+"Surely you are mistaken. She howls loud enough."
+
+"Too loud--much," said Lady Bassett, dryly.
+
+Her perspicuity was not deceived. In a very short time Mr. Meyrick,
+unable to get her for his housekeeper, offered her marriage.
+
+"What!" said she, "and James Gosport not dead a month?"
+
+"Say the word now, and take your own time," said he.
+
+"Well, I might do worse," said she.
+
+About six weeks after this Drake came about her, and in tender tones of
+consolation suggested that it is much better for a pretty girl to marry
+one who plows the land than one who plows the sea.
+
+"That is true," said Mary, with a sigh; "I have found it to my sorrow."
+
+After this Drake played a bit with her, and then relented, and one
+evening offered her marriage, expecting her to jump eagerly at his
+offer.
+
+"You be too late, young man," said she, coolly; "I'm bespoke."
+
+"Doan't ye say that! How can ye be bespoke? Why, t'other hain't been
+dead four months yet."
+
+"What o' that? This one spoke for me within a week. Why, our banns are
+to be cried to-morrow; come to church and hear 'em; that will learn ye
+not to shilly-shally so next time."
+
+"Next time!" cried Drake, half blubbering; then, with a sudden roar,
+"what, be you coming to market again, arter this?"
+
+"Like enough: he is a deal older than I be. 'Tis Mr. Meyrick, if ye
+must know."
+
+Now Mr. Meyrick was well-to-do, and so Drake was taken aback.
+
+"Mr. Meyrick!" said he, and turned suddenly respectful.
+
+But presently a view of a rich widow flitted before his eye.
+
+"Well," said he, "you shan't throw it in my teeth again as I speak too
+late. I ask you now, and no time lost."
+
+"What! am I to stop my banns, and jilt Farmer Meyrick for _thee?"_
+
+"Nay, nay. But I mean I'll marry you, if you'll marry me, as soon as
+ever the breath is out of that dall'd old hunks's body."
+
+"Well, well, Will Drake," said Mary, gravely, "if I do outlive this
+one--and you bain't married long afore--and if you keeps in the same
+mind as you be now--and lets me know it in good time--I'll see about
+it."
+
+She gave a flounce that made her petticoats whisk like a mare's tail,
+and off to the kitchen, where she related the dialogue with an
+appropriate reflection, the company containing several of either sex.
+"Dilly-Dally and Shilly-Shally, they belongs to us as women be. I hate
+and despise a man as can't make up his mind in half a minnut."
+
+So the widow Gosport became Mrs. Meyrick, and lived in a farmhouse not
+quite a mile from the Hall.
+
+She used often to come to the Hall, and take a peep at her lamb: this
+was the name she gave Mr. Bassett long after he had ceased to be a
+child.
+
+
+
+About four years after the triumphant return to Huntercombe, Lady
+Bassett conceived a sudden coldness toward the little boy, though he
+was universally admired.
+
+She concealed this sentiment from Sir Charles, but not from the female
+servants: and, from one to another, at last it came round to Sir
+Charles. He disbelieved it utterly at first; but, the hint having been
+given him, he paid attention, and discovered there was, at all events,
+some truth in it.
+
+He awaited his opportunity and remonstrated: "My dear Bella, am I
+mistaken, or do I really observe a falling off in your tenderness for
+your child?"
+
+Lady Bassett looked this way and that, as if she meditated flight, but
+at last she resigned herself, and said, "Yes, dear Charles; my heart is
+quite cold to him."
+
+"Good Heavens, Bella! But why? Is not this the same little angel that
+came to our help in trouble, that comforted me even before his birth,
+when my mind was morbid, to say the least?"
+
+"I suppose he is the same," said she, in a tone impossible to convey by
+description of mine.
+
+"That is a strange answer."
+
+"If he is, _I_ am changed." And this she said doggedly and unlike
+herself.
+
+"What!" said Sir Charles, very gravely, and with a sort of awe: "can a
+woman withdraw her affection from her child, her innocent child? If so,
+my turn may come next."
+
+"Oh, Charles! Charles!" and the tears began to well.
+
+"Why, who can be secure after this? What is so stable as a mother's
+love? If that is not rooted too deep for gusts of caprice to blow it
+away, in Heaven's name, what is?"
+
+No answer to that but tears.
+
+Sir Charles looked at her very long, attentively, and seriously, and
+said not another syllable.
+
+But his dropping so suddenly a subject of this importance was rather
+suspicious, and Lady Bassett was too shrewd not to see that.
+
+They watched each other.
+
+But with this difference: Sir Charles could not conceal his anxiety,
+whereas the lady appeared quite tranquil.
+
+One day Sir Charles said, cheerfully, "Who do you think dines here
+to-morrow, and stays all night? Dr. Suaby."
+
+"By invitation, dear?" asked Lady Bassett, quietly.
+
+Sir Charles colored a little, and said, quietly, "Yes."
+
+Lady Bassett made no remark, and it was impossible to tell by her face
+whether the visit was agreeable or not.
+
+Some time afterward, however, she said, "Whom shall I ask to meet Dr.
+Suaby?"
+
+"Nobody, for Heaven's sake!"
+
+"Will not that be dull for him?"
+
+"I hope not."
+
+"You will have plenty to say to him, eh, darling?"
+
+"We never yet lacked topics. Whether or no, his is a mind I choose to
+drink neat."
+
+"Drink him neat?"
+
+"Undiluted with rural minds."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+She uttered that monosyllable very dryly, and said no more.
+
+Dr. Suaby came next day, and dined with them, and Lady Bassett was
+charming; but rather earlier than usual she said, "Now I am sure you
+and Dr. Suaby must have many things to talk about," and retired,
+casting back an arch, and almost a cunning smile.
+
+The door closed on her, the smile fled, and a somber look of care and
+suffering took its place.
+
+Sir Charles entered at once on what was next his heart, told Dr. Suaby
+he was in some anxiety, and asked him if he had observed anything in
+Lady Bassett.
+
+"Nothing new," said Dr. Suaby; "charming as ever."
+
+Then Sir Charles confided to Dr. Suaby, in terms of deep feeling and
+anxiety, what I have coldly told the reader.
+
+Dr. Suaby looked a little grave, and took time to think before he
+spoke.
+
+At last he delivered an opinion, of which this is the substance, though
+not the exact words.
+
+"It is sudden and unnatural, and I cannot say it does not partake of
+mental aberration. If the patient was a man I should fear the most
+serious results; but here we have to take into account the patient's
+sex, her nature, and her present condition. Lady Bassett has always
+appeared to me a very remarkable woman. She has no mediocrity in
+anything; understanding keen, perception wonderfully swift, heart large
+and sensitive, nerves high strung, sensibilities acute. A person of her
+sex, tuned so high as this, is always subject, more or less, to
+hysteria. It is controlled by her intelligence and spirit; but she is
+now, for the time being, in a physical condition that has often
+deranged less sensitive women than she is. I believe this about the boy
+to be a hysterical delusion, which will pass away when her next child
+is born. That is to say, she will probably ignore her first-born, and
+everything else, for a time; but these caprices, springing in reality
+from the body rather than the mind, cannot endure forever. When she has
+several grown-up children the first-born will be the favorite. It comes
+to that at last, my good friend."
+
+"These are the words of wisdom," said Sir Charles; "God bless you for
+them!"
+
+After a while he said, "Then what you advise is simply--patience?"
+
+"No, I don't say that. With such a large house as this, and your
+resources, you might easily separate them before the delusion grows any
+farther. Why risk a calamity?"
+
+"A calamity?" and Sir Charles began to tremble.
+
+"She is only cold to the child as yet. She might go farther, and fancy
+she hated it. _Obsta principiis:_ that is my motto. Not that I really
+think, for a moment, the child is in danger. Lady Bassett has mind to
+control her nerves with; but why run the shadow of a chance?"
+
+"I will not run the shadow of a chance," said Sir Charles, resolutely;
+"let us come upstairs: my decision is taken."
+
+The very next day Sir Charles called on Mrs. Meyrick, and asked if he
+could come to any arrangement with her to lodge Mr. Bassett and his
+nurse under her roof. "The boy wants change of air," said he.
+
+Mrs. Meyrick jumped at the proposal, but declined all terms. "No," said
+she, "the child I have suckled shall never pay me for his lodging. Why
+should he, sir, when I'd pay _you_ to let him come, if I wasn't afeard
+of offending you?"
+
+Sir Charles was touched at this, and, being a gentleman of tact, said,
+"You are very good: well, then, I must remain your debtor for the
+present."
+
+He then took his leave, but she walked with him a few yards, just as
+far as the wicket, gate that separated her little front garden from the
+high-road.
+
+"I hope," said she, "my lady will come and see me when my lamb is with
+me; a sight of her would be good for sore eyes. She have never been
+here but once, and then she did not get out of her carriage."
+
+"Humph!" said Sir Charles, apologetically; "she seldom goes out now;
+you understand."
+
+"Oh, I've heard, sir; and I do put up my prayers for her; for my lady
+has been a good friend to me, sir, and if you will believe me, I often
+sets here and longs for a sight of her, and her sweet eyes, and her
+hair like sunshine, that I've had in my hand so often. Well, sir, I
+hope it will be a girl this time, a little girl with golden hair;
+that's what I wants this time. They'll be the prettiest pair in
+England."
+
+"With all my heart," said Sir Charles; "girl or boy, I don't care
+which; but I'd give a few thousands if it was here, and the mother
+safe."
+
+He hurried away, ashamed of having uttered the feelings of his heart to
+a farmer's wife. To avoid discussion, he sent Mrs. Millar and the boy
+off all in a hurry, and then told Lady Bassett what he had done.
+
+She appeared much distressed at that, and asked what she had done.
+
+He soothed her, and said she was not to blarne at all; and she must not
+blame him either. He had done it for the best.
+
+"After all, you are the master," said she, submissively.
+
+"I am," said he, "and men will be tyrants, you know."
+
+Then she flung her arm round her tyrant's neck, and there was an end of
+the discussion.
+
+One day he inquired for her, and heard, to his no small satisfaction,
+she had driven to Mrs. Meyrick's, with a box of things for Mr. Bassett.
+She stayed at the farmhouse all day, and Sir Charles felt sure he had
+done the right thing.
+
+Mrs. Meyrick found out to her cost the difference between a nursling
+and a rampageous little boy.
+
+Her lamb, as she called him, was now a young monkey, vigorous, active,
+restless, and, unfortunately, as strong on his pins as most boys of
+six. It took two women to look after him, and smart ones too, so
+swiftly did he dash off into some mischief or other. At last Mrs.
+Meyrick simplified matters in some degree by locking the large gate,
+and even the small wicket, and ordering all the farm people and
+milkmaids to keep an eye on him, and bring him straight to her if he
+should stray, for he seemed to hate in-doors. Never was such a boy.
+
+Nevertheless, such as had not the care of him admired the child for his
+beauty and his assurance. He seemed to regard the whole human race as
+one family, of which he was the rising head. The moment he caught sight
+of a human being he dashed at it and into conversation by one unbroken
+movement.
+
+Now children in general are too apt to hide their intellectual
+treasures from strangers by shyness.
+
+One day this ready converser was standing on the steps of the house,
+when a gentleman came to the wicket gate, and looked over into the
+garden.
+
+Young master darted to the gate directly, and getting his foot on the
+lowest bar and his hands on the spikes, gave tongue.
+
+"Who are you? _I'm_ Mr. Bassett. I don't live here; I'm only staying.
+My home is Huncom Hall. I'm to have it for myself when papa dies. I
+didn't know dat till I come here. How old are you? I'm half past
+four--"
+
+A loud scream, a swift rustle, and Mr. Bassett was clutched up by Mrs.
+Meyrick, who snatched him away with a wild glance of terror and
+defiance, and bore him swiftly into the house, with words ringing in
+her ears that cost Mr. Bassett dear, he being the only person she could
+punish. She sat down on a bench, flung young master across her knee in
+a minute, and bestowed such a smacking on him as far transcended his
+wildest dreams of the weight, power, and pertinacity of the human arm.
+
+The words Richard Bassett had shot her flying with were these:
+
+"Too late! I've SEEN THE PARSON'S BRAT."
+
+
+
+Richard Bassett mounted his horse and rode over to Wheeler, for he
+could no longer wheedle the man of law over to Highmore, and I will
+very briefly state why.
+
+1st. About three years ago an old lady, one of his few clients, left
+him three thousand pounds, just reward of a very little law and a vast
+deal of gossip.
+
+2d. The head solicitor of the place got old and wanted a partner.
+Wheeler bought himself in, and thenceforth took his share of a good
+business, and by his energy enlarged it, though he never could found
+one for himself.
+
+3d. He married a wife.
+
+4th. She was a pretty woman, and blessed with jealousy of a just and
+impartial nature: she was equally jealous of women, men, books,
+business--anything that took her husband from her.
+
+No more sleeping out at Highmore; no more protracted potations; no more
+bachelor tricks for Wheeler. He still valued his old client and
+welcomed him; but the venue was changed, so to speak.
+
+Richard Bassett was kept waiting in the outer office; but when he did
+get in he easily prevailed on Wheeler to send the next client or two to
+his partner, and give him a full hearing.
+
+Then he opened his business. "Well," said he, "I've seen him at last!"
+
+"Seen him? seen whom?"
+
+"The boy they have set up to rob my boy of the estate. I've seen him,
+Wheeler, seen him close; and HE'S AS BLACK AS MY HAT."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+WHEELER, instead of being thunder-stricken, said quietly, "Oh, is he?
+Well?"
+
+"Sir Charles is lighter than I am: Lady Bassett has a skin like satin,
+and red hair."
+
+"Red! say auburn gilt. I never saw such lovely hair."
+
+"Well," said Richard, impatiently, "then the boy has eyes like sloes,
+and a brown skin, like an Italian, and black hair almost; it will be
+quite."
+
+"Well," said Wheeler, "it is not so very uncommon for a dark child to
+be born of fair parents, or _vice versa._ I once saw an urchin that was
+like neither father nor mother, but the image of his father's
+grandfather, that died eighty years before he was born. They used to
+hold him up to the portrait."
+
+Said Bassett, "Will you admit that it is uncommon?"
+
+"Not so uncommon as for a high-bred lady, living in the country, and
+adored by her husband, to trifle with her marriage vow, for that is
+what you are driving at."
+
+"Then we have to decide between two improbabilities: will you grant me
+that, Mr. Wheeler?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then suppose I can prove fact upon fact, and coincidence upon
+coincidence, all tending one way! Are you so prejudiced that nothing
+will convince you?"
+
+"No. But it will take a great deal: that lady's face is full of purity,
+and she fought us like one who loved her husband."
+
+_"Fronti nulla fides:_ and as for her fighting, her infidelity was the
+weapon she defeated us with. Will you hear me?"
+
+"Yes, yes; but pray stick to facts, and not conjectures."
+
+"Then don't interrupt me with childish arguments:
+
+_"Fact 1._--Both reputed parents fair; the boy as black as the ace of
+spades.
+
+_"Fact 2._--A handsome young fellow was always buzzing about her
+ladyship, and he was a parson, and ladies are remarkably fond of
+parsons.
+
+_"Fact 3._--This parson was of Italian breed, dark, like the boy.
+
+_"Fact 4._--This dark young man left Huntercombe one week, and my lady
+left it the next, and they were both in the city of Bath at one time.
+
+_"Fact 5._--The lady went from Bath to London. The dark young man went
+from Bath to London."
+
+"None of this is new to me," said Wheeler, quietly.
+
+"No; but it is the rule, in estimating coincidences, that each fresh
+one multiplies the value of the others. Now the boy looking so Italian
+is a new coincidence, and so is what I am going to tell you--at last I
+have found the medical man who attended Lady Bassett in London."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Yes, sir; and I have learned _Fact 6._--Her ladyship rented a house,
+but hired no servants, and engaged no nurse. She had no attendant but a
+lady's maid, no servant but a sort of charwoman.
+
+_"Fact 7._--She dismissed this doctor unusually soon, and gave him a
+very large fee.
+
+_"Fact 8._--She concealed her address from her husband."
+
+"Oh! can you prove that?"
+
+"Certainly. Sir Charles came up to town, and had to hunt for her, came
+to this very medical man, and asked for the address his wife had not
+given him; but lo! when he got there the bird was flown.
+
+_"Fact 9._--Following the same system of concealment, my lady levanted
+from London within ten days of her confinement.
+
+"Now put all these coincidences together. Don't you see that she had a
+lover, and that he was about her in London and other places? Stop!
+_Fact 10._--Those two were married for years, and had no child but this
+equivocal one; and now four years and a half have passed, during all
+which time they have had none, and the young parson has been abroad
+during that period."
+
+Wheeler was staggered and perplexed by this artful array of
+coincidences.
+
+"Now advise me," said Bassett.
+
+"It is not so easy. Of course if Sir Charles was to die, you could
+claim the estate, and give them a great deal of pain and annoyance; but
+the burden of proof would always rest on you. My advice is not to
+breathe a syllable of this; but get a good detective, and push your
+inquiries a little further among house agents, and the women they put
+into houses; find that charwoman, and see if you can pick up anything
+more."
+
+"Do you know such a thing as an able detective?"
+
+"I know one that will work if I instruct him."
+
+"Instruct him, then."
+
+"I will."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+LADY BASSETT, as her time of trial drew near, became despondent.
+
+She spoke of the future, and tried to pierce it; and in all these
+little loving speculations and anxieties there was no longer any
+mention of herself.
+
+This meant that she feared her husband was about to lose her. I put the
+fear in the very form it took in that gentle breast.
+
+Possessed with this dread, so natural to her situation, she set her
+house in order, and left her little legacies of clothes and jewels,
+without the help of a lawyer; for Sir Charles, she knew, would respect
+her lightest wish.
+
+To him she left her all, except these trifles, and, above all--a
+manuscript book. It was the history of her wedded life. Not the bare
+outward history; but such a record of a sensitive woman's heart as no
+male writer's pen can approach.
+
+It was the nature of her face and her tongue to conceal; but here, on
+this paper, she laid bare her heart; here her very subtlety operated,
+not to hide, but to dissect herself and her motives.
+
+But oh, what it cost her to pen this faithful record of her love, her
+trials, her doubts, her perplexities, her agonies, her temptations, and
+her crime! Often she laid down the pen, and hid her face in her hands.
+Often the scalding tears ran down that scarlet face. Often she writhed
+at her desk, and wrote on, sighing and moaning. Yet she persevered to
+the end. It was the grave that gave her the power. "When he reads
+this," she said, "I shall be in my tomb. Men make excuses for the dead.
+My Charles will forgive me when I am gone. He will know I loved him to
+desperation."
+
+It took her many days to write; it was quite a thick quarto; so much
+may a woman feel in a year or two; and, need I say that, to the reader
+of that volume, the mystery of her conduct was all made clear as
+daylight; clearer far, as regards the revelation of mind and feeling,
+than I, dealer in broad facts, shall ever make it, for want of a
+woman's mental microscope and delicate brush.
+
+And when this record was finished, she wrapped it in paper, and sealed
+it with many seals, and wrote on it,
+
+"Only for my husband's eye. From her who loved him not wisely, But too
+well."
+
+And she took other means that even the superscription should never be
+seen of any other eye but his. It was some little comfort to her, when
+the book was written.
+
+She never prayed to live. But she used to pray, fervently, piteously,
+that her child might live, and be a comfort and joy to his father.
+
+
+
+The person employed by Wheeler discovered the house agent, and the
+woman he had employed.
+
+But these added nothing to the evidence Bassett had collected.
+
+At last, however, this woman, under the influence of a promised reward,
+discovered a person who was likely to know more about the matter--viz.,
+the woman who was in the house with Lady Bassett at the very time.
+
+But this woman scented gold directly: so she held mysterious language;
+declined to say a word to the officer; but intimated that she knew a
+great deal, and that the matter was, in truth, well worth looking into,
+and she could tell some strange tales, if it was worth her while.
+
+This information was sent to Bassett; he replied that the woman only
+wanted money for her intelligence, and he did not blame her; he would
+see her next time he went to town, and felt sure she would complete his
+chain of evidence. This put Richard Bassett into extravagant spirits.
+He danced his little boy on his knee, and said, "I'll run this little
+horse against the parson's brat; five to one, and no takers."
+
+Indeed, his exultation was so loud and extravagant that it jarred on
+gentle Mrs. Bassett. As for Jessie, the Scotch servant, she shook her
+head, and said the master was fey.
+
+In the morning he started for London, still so exuberant and excited
+that the Scotch woman implored her mistress not to let him go; there
+would be an accident on the railway, or something. But Mrs. Bassett
+knew her husband too well to interfere with his journeys.
+
+Before he drove off he demanded his little boy.
+
+"He must kiss me," said he, "for I'm going to work for him. D'ye hear
+that, Jane? This day makes him heir of Huntercombe and Bassett."
+
+The nurse brought word that Master Bassett was not very well this
+morning.
+
+"Let us look at him," said Bassett.
+
+He got out of his gig, and went to the nursery. He found his little boy
+had a dry cough, with a little flushing.
+
+"It is not much," said he; "but I'll send the doctor over from the
+town."
+
+He did so, and himself proceeded up to London.
+
+The doctor came, and finding the boy labored in breathing, administered
+a full dose of ipecacuanha. This relieved the child for the time; but
+about four in the afternoon he was distressed again, and began to cough
+with a peculiar grating sound.
+
+Then there was a cry of dismay--"The croup!" The doctor was gone for,
+and a letter posted to Richard Bassett, urging him to come back
+directly.
+
+The doctor tried everything, even mercury, but could not check the
+fatal discharge; it stiffened into a still more fatal membrane.
+
+When Bassett returned next afternoon, in great alarm, he found the poor
+child thrusting its fingers into its mouth, in a vain attempt to free
+the deadly obstruction.
+
+A warm bath and strong emetics were now administered, and great relief
+obtained. The patient even ate and drank, and asked leave to get up and
+play with a new toy he had. But, as often happens in this disorder, a
+severe relapse soon came, with a spasm of the glottis so violent and
+prolonged that the patient at last resigned the struggle. Then pain
+ceased forever; the heavenly smile came; the breath went; and nothing
+was left in the little white bed but a fair piece of tinted clay, that
+must return to the dust, and carry thither all the pride, the hopes,
+the boasts of the stricken father, who had schemed, and planned, and
+counted without Him in whose hands are the issues of life and death.
+
+As for the child himself, his lot was a happy one, if we could but see
+what the world is really worth. He was always a bright child, that
+never cried, nor complained: his first trouble was his last; one day's
+pain, then bliss eternal: he never got poisoned by his father's spirit
+of hate, but loved and was beloved during his little lifetime; and,
+dying, he passed from his Noah's ark to an inheritance a thousand times
+richer than Huntercombe, Bassett, and all his cousin's lands.
+
+
+
+The little grave was dug, the bell tolled, and a man bowed double with
+grief saw his child and his ambition laid in the dust.
+
+Lady Bassett heard the bell tolled, and spoke but two words: "Poor
+woman!"
+
+She might well say so. Mrs. Bassett was in the same condition as
+herself, yet this heavy blow must fall on her.
+
+As for Richard Bassett, he sat at home, bowed down and stupid with
+grief.
+
+Wheeler came one day to console him; but, at the sight of him,
+refrained from idle words. He sat down by him for an hour in silence.
+Then he got up and said, "Good-by."
+
+"Thank you, old friend, for not insulting me," said Bassett, in a
+broken voice.
+
+Wheeler took his hand, and turned away his head, and so went away, with
+a tear in his eye.
+
+A fortnight after this he came again, and found Bassett in the same
+attitude, but not in the same leaden stupor. On the contrary, he was in
+a state of tremor; he had lost, under the late blow, the sanguine mind
+that used to carry him through everything.
+
+The doctor was upstairs, and his wife's fate trembled in the balance.
+
+"Stay by me," said he, "for all my nerve is gone. I'm afraid I shall
+lose her; for I have just begun to value her; and that is how God deals
+with his creatures--the merciful God, as they call him."
+
+Wheeler thought it rather hard God Almighty should be blamed because
+Dick Bassett had taken eight years to find out his wife's merit; but he
+forbore to say so. He said kindly that he would stay.
+
+Now while they sat in trying suspense the church-bells struck up a
+merry peal.
+
+Bassett started violently and his eyes gave a strange glare. "That's
+the other!" said he; for he had heard about Lady Bassett by this time.
+
+Then he turned pale. "They ring for him: then they are sure to toll for
+me."
+
+This foreboding was natural enough in a man so blinded by egotism as to
+fancy that all creation, and the Creator himself, must take a side in
+Bassett _v._ Bassett.
+
+Nevertheless, events did not justify that foreboding. The bells had
+scarcely done ringing for the happy event at Huntercombe, when joyful
+feet were heard running on the stairs; joyful voices clashed together
+in the passage, and in came a female servant with joyful tidings. Mrs.
+Bassett was safe, and the child in the world. "The loveliest little
+girl you ever saw!"
+
+"A girl!" cried Richard Bassett with contemptuous amazement. Even his
+melancholy forebodings had not gone that length. "And what have they
+got at Huntercombe?"
+
+"Oh, it is a boy, sir, there."
+
+"Of course."
+
+The ringers heard, and sent one of their number to ask him if they
+should ring.
+
+"What for?" asked Bassett with a nasty glittering eye; and then with
+sudden fury he seized a large piece of wood from the basket to fling at
+his insulter. "I'll teach you to come and mock me."
+
+The ringer vanished, ducking.
+
+"Gently," said Wheeler, "gently."
+
+Bassett chucked the wood back into the basket, and sat down gloomily,
+saying, "Then how dare he come and talk about ringing bells for a girl?
+To think that I should have all this fright, and my wife all this
+trouble--for a girl!"
+
+
+
+It was no time to talk of business then; but about a fortnight
+afterward Wheeler said, "I took the detective off, to save you
+expense."
+
+"Quite right," said Bassett, wearily.
+
+"I gave you the woman's address; so the matter is in your hands now, I
+consider."
+
+"Yes," said Bassett, wearily; "Move no further in it."
+
+"Certainly not; and, frankly, I should be glad to see you abandon it."
+
+"I _have_ abandoned it. Why should I stir the mud now? I and mine are
+thrown out forever; the only question is, shall a son of Sir Charles or
+the parson's son inherit? I'm for the wrongful heir. Ay," he cried,
+starting up, and beating the air with his fists in sudden fury, "since
+the right Bassetts are never to have it, let the wrong Bassetts be
+thrown out, at all events; I'm on my back, but Sir Charles is no better
+off; a bastard will succeed him, thanks to that cursed woman who
+defeated _me."_
+
+This turn took Wheeler by surprise. It also gave him real pain.
+"Bassett," said he, "I pity you. What sort of a life has yours been for
+the last eight years? Yet, when there's no fuel left for war and
+hatred, you blow the embers. You are incurable."
+
+"I am," said Richard. "I'll hate those two with my last breath and
+curse them in my last prayer."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+LADY BASSETT'S forebodings, like most of our insights into the future,
+were confuted by the event.
+
+She became the happy mother of a flaxen-haired boy. She insisted on
+nursing him herself; and the experienced persons who attended her
+raised no objection.
+
+In connection with this she gave Sir Charles a peck, not very severe,
+but sudden, and remarkable as the only one on record.
+
+He was contemplating her and her nursling with the deepest affection,
+and happened to say, "My own Bella, what delight it gives me to see
+you!"
+
+"Yes," said she, "we will have only one mother this time, will we, my
+darling? and it shall be Me." Then suddenly, turning her head like a
+snake, "Oh, I saw the looks you gave that woman!"
+
+This was the famous peck; administered in return for a look that he had
+bestowed on Mary Gosport not more than five years ago.
+
+Sir Charles would, doubtless, have bled to death on the spot, but
+either he had never been aware how he looked, or time and business had
+obliterated the impression, for he was unaffectedly puzzled, and said,
+"What woman do you mean, dear?"
+
+"No matter, darling," said Lady Bassett, who had already repented her
+dire severity: "all I say is that a nurse is a rival I could not endure
+now; and another thing, I do believe those wet-nurses give their
+disposition to the child: it is dreadful to think of."
+
+"Well, if so, baby is safe. He will be the most amiable boy in
+England."
+
+"He shall be more amiable than I am--scolding my husband of husbands;"
+and she leaned toward him, baby and all, for a kiss from his lips.
+
+We say at school "Seniores priores"--let favor go by seniority; but
+where babies adorn the scene, it is "juniores priores" with that sex to
+which the very young are confided.
+
+To this rule, as might be expected, Lady Bassett furnished no
+exception; she was absorbed in baby, and trusted Mr. Bassett a good
+deal to his attendant, who bore an excellent character for care and
+attention.
+
+Now Mr. Bassett was strong on his pins and in his will, and his
+nurse-maid, after all, was young; so he used to take his walks nearly
+every day to Mrs. Meyrick's: she petted him enough, and spoiled him in
+every way, while the nurse-maid was flirting with the farm-servants out
+of sight.
+
+Sir Charles Bassett was devoted to the boy, and used always to have him
+to his study in the morning, and to the drawing-room after dinner, when
+the party was small, and that happened much oftener now than
+heretofore; but at other hours he did not look after him, being a
+business man, and considering him at that age to be under his mother's
+care.
+
+One day the only guest was Mr. Rolfe; he was staying in the house for
+three days, upon a condition suggested by himself--viz., that he might
+enjoy his friends' society in peace and comfort, and not be set to roll
+the stone of conversation up some young lady's back, and obtain
+monosyllables in reply, faintly lisped amid a clatter of fourteen
+knives and forks. As he would not leave his writing-table on any milder
+terms, they took him on these.
+
+After dinner in came Mr. Bassett, erect, and a proud nurse with little
+Compton, just able to hold his nurse's gown and toddle.
+
+Rolfe did not care for small children; he just glanced at the angelic,
+fair-haired infant, but his admiring gaze rested on the elder boy.
+
+"Why, what is here--an Oriental prince?"
+
+The boy ran to him directly. "Who are you?"
+
+"Rolfe the writer. Who are you--the Gipsy King?"
+
+"No; but I am very fond of gypsies. I'm _Mister_ Bassett; and when papa
+dies I shall be Sir Charles Bassett."
+
+Sir Charles laughed at this with paternal fatuity, especially as the
+boy's name happened to be Reginald Francis, after his grandfather.
+
+Rolfe smiled satirically, for these little speeches from children did
+much to reconcile him to his lot.
+
+"Meantime," said he, "let us feed off him; for it may be forty years
+before we can dance over his grave. First let us see what is the
+unwholesomest thing on the table."
+
+He rose, and to the infinite delight of Mr. Bassett, and even of Master
+Compton, who pointed and crowed from his mother's lap, he got up on his
+chair, and put on a pair of spectacles to look.
+
+"Eureka!" said he; "behold that dish by Lady Bassett; those are
+_marrons glaces;_ fetch them here, and let us go in for a fit of the
+gout at once."
+
+"Gout! what's that?" inquired Mr. Bassett.
+
+"Don't ask me."
+
+"You don't know.
+
+"Not know! What, didn't I tell you I was Rolfe the writer? Writers know
+everything. That is what makes them so modest."
+
+Mr. Bassett was now unnaturally silent for five minutes, munching
+chestnuts; this enabled his guests to converse; but as soon as he had
+cleared his plate, he cut right across the conversation, with that
+savage contempt for all topics but his own which characterizes
+gentlemen of his age, and says he to Rolfe, "You know everything? Then
+what's a parson's brat?"
+
+"Well, that's the one thing I don't know," said Rolfe; "but a brat I
+take to be a boy who interrupts ladies and gentlemen with nonsense when
+they are talking sense."
+
+"I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Rolfe," said Lady Bassett. "That
+remark was very much needed."
+
+Then she called Reginald to her, and lectured him, _sotto voce,_ to the
+same tune.
+
+"You old bachelors are rather hard," said Sir Charles, not very well
+pleased.
+
+"We are obliged to be; you parents are so soft. After all, it is no
+wonder. What a superb boy it is!--Here is nurse. I'm so sorry. Now we
+shall be cabined, cribbed, confined to rational conversation, and I
+shall not be expected to--(good-night, little flaxen angel; good-by,
+handsome and loquacious demon; kiss and be friends)--expected to know,
+all in a minute, what is a parson's brat. By-the-by, talking of
+parsons, what has become of Angelo?"
+
+"He has been away a good many years. Consumption, I hear."
+
+"He was a fine-built fellow too; was he not, Lady Bassett?"
+
+"I don't know; but he was beautifully strong. I think I see him now
+carrying dear Charles in his arms all down the garden."
+
+"Ah, you see he was raised in a university that does not do things by
+halves, but trains both body and mind, as they did at Athens; for the
+union of study and athletic sports is spoken of as a novelty, but it is
+only a return to antiquity."
+
+Here letters were brought by the second post. Sir Charles glanced at
+his, and sent them to his study. Lady Bassett had but one. She said,
+_"May_ I?" to both gentlemen, and then opened it.
+
+"How strange!" said she. "It is from Mr. Angelo: just a line to say he
+is coming home quite cured."
+
+She began this composedly, but blushed afterward--blushed quite red.
+
+_"May_ I?" said she, and tossed it delicately half-way to Rolfe. He
+handed it to Sir Charles.
+
+Some remarks were then made about the coincidence, and nothing further
+passed worth recording at that time.
+
+Next day Lady Bassett, with instinctive curiosity, asked Master
+Reginald how he came to put such a question as that to Mr. Rolfe.
+
+"Because I wanted to know."
+
+"But what put such words into your head? I never heard a gentleman say
+such words; and you must never say them again, Reginald."
+
+"Tell me what it means, and I won't," said he.
+
+"Oh," said Lady Bassett, "since you bargain with me, sir, I must
+bargain with you. Tell me first where you ever heard such words."
+
+"When I was staying at nurse's. Ah, that was jolly."
+
+"You like that better than being here?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I am sorry for that. Well, dear, did nurse say that? Surely not?"
+
+"Oh, no; it was the man."
+
+"What man?"
+
+"Why, the man that came to the gate one morning, and talked to me, and
+I talked to him, and that nasty nurse ran out and caught us, and
+carried me in, and gave me such a hiding, and all for nothing."
+
+"A hiding! What words the poor child picks up! But I don't understand
+why nurse should beat _you."_
+
+"For speaking to the man. She said he was a bad man, and she would kill
+me if ever I spoke to him again."
+
+"Oh, it was a bad man, and said bad words--to somebody he was
+quarreling with?"
+
+"No, he said them to nurse because she took me away."
+
+"What _did_ he say, Reginald?" asked Lady Bassett, becoming very grave
+and thoughtful all at once.
+
+"He said, 'That's too late; I've seen the parson's brat.'"
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"And I've asked nurse again and again what it meant, but she won't tell
+me. She only says the man is a liar, and I am not to say it again; and
+so I never did say it again--for a long time; but last night, when
+Rolfe the writer said he knew everything, it struck my head--what is
+the matter, mamma?"
+
+"Nothing; nothing."
+
+"You look so white. Are you ill, mamma?" and he went to put his arms
+round her, which was a mighty rare thing with him.
+
+She trembled a good deal, and did not either embrace him or repel him.
+She only trembled.
+
+After some time she recovered herself enough to say, in a voice and
+with a manner that impressed itself at once on this sharp boy:
+"Reginald, your nurse was quite right. Understand this: the man was
+your enemy--and mine; the words he said you must not say again. It
+would be like taking up dirt and flinging some on your own face and
+some on mine."
+
+"I won't do that," said the boy, firmly. "Are you afraid of the man
+that you look so white?"
+
+"A man with a woman's tongue--who can help fearing?"
+
+"Don't you be afraid; as soon as I'm big enough, I'll kill him."
+
+Lady Bassett looked with surprise at the child, he uttered this resolve
+with such a steady resolution.
+
+She drew him to her, and kissed him on the forehead.
+
+"No, Reginald," said she; "we must not shed blood; it is as wicked to
+kill our enemies as to kill any one else. But never speak to him, never
+even listen to him; if he tries to speak to you, run away from him, and
+don't let him--he is our enemy."
+
+That same day she went to Mrs. Meyrick, to examine her. But she found
+the boy had told her all there was to tell.
+
+Mrs. Meyrick, whose affection for her was not diminished, was downright
+vexed. "Dear me!" said she; "I did think I had kept that from vexing of
+you. To think of the dear child hiding it for nigh two years, and then
+to blurt it out like that! Nobody heard him I hope?"
+
+"Others heard; but--"
+
+"Didn't heed; the Lord be praised for that."
+
+"Mary," said Lady Bassett, solemnly, "I am not equal to another battle
+with Mr. Richard Bassett; and such a battle! Better tell all, and die."
+
+"Don't think of it," said Mary. "You're safe from Richard Bassett now.
+Times are changed since he came spying to my gate. His own boy is gone.
+You have got two. He'll lie still if you do. But if you tell your tale,
+he must hear on't, and he'll tell his. For God's sake, my lady, keep
+close. It is the curse of women that they can't just hold their
+tongues, and see how things turn. And is this a time to spill good
+liquor? Look at Sir Charles! why, he is another man; he have got flesh
+on his bones now, and color into his cheeks, and 'twas you and I made a
+man of him. It is my belief you'd never have had this other little
+angel but for us having sense and courage to see what _must_ be done.
+Knock down our own work, and send him wild again, and give that Richard
+Bassett a handle? You'll never be so mad."
+
+Lady Bassett replied. The other answered; and so powerfully that Lady
+Bassett yielded, and went home sick at heart, but helpless, and in a
+sea of doubt.
+
+Mr. Angelo did not call. Sir Charles asked Lady Bassett if he had
+called on her.
+
+She said "No."
+
+"That is odd," said Sir Charles. "Perhaps he thinks we ought to welcome
+him home. Write and ask him to dinner."
+
+"Yes, dear. Or you can write."
+
+"Very well, I will. No, I will call."
+
+Sir Charles called, and welcomed him home, and asked him to dinner.
+Angelo received him rather stiffly at first, but accepted his
+invitation.
+
+He came, looking a good deal older and graver, but almost as handsome
+as ever; only somewhat changed in mind. He had become a zealous
+clergyman, and his soul appeared to be in his work. He was distant and
+very respectful to Lady Bassett; I might say obsequious. Seemed almost
+afraid of her at first.
+
+That wore off in a few months; but he was never quite so much at his
+ease with her as he had been before he left some years ago.
+
+
+
+And so did time roll on.
+
+Every morning and every night Lady Bassett used to look wistfully at
+Sir Charles, and say--
+
+"Are you happy, dear? Are you sure you are happy?"
+
+And he used always to say, and with truth, that he was the happiest man
+in England, thanks to her.
+
+Then she used to relax the wild and wistful look with which she asked
+the question, and give a sort of sigh, half content, half resignation.
+
+In due course another fine boy came, and filled the royal office of
+baby in his turn.
+
+But my story does not follow him.
+
+
+
+Reginald was over ten years old, and Compton nearly six. They were as
+different in character as complexion--both remarkable boys.
+
+Reginald, Sir Charles's favorite, was a wonderful boy for riding,
+running, talking; and had a downright genius for melody; he whistled to
+the admiration of the village, and latterly he practiced the fiddle in
+woods and under hedges, being aided and abetted therein by a gypsy boy
+whom he loved, and who, indeed, provided the instrument.
+
+He rode with Sir Charles, and rather liked him; his brother he never
+noticed, except to tease him. Lady Bassett he admired, and almost loved
+her while she was in the act of playing him undeniable melodies. But he
+liked his nurse Meyrick better, on the whole; she flattered him more,
+and was more uniformly subservient.
+
+With these two exceptions he despised the whole race of women, and
+affected male society only, especially of grooms, stable-boys, and
+gypsies; these last welcomed him to their tents, and almost prostrated
+themselves before him, so dazzled were they by his beauty and his
+color. It is believed they suspected him of having gypsy blood in his
+veins. They let him into their tents, and even into some of their
+secrets, and he promised them they should have it all their own way as
+soon as he was Sir Reginald; he had outgrown his original theory that
+he was to be Sir Charles on his father's death.
+
+He hated in-doors; when fixed by command to a book, would beg hard to
+be allowed to take it into the sun; and at night would open his window
+and poke his black head out to wash in the moonshine, as he said.
+
+He despised ladies and gentlemen, said they were all affected fools,
+and gave imitations of all his father's guests to prove it; and so keen
+was this child of nature's eye for affectation that very often his
+disapproving parents were obliged to confess the imp had seen with his
+fresh eye defects custom had made them overlook, or the solid good
+qualities that lay beneath had overbalanced.
+
+Now all this may appear amusing and eccentric, and so on, to strangers;
+but after the first hundred laughs or so with which paternal indulgence
+dismisses the faults of childhood, Sir Charles became very grave.
+
+The boy was his darling and his pride. He was ambitious for him. He
+earnestly desired to solve for him a problem which is as impossible as
+squaring the circle, viz., how to transmit our experience to our
+children. The years and the health he had wasted before he knew Bella
+Bruce, these he resolved his successor should not waste. He looked
+higher for this beautiful boy than for himself. He had fully resolved
+to be member for the county one day; but he did not care about it for
+himself; it was only to pave the way for his successor; that Sir
+Reginald, after a long career in the Commons, might find his way into
+the House of Peers, and so obtain dignity in exchange for antiquity;
+for, to tell the truth, the ancestors of four-fifths of the British
+House of Peers had been hewers of wood and drawers of water at a time
+when these Bassetts had already been gentlemen of distinction for
+centuries.
+
+All this love and this vicarious ambition were now mortified daily.
+Some fathers could do wonders for a brilliant boy, and with him; they
+expect him, and a dull boy appears; that is a bitter pill; but this was
+worse. Reginald was a sharp boy; he could do anything; fasten him to a
+book for twenty minutes, he would learn as much as most boys in an
+hour; but there was no keeping him to it, unless you strapped him or
+nailed him, for he had the will of a mule, and the suppleness of an eel
+to carry out his will. And then his tastes--low as his features were
+refined; he was a sort of moral dung-fork; picked up all the slang of
+the stable and scattered it in the dining-room and drawing-room; and
+once or twice he stole out of his comfortable room at night, and slept
+in a gypsy's tent with his arm round a gypsy boy, unsullied from his
+cradle by soap.
+
+At last Sir Charles could no longer reply to his wife at night as he
+had done for this ten years past. He was obliged to confess that there
+was one cloud upon his happiness. "Dear Reginald grieves me, and makes
+me dread the future; for if the child is father to the man, there is a
+bitter disappointment in store for us. He is like no other boy; he is
+like no human creature I ever saw. At his age, and long after, I was a
+fool; I was a fool till I knew you; but surely I was a gentleman. I
+cannot see myself again--in my first-born."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+LADY BASSETT was paralyzed for a minute or two by this speech. At last
+she replied by asking a question--rather a curious one. "Who nursed
+you, Charles?"
+
+"What, when I was a baby? How can I tell? Yes, by-the-by, it was my
+mother nursed me--so I was told."
+
+"And your mother was a Le Compton. This poor boy was nursed by a
+servant. Oh, she has some good qualities, and is certainly devoted to
+us--to this day her face brightens at sight of me--but she is
+essentially vulgar; and do you remember, Charles, I wished to wean him
+early; but I was overruled, and the poor child drew his nature from
+that woman for nearly eighteen months; it is a thing unheard of
+nowadays."
+
+"Well, but surely it is from our parents we draw our nature."
+
+"No; I think it is from our nurses. If Compton or Alec ever turn out
+like Reginald, blame nobody but their nurse, and that is Me."
+
+Sir Charles smiled faintly at this piece of feminine logic, and asked
+her what he should do.
+
+She said she was quite unable to advise. Mr. Rolfe was coming to see
+them soon; perhaps he might be able to suggest something.
+
+Sir Charles said he would consult him; but he was clear on one
+thing--the boy must be sent from Huntercombe, and so separated from all
+his present acquaintances.
+
+Mr. Rolfe came, and the distressed father opened his heart to him in
+strict confidence respecting Reginald.
+
+Rolfe listened and sympathized, and knit his brow, and asked time to
+consider what he had heard, and also to study the boy for himself.
+
+He angled for him next day accordingly. A little table was taken out on
+the lawn, and presently Mr. Rolfe issued forth in a uniform suit of
+dark blue flannel and a sombrero hat, and set to work writing a novel
+in the sun.
+
+Reginald in due course descried this figure, and it smacked so of that
+Bohemia to which his own soul belonged that he was attracted thereby,
+but made his approaches stealthily, like a little cat.
+
+Presently a fiddle went off behind a tree, so close that the novelist
+leaped out of his seat with an eldrich screech; for he had long ago
+forgotten all about Mr. Reginald, and, when he got heated in this kind
+of composition, any sudden sound seemed to his tense nerves and boiling
+brain about ten times as loud as it really was.
+
+Having relieved himself with a yell, he sat down with the mien of a
+martyr expecting tortures; but he was most agreeably disappointed; the
+little monster played an English melody, and played it in tune. This
+done, he whistled a quick tune, and played a slow second to it in
+perfect harmony; this done, he whistled the second part and played the
+quick treble--a very simple feat, but still ingenious for a boy, and
+new to his hearer.
+
+"Bravo! bravo!" cried Rolfe, with all his heart,
+
+Mr. Reginald emerged, radiant with vanity. "You are like me, Mr.
+Writer," said he; "you don't like to be cooped up in-doors."
+
+"I wish I could play the fiddle like you, my fine fellow."
+
+"Ah, you can't do that all in a minute; see the time I have been at
+it."
+
+"Ah, to be sure, I forgot your antiquity."
+
+"And it isn't the time only; it's giving your mind to it, old chap."
+
+"What, you don't give your mind to your books, then, as you do to your
+fiddle, _young gentleman?"_
+
+"Not such a flat. Why, lookee here, governor, if you go and give your
+mind to a thing you don't like, it's always time wasted, because some
+other chap, that does like it, will beat you, and what's the use
+working for to be beat?"
+
+"'For' is redundant," objected Rolfe.
+
+"But if you stick hard to the things you like, you do 'em downright
+well. But old people are such fools, they always drive you the wrong
+way. They make the gals play music six hours a day, and you might as
+well set the hen bullfinches to pipe. Look at the gals as come here,
+how they rattle up and down the piano, and can't make it sing a morsel.
+Why, they _couldn't_ rattle like that, if they'd music in their skins,
+d--n 'em; and they drive me to those stupid books, because I'm all for
+music and moonshine. Can you keep a secret?"
+
+"As the tomb."
+
+"Well, then, I can do plenty of things well, besides fiddling; I can
+set a wire with any poacher in the parish. I have caught plenty of our
+old man's hares in my time; and it takes a workman to set a wire as it
+should be. Show me a wire, and I'll tell you whether it was Hudson, or
+Whitbeck, or Squinting Jack, or who it was that set it. I know all
+their work that walks by moonlight hereabouts."
+
+"This is criticism; a science; I prefer art; play me another tune, my
+bold Bohemian."
+
+"Ah, I thought I should catch ye with my fiddle. You're not such a muff
+as the others, old 'un, not by a long chalk. Hang me if I won't give ye
+'Ireland's music,' and I've sworn never to waste that on a fool."
+
+He played the old Irish air so simply and tunably that Rolfe leaned
+back in his chair, with half closed eyes, in soft voluptuous ecstasy.
+
+The youngster watched him with his coal-black eye.
+
+"I like you," said he, "better than I thought I should, a precious
+sight."
+
+"Highly flattered."
+
+"Come with me, and hear my nurse sing it."
+
+"What, and leave my novel?"
+
+"Oh, bother your novel."
+
+"And so I will. That will be tit for tat; it has bothered me. Lead on,
+Bohemian bold."
+
+The boy took him, over hedge and ditch, the short-cut to Meyrick's
+farm; and caught Mrs. Meyrick, and said she must sing "Ireland's music"
+to Rolfe the writer.
+
+Mrs. Meyrick apologized for her dress, and affected shyness about
+singing: Mr. Reginald stared at first, then let her know that, if she
+was going to be affected like the girls that came to the Hall, he
+should hate her, as he did them, and this he confirmed with a naughty
+word.
+
+Thus threatened, she came to book, and sang Ireland's melody in a low,
+rich, sonorous voice; Reginald played a second; the harmony was so
+perfect and strong that certain glass candelabra on the mantel-piece
+rang loudly, and the drops vibrated. Then he made her sing the second,
+and he took the treble with his violin; and he wound up by throwing in
+a third part himself, a sort of countertenor, his own voice being much
+higher than the woman's.
+
+The tears stood in Rolfe's eyes. "Well," said he, "you have got the
+soul of music, you two. I could listen to you 'From morn till noon,
+from noon till dewy eve.'"
+
+As they returned to Huntercombe, this mercurial youth went off at a
+tangent, and Rolfe saw him no more.
+
+He wrote in peace, and walked about between the heats.
+
+Just before dinner-time the screams of women were heard hard by, and
+the writer hurried to the place in time to see Mr. Basset hanging by
+the shoulder from the branch of a tree, about twenty feet from the
+ground.
+
+Rolfe hallooed, as he ran, to the women, to fetch blankets to catch
+him, and got under the tree, determined to try and catch him in his
+arms, if necessary; but he encouraged the boy to hold on.
+
+"All right, governor," said the boy, in a quavering voice.
+
+It was very near the kitchen; maids and men poured out with blankets;
+eight people held one, under Rolfe's direction, and down came Mr.
+Bassett in a semicircle, and bounded up again off the blanket, like an
+India-rubber ball.
+
+His quick mind recovered courage the moment he touched wool.
+
+"Crikey! that's jolly," said he; "give me another toss or two."
+
+"Oh no! no!" said a good-natured maid. "Take an' put him to bed right
+off, poor dear."
+
+"Hold your tongue, ye bitch," said young hopeful; "if ye don't toss me,
+I'll turn ye all off, as soon as ever the old un kicks the bucket."
+
+Thus menaced, they thought it prudent to toss him; but, at the third
+toss, he yelled out, "Oh! oh! oh! I'm all wet; it's blood! I'm dead!"
+
+Then they examined, and found his arm was severely lacerated by an old
+nail that had been driven into the tree, and it had torn the flesh in
+his fall: he was covered with blood, the sight of which quenched his
+manly spirit, and he began to howl.
+
+"Old linen rag, warm water, and a bottle of champagne," shouted Rolfe:
+the servants flew.
+
+Rolfe dressed and bandaged the wound for him, and then he felt faint:
+the champagne soon set that right; and then he wanted to get drunk,
+alleging, as a reason, that he had not been drunk for this two months.
+
+Sir Charles was told of the accident, and was distressed by it, and
+also by the cause.
+
+"Rolfe," said he, sorrowfully, "there is a ring-dove's nest on that
+tree: she and hers have built there in peace and safety for a hundred
+years, and cooed about the place. My unhappy boy was climbing the tree
+to take the young, after solemnly promising me he never would: that is
+the bitter truth. What shall I do with the young barbarian?"
+
+He sighed, and Lady Bassett echoed the sigh.
+
+Said Rolfe, "The young barbarian, as you call him, has disarmed me: he
+plays the fiddle like a civilized angel."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Rolfe!"
+
+"What, you his mother, and not found that out yet? Oh yes, he has a
+heaven-born genius for music."
+
+Rolfe then related the musical feats of the urchin.
+
+Sir Charles begged to observe that this talent would go a very little
+way toward fitting him to succeed his father and keep up the credit of
+an ancient family.
+
+"Dear Charles, Mr. Rolfe knows that; but it is like him to make the
+best of things, to encourage us. But what do you think of him, on the
+whole, Mr. Rolfe? has Sir Charles more to hope or to fear?"
+
+"Give me another day or two to study him," said Rolfe.
+
+That night there was a loud alarm. Mr. Bassett was running about the
+veranda in his night-dress.
+
+They caught him and got him to bed, and Rolfe said it was fever; and,
+with the assistance of Sir Charles and a footman, laid him between two
+towels steeped in tepid water, then drew blankets tight over him, and,
+in short, packed him.
+
+"Ah!" said he, complacently; "I say, give me a drink of moonshine, old
+chap."
+
+"I'll give you a bucketful," said Rolfe; then, with the servant's help,
+took his little bed and put it close to the window; the moonlight
+streamed in on the boy's face, his great black eyes glittered in it. He
+was diabolically beautiful. "Kiss me, moonshine," said he; "I like to
+wash in you."
+
+Next day he was, apparently, quite well, and certainly ripe for fresh
+mischief. Rolfe studied him, and, the evening before he went, gave Sir
+Charles and Lady Bassett his opinion, but not with his usual alacrity;
+a weight seemed to hang on him, and, more than once, his voice
+trembled.
+
+"I shall tell you," said he, "what I see--what I foresee--and then,
+with great diffidence, what I advise.
+
+"I see--what naturalists call a reversion in race, a boy who resembles
+in color and features neither of his parents, and, indeed, bears little
+resemblance to any of the races that have inhabited England since
+history was written. He suggests rather some Oriental type."
+
+Sir Charles turned round in his chair, with a sigh, and said, "We are
+to have a romance, it seems."
+
+Lady Bassett stared with all her eyes, and began to change color.
+
+The theorist continued, with perfect composure, "I don't undertake to
+account for it with any precision. How can I? Perhaps there is Moorish
+blood in your family, and here it has revived; you look incredulous,
+but there are plenty of examples, ay, and stronger than this: every
+child that is born resembles some progenitor; how then do you account
+for Julia Pastrana, a young lady who dined with me last week, and sang
+me 'Ah perdona,' rather feebly, in the evening? Bust and figure like
+any other lady, hand exquisite, arms neatly turned, but with long,
+silky hair from the elbow to the wrist. Face, ugh! forehead made of
+black leather, eyes all pupil, nose an excrescence, chin pure monkey,
+face all covered with hair; briefly, a type extinct ten thousand years
+before Adam, yet it could revive at this time of day. Compared with La
+Pastrana, and many much weaker examples of antiquity revived, that I
+have seen, your Mauritanian son is no great marvel, after all."
+
+"This is a _little_ too far-fetched," said Sir Charles, satirically;
+"Bella's father was a very dark man, and it is a tradition in our
+family that all the Bassetts were as black as ink till they married
+with you Rolfes, in the year 1684."
+
+"Oho!" said Rolfe, "is it so? See how discussion brings out things."
+
+"And then," said Lady Bassett, "Charles dear, tell Mr. Rolfe what I
+think."
+
+"Ay, do," said Rolfe; "that will be a new form of circumlocution."
+
+Sir Charles complied, with a smile. "Lady Bassett's theory is, that
+children derive their nature quite as much from their wet-nurses as
+from their parents, and she thinks the faults we deplore in Reginald
+are to be traced to his nurse; by-the-by, she is a dark woman too."
+
+"Well," said Rolfe, "there's a good deal of truth in that, as far as
+regards the disposition. But I never heard color so accounted for; yet
+why not? It has been proved that the very bones of young animals can be
+colored pink, by feeding them on milk so colored."
+
+"There!" said Lady Bassett.
+
+"But no nurse could give your son a color which is not her own. I have
+seen the woman; she is only a dark Englishwoman. Her arms were
+embrowned by exposure, but her forehead was not brown. Mr. Reginald is
+quite another thing. The skin of his body, the white of his eye, the
+pupil, all look like a reversion to some Oriental type; and, mark the
+coincidence, he has mental peculiarities that point toward the East."
+
+Sir Charles lost patience. "On the contrary," said he, "he talks and
+feels just like an English snob, and makes me miserable."
+
+"Oh, as to that, he has picked up vulgar phrases at that farm, and in
+your stables; but he never picked up his musical genius in stables and
+farms, far less his poetry."
+
+"What poetry?"
+
+"What poetry? Why, did not you hear him? Was it not poetical of a
+wounded, fevered boy to beg to be laid by the window, and to say 'Let
+me drink the moonshine?' Take down your Homer, and read a thousand
+lines haphazard, and see whether you stumble over a thought more
+poetical than that. But criticism does not exist: whatever the dead
+said was good; whatever the living say is little; as if the dead were a
+race apart, and had never been the living, and the living would never
+be the dead."
+
+Heaven knows where he was running to now, but Sir Charles stopped him
+by conceding that point. "Well you are right: poor child, it was
+poetical," and the father's pride predominated, for a moment, over
+every other sentiment.
+
+"Yes; but where did it come from? That looks to me a typical idea; I
+mean an idea derived, not from his luxurious parents, dwellers in
+curtained mansions, but from some out-door and remote ancestor; perhaps
+from the Oriental tribe that first colonized Britain; they worshiped
+the sun and the moon, no doubt; or perhaps, after all, it only came
+from some wandering tribe that passed their lives between the two
+lights of heaven, and never set foot in a human dwelling."
+
+"This," said Sir Charles, "is a flattering speculation, but so wild and
+romantic that I fear it will lead us to no practical result. I thought
+you undertook to advise me. What advice can you build on these cobwebs
+of your busy brain?"
+
+"Excuse me, my practical friend," said Rolfe. "I opened my discourse in
+three heads. What I see--what I foresee--and what, with diffidence, I
+advise. Pray don't disturb my methods, or I am done for; never disturb
+an artist's form. I have told you what I see. What I foresee is this:
+you will have to cut off the entail with Reginald's consent, when he is
+of age, and make the Saxon boy Compton your successor. Cutting off
+entails runs in families, like everything else; your grandfather did
+it, and so will you. You should put by a few thousands every year, that
+you may be able to do this without injustice either to your Oriental or
+your Saxon son."
+
+"Never!" shouted Sir Charles: then, in a broken voice, "He is my
+first-born, and my idol; his coming into the world rescued me out of a
+morbid condition: he healed my one great grief. Bar the entail, and put
+his younger brother in his place--never!"
+
+Mr. Rolfe bowed his head politely, and left the subject, which, indeed,
+could be carried no farther without serious offense.
+
+"And now for my advice. The question is, how to educate this strange
+boy. One thing is clear; it is no use trying the humdrum plan any
+longer; it has been tried, and failed. I should adapt his education to
+his nature. Education is made as stiff and unyielding as a board; but
+it need not be. I should abolish that spectacled tutor of yours at
+once, and get a tutor, young, enterprising, manly, and supple, who
+would obey orders; and the order should be to observe the boy's nature,
+and teach accordingly. Why need men teach in a chair, and boys learn in
+a chair? The Athenians studied not in chairs. The Peripatetics, as
+their name imports, hunted knowledge afoot; those who sought truth in
+the groves of Academus were not seated at that work. Then let the tutor
+walk with him, and talk with him by sunlight and moonlight, relating
+old history, and commenting on each new thing that is done, or word
+spoken, and improve every occasion. Why, I myself would give a guinea a
+day to walk with William White about the kindly aspects and wooded
+slopes of Selborne, or with Karr about his garden. Cut Latin and Greek
+clean out of the scheme. They are mere cancers to those who can never
+excel in them. Teach him not dead languages, but living facts. Have him
+in your justice-room for half an hour a day, and give him your own
+comments on what he has heard there. Let his tutor take him to all
+Quarter Sessions and Assizes, and stick to him like diaculum,
+especially out-of-doors; order him never to be admitted to the
+stable-yard; dismiss every biped there that lets him come. Don't let
+him visit his nurse so often, and never without his tutor; it was she
+who taught him to look forward to your decease; that is just like these
+common women. Such a tutor as I have described will deserve 500 pounds
+a year. Give it him; and dismiss him if he plays humdrum and doesn't
+earn it. Dismiss half a dozen, if necessary, till you get a fellow with
+a grain or two of genius for tuition. When the boy is seventeen, what
+with his Oriental precocity, and this system of education, he will know
+the world as well as a Saxon boy of twenty-one, and that is not saying
+much. Then, if his nature is still as wild, get him a large tract in
+Australia; cattle to breed, kangaroos to shoot, swift horses to thread
+the bush and gallop mighty tracts; he will not shirk business, if it
+avoids the repulsive form of sitting down in-doors, and offers itself
+in combination with riding, hunting, galloping, cracking of rifles, and
+of colonial whips as loud as rifles, and drinking sunshine and
+moonshine in that mellow clime, beneath the Southern Cross and the
+spangled firmament of stars unknown to us."
+
+His own eyes sparkled like hot coals at this Bohemian picture.
+
+Then he sighed and returned to civilization. "But," said he, "be ready
+with eighty thousand pounds for him, that he may enjoy his own way and
+join you in barring the entail. I forgot, I must say no more on that
+subject; I see it is as offensive--as it is inevitable. Cassandra has
+spoken wisely, and, I see, in vain. God bless you both--good-night."
+
+And he rolled out of the room with a certain clumsy importance.
+
+Sir Charles treated all this advice with a polite forbearance while he
+was in the room, but on his departure delivered a sage reflection.
+
+"Strange," said he, "that a man so valuable in any great emergency
+should be so extravagant and eccentric in the ordinary affairs of life.
+I might as well drive to Bellevue House and consult the first gentleman
+I met there."
+
+Lady Bassett did not reply immediately, and Sir Charles observed that
+her face was very red and her hands trembled.
+
+"Why, Bella," said he, "has all that rhodomontade upset you?"
+
+Lady Bassett looked frightened at his noticing her agitation, and said
+that Mr. Rolfe always overpowered her. "He is so large, and so
+confident, and throws such new light on things."
+
+"New light! Wild eccentricity always does that; but it is the light of
+Jack-o'-lantern. On a great question, so near my heart as this, give me
+the steady light of common sense, not the wayward coruscations of a
+fiery imagination. Bella dear, I shall send the boy to a good school,
+and so cut off at one blow all the low associations that have caused
+the mischief."
+
+"You know what is best, dear," said Lady Bassett; "you are wiser than
+any of us."
+
+In the morning she got hold of Mr. Rolfe, and asked him if he could put
+her in the way of getting more than three per cent for her money
+_without risk._
+
+"Only one," said .Rolfe. "London freeholds in rising situations let to
+substantial tenants. I can get you five per cent that way, if you are
+always ready to buy. The thing does not offer every day."
+
+"I have twenty thousand pounds to dispose of so," said Lady Bassett.
+
+"Very well," said Rolfe. "I'll look out for you, but Oldfield must
+examine titles and do the actual business. The best of that investment
+is, it is always improving; no ups and downs. Come," thought he,
+"Cassandra has not spoken quite in vain."
+
+Sir Charles acted on his judgment, and in due course sent Mr. Bassett
+to a school at some distance, kept by a clergyman, who had the credit
+in that county of exercising sharp supervision and strict discipline.
+
+Sir Charles made no secret of the boy's eccentricities. Mr. Beecher
+said he had one or two steady boys who assisted him in such cases.
+
+Sir Charles thought that a very good idea; it was like putting a wild
+colt into the break with a steady horse.
+
+He missed the boy sadly at first, but comforted himself with the
+conviction that he had parted with him for his good: that consoled him
+somewhat.
+
+
+
+The younger children of Sir Charles and Lady Bassett were educated
+entirely by their mother, and taught as none but a loving lady can
+teach.
+
+Compton, with whom we have to do, never knew the thorns with which the
+path of letters is apt to be strewn. A mistress of the great art of
+pleasing made knowledge from the first a primrose path to him.
+Sparkling all over with intelligence, she impregnated her boy with it.
+She made herself his favorite companion; she would not keep her
+distance. She stole and coaxed knowledge and goodness into his heart
+and mind with rare and loving cunning.
+
+She taught him English and French and Latin on the Hamiltonian plan,
+and stored his young mind with history and biography, and read to him,
+and conversed with him on everything as they read it.
+
+She taught him to speak the truth, and to be honorable and just.
+
+She taught him to be polite, and even formal, rather than free-and-easy
+and rude. She taught him to be a man. He must not be what brave boys
+called a molly-coddle: like most womanly women, she had a veneration
+for man, and she gave him her own high idea of the manly character.
+
+Natural ability, and habitual contact with a mind so attractive and so
+rich, gave this intelligent boy many good ideas beyond his age.
+
+When he was six years old, Lady Bassett made him pass his word of honor
+that he would never go into the stable-yard; and even then he was far
+enough advanced to keep his word religiously.
+
+In return for this she let him taste some sweets of liberty, and was
+not always after him. She was profound enough to see that without
+liberty a noble character cannot be formed; and she husbanded the curb.
+
+
+
+One day he represented to her that, in the meadow next their lawn, were
+great stripes of yellow, which were possibly cowslips; of course they
+might be only buttercups, but he hoped better things of them; he
+further reported that there was an iron gate between him and this
+paradise: he could get over it if not objectionable; but he thought it
+safest to ask her what she thought of the matter; was that iron gate
+intended to keep little boys from the cowslips, because, if so, it was
+a misfortune to which he must resign himself. Still, it _was_ a
+misfortune. All this, of course, in the simple language of boyhood.
+
+Then Lady Bassett smiled, and said, "Suppose I were to lend you a key
+of that iron gate?"
+
+"Oh, mamma!"
+
+"I have a great mind to."
+
+"Then you will, you will."
+
+"Does that follow?"
+
+"Yes: whenever you say you think you'll do something kind, or you have
+a great mind to do it, you know you always do it; and that is one thing
+I do like you for, mamma--you are better than your word."
+
+"Better than my word? Where does the child learn these things?"
+
+"La, mamma, papa says that often."
+
+"Oh, that accounts for it. I like the phrase very much. I wish I could
+think I deserved it. At any rate, I will be as good as my word for
+once; you shall have a key of the gate."
+
+The boy clapped his hands with delight. The key was sent for, and,
+meantime, she told him one reason why she had trusted him with it was
+because he had been as good as his word about the stable.
+
+The key was brought, and she held it up half playfully, and said,
+"There, sir, I deliver you this upon conditions: you must only use it
+when the weather is quite dry, because the grass in the meadow is
+longer, and will be wet. Do you promise?"
+
+"Yes, mamma."
+
+"And you must always lock the gate when you come back, and bring the
+key to one place--let me see--the drawer in the hall table, the one
+with marble on it; for you know a place for every thing is our rule. On
+these conditions, I hereby deliver you this magic key, with the right
+of egress and ingress."
+
+"Egress and ingress?"
+
+"Egress and ingress."
+
+"Is that foreign for cowslips, mamma--and oxlips?"
+
+"Ha! ha! the child's head is full of cowslips. There is the dictionary;
+look out Egress, and afterward look out Ingress."
+
+When he had added these two words to his little vocabulary, his mother
+asked him if he would be good enough to tell her why he did not care
+much about all the beautiful flowers in the garden, and was so excited
+about cowslips, which appeared to her a flower of no great beauty, and
+the smell rather sickly, begging his pardon.
+
+This question posed him dreadfully: he looked at her in a sort of comic
+distress, and then sat gravely down all in a heap, about a yard off, to
+think.
+
+Finally he turned to her with a wry face, and said, "Why _do_ I,
+mamma?"
+
+She smiled deliciously. "No, no, sir," said she. "How can I get inside
+your little head and tell what is there? There must be a reason, I
+suppose; and you know you and I are never satisfied till we get at the
+reason of a thing. But there is no hurry, dear. I give you a week to
+find it out. Now, run and open the gate--stay, are there any cows in
+that field?"
+
+"Sometimes, mamma; but they have no horns, you know."
+
+"Upon your word?"
+
+"Upon my honor. I am not fond of them with horns, myself."
+
+"Then run away, darling. But you must come and hunt me up, and tell me
+how you enjoyed yourself, because that makes me happy, you know."
+
+This is mawkish; but it will serve to show on what terms the woman and
+boy were.
+
+On second thoughts, I recall that apology, and defy creation. "THE
+MAWKISH" is a branch of literature, a great and popular one, and I have
+neglected it savagely.
+
+Master Compton opened the iron gate, and the world was all before him
+where to choose.
+
+He chose one of those yellow stripes that had so attracted him. Horror!
+it was all buttercups and deil a cowslip.
+
+Nevertheless, pursuing his researches, he found plenty of that
+delightful flower scattered about the meadow in thinner patches; and he
+gathered a double handful and dirtied his knees.
+
+Returning, thus laden, from his first excursion, he was accosted by a
+fluty voice.
+
+"Little boy!"
+
+He looked up, and saw a girl standing on the lower bar of a little
+wooden gate painted white, looking over.
+
+_"Please_ bring me my ball," said she, pathetically.
+
+Compton looked about; and saw a soft ball of many colors lying near.
+
+He put down his cowslips gravely, and, brought her the ball. He gave it
+her with a blush, because she was a strange girl; and she blushed a
+little, because he did.
+
+He returned to his cowslips.
+
+"Little boy!" said the voice, "please bring me my ball again."
+
+He brought it her, with undisturbed politeness. She was giggling; he
+laughed too, at that.
+
+"You did it on purpose that time," said he, solemnly.
+
+"La! you don't think I'd be so wicked," said she.
+
+Compton shook his head doubtfully, and, considering the interview at an
+end turned to go, when instantly the ball knocked his hat off, and
+nothing of the malefactress was visible but a black eye sparkling with
+fun and mischief, and a bit of forehead wedged against the angle of the
+wall.
+
+This being a challenge, Compton said, "Now you come out after that, and
+stand a shot, like a man."
+
+The invitation to be masculine did not tempt her a bit; the only thing
+she put out was her hand, and that she drew in, with a laugh, the
+moment he threw at it.
+
+At this juncture a voice cried, "Ruperta! what are you doing there?"
+
+Ruperta made a rapid signal with her hand to Compton, implying that he
+was to run away; and she herself walked demurely toward the person who
+had called her.
+
+It was three days before Compton saw her again, and then she beckoned
+him royally to her.
+
+"Little boy," said she, "talk to me."
+
+Compton looked at her a little confounded, and did not reply.
+
+"Stand on this gate, like me, and talk," said she.
+
+He obeyed the first part of this mandate, and stood on the lower bar of
+the little gate; so their two figures made a V, when they hung back,
+and a tenpenny nail when they came forward and met, and this motion
+they continued through the dialogue; and it was a pity the little
+wretches could not keep still, and send for my friend the English
+Titian: for, when their heads were in position, it was indeed a pretty
+picture of childish and flower-like beauty and contrast; the boy fair,
+blue-eyed, and with exquisite golden hair; the girl black-eyed,
+black-browed, and with eyelashes of incredible length and beauty, and a
+cheek brownish, but tinted, and so glowing with health and vigor that,
+pricked with a needle, it seemed ready to squirt carnation right into
+your eye.
+
+She dazzled Master Compton so that he could do nothing but look at her.
+
+"Well?" said she, smiling.
+
+"Well," replied he, pretending her "well" was not an interrogatory, but
+a concise statement, and that he had discharged the whole duty of man
+by according a prompt and cheerful consent.
+
+"You begin," said the lady.
+
+"No, you."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Because--I think--you are the cleverest."
+
+"Good little boy! Well, then, I will. Who are you?"
+
+"I am Compton. Who are you, please?"
+
+"I am Ruperta."
+
+"I never heard that name before."
+
+"No more did I. I think they measured me for it: you live in the great
+house there, don't you?"
+
+"Yes, Ruperta."
+
+"Well, then, I live in the little house. It is not very little either.
+It's Highmore. I saw you in church one day; is that lady with the hair
+your mamma?"
+
+"Yes, Ruperta."
+
+"She is beautiful."
+
+"Isn't she?"
+
+"But mine is so good."
+
+"Mine is very good, too, Ruperta. Wonderfully good."
+
+"I like you, Compton--a little."
+
+"I like you a good deal, Ruperta."
+
+"La, do you? I wonder at that: you are like a cherub, and I am such a
+black thing."
+
+"But that is why I like you. Reginald is darker than you, and oh, so
+beautiful!"
+
+"Hum!--he is a very bad boy."
+
+"No, he is not."
+
+"Don't tell stories, child; he is. I know all about him. A wicked,
+vulgar, bad boy."
+
+"He is not," cried Compton, almost sniveling; but he altered his mind,
+and fired up. "You are a naughty, story-telling girl, to say that."
+
+"Bless _me!"_ said Ruperta, coloring high, and tossing her head
+haughtily.
+
+"I don't like you _now,_ Ruperta," said Compton, with all the decent
+calmness of a settled conviction.
+
+"You don't!" screamed Ruperta. "Then go about your business directly,
+and don't never come here again! Scolding _me!_ How dare you?--oh! oh!
+oh!" and the little lady went off slowly, with her finger in her eye;
+and Master Compton looked rather rueful, as we all do when this
+charming sex has recourse to what may be called "liquid reasoning." I
+have known the most solid reasons unable to resist it.
+
+However, "mens conscia recti," and, above all, the cowslips, enabled
+Compton to resist, and he troubled his head no more about her that day.
+
+But he looked out for her the next day, and she did not come; and that
+rather disappointed him.
+
+The next day was wet, and he did not go into the meadow, being on honor
+not to do so.
+
+The fourth day was lovely, and he spent a long time in the meadow, in
+hopes: he saw her for a moment at the gate; but she speedily retired.
+
+He was disappointed.
+
+However, he collected a good store of cowslips, and then came home.
+
+As he passed the door out popped Ruperta from some secret ambush, and
+said, "Well?"
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+"WELL," replied Compton.
+
+"Are you better, dear?"
+
+"I'm very well, thank you," said the boy.
+
+"In your mind, I mean. You were cross last time, you know."
+
+Compton remembered his mother's lessons about manly behavior, and said,
+in a jaunty way, "Well, I s'pose I was a little cross."
+
+Now the other cunning little thing had come to apologize, if there was
+no other way to recover her admirer. But, on this confession, she said,
+"Oh, if you are sorry for it, I forgive you. You may come and talk."
+
+Then Compton came and stood on the gate, and they held a long
+conversation; and, having quarreled last time, parted now with rather
+violent expressions of attachment.
+
+After that they made friends and laid their little hearts bare to each
+other; and it soon appeared that Compton had learned more, but Ruperta
+had thought more for herself, and was sorely puzzled about many things,
+and of a vastly inquisitive mind. "Why," said she, "is good thing's so
+hard, and had things so nice and easy? It would be much better if good
+things were nice and bad ones nasty. That is the way I'd have it, if I
+could make things."
+
+Mr. Compton shook his head and said many things were very hard to
+understand, and even his mamma sometimes could not make out all the
+things.
+
+"Nor mine neither; I puzzle her dreadful. I can't help that; things
+shouldn't come and puzzle me, and then I shouldn't puzzle her. Shall I
+tell you my puzzles? and perhaps you can answer them because you are a
+boy. I can't think why it is wicked for me to dig in my little garden
+on a Sunday, and it isn't wicked for Jessie to cook and Sarah to make
+the beds. Can't think why mamma told papa not to be cross, and, when I
+told her not to be cross, she put me in a dark cupboard all among the
+dreadful mice, till I screamed so she took me out and kissed me and
+gave me pie. Can't think why papa called Sally 'Something' for spilling
+the ink over his papers, and when I called the gardener the very same
+for robbing my flowers, all their hands and eyes went up, and they said
+I was a shocking girl. Can't think why papa giggled the next moment, if
+I was a shocking girl: it is all puzzle--puzzle--puzzle."
+
+
+
+One day she said, "Can you tell me where all the bad people are buried?
+for that puzzles me dreadful."
+
+Compton was posed at first, but said at last he thought they were
+buried in the churchyard, along with the good ones.
+
+"Oh, indeed!" said she, with an air of pity. "Pray, have you ever been
+in the churchyard, and read the writings on the stones?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then I have. I have read every single word; and there are none but
+good people buried _there,_ not one." She added, rather pathetically,
+"You should not answer me without thinking, as if things were easy,
+instead of so hard. Well, one comfort, there are not many wicked people
+hereabouts; they live in towns; so I suppose they are buried in the
+garden, poor things, or put in the water with a stone."
+
+Compton had no more plausible theory ready, and declined to commit
+himself to Ruperta's; so that topic fell to the ground.
+
+One day he found her perched as usual, but with her bright little face
+overclouded.
+
+By this time the intelligent boy was fond enough of her to notice her
+face. "What's the matter, Perta?"
+
+"Ruperta. The matter? Puzzled again! It is very serious this time."
+
+"Tell me, Ruperta."
+
+"No, dear."
+
+"Please."
+
+The young lady fixed her eyes on him, and said, with a pretty
+solemnity, "Let us play at catechism."
+
+"I don't know that game."
+
+"The governess asks questions, and the good little boy answers. That's
+catechism. I'm the governess."
+
+"Then I'm the good little boy."
+
+"Yes, dear; and so now look me full in the face."
+
+"There--you're very pretty, Ruperta."
+
+"Don't be giddy; I'm hideous; so behave, and answer all my questions.
+Oh, I'm so unhappy. Answer me, is young people, or old people,
+goodest?"
+
+"You should say best, dear. Good, better, best. Why, old people, to be
+sure--much."
+
+"So I thought; and that is why I am so puzzled. Then your papa and mine
+are much betterer--will that do?--than we are?"
+
+"Of course they are."
+
+"There he goes! Such a child for answering slap bang I never."
+
+"I'm not a child. I'm older than you are, Ruperta."
+
+"That's a story."
+
+"Well, then, I'm as old; for Mary says we were born the same day--the
+same hour--the same minute."
+
+"La! we are twins."
+
+She paused, however, on this discovery, and soon found reason to doubt
+her hasty conclusion. "No such thing," said she: "they tell me the
+bells were ringing for you being found, and then I was found--to
+catechism you."
+
+"There! then you see I _am_ older than you, Ruperta."
+
+"Yes, dear," said Ruperta, very gravely; "I'm younger in my body, but
+older in my head."
+
+This matter being settled so that neither party could complain, since
+antiquity was evenly distributed, the catechizing recommenced.
+
+"Do you believe in 'Let dogs delight?'"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"What!" screamed Ruperta. "Oh, you wicked boy! Why, it comes next after
+the Bible."
+
+"Then I do believe it," said Compton, who, to tell the truth, had been
+merely puzzled by the verb, and was not afflicted with any doubt that
+the composition referred to was a divine oracle.
+
+"Good boy!" said Ruperta, patronizingly. "Well, then, this is what
+puzzles me; your papa and mine don't believe in 'Dogs delight.' They
+have been quarreling this twelve years and more, and mean to go on, in
+spite of mamma. She _is_ good. Didn't you know that your papa and mine
+are great enemies?"
+
+"No, Ruperta. Oh, what a pity!"
+
+"Don't, Compton, don't: there, you have made me cry."
+
+He set himself to console her.
+
+She consented to be consoled.
+
+But she said, with a sigh, "What becomes of old people being better
+than young ones, now? Are you and I bears and lions? Do we scratch out
+each other's eyes? It is all puzzle, puzzle, puzzle. I wish I was dead!
+Nurse says, when I'm dead I shall understand it all. But I don't know;
+I saw a dead cat once, and she didn't seem to know as much as before;
+puzzle, puzzle. Compton, do you think they are puzzled in heaven?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then the sooner we both go there, the better."
+
+"Yes, but not just now."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because of the cowslips."
+
+"Here's a boy! What, would you rather be among the cowslips than the
+angels? and think of the diamonds and pearls that heaven is paved
+with."
+
+"But _you_ mightn't be there."
+
+"What! Am I a wicked girl, then--wickeder than you, that is a boy?"
+
+"Oh no, no, no; but see how big it is up there;" they cast their eyes
+up, and, taking the blue vault for creation, were impressed with its
+immensity. "I know where to find you here, but up there you might be
+ever so far off me."
+
+"La! so I might. Well, then, we had better keep quiet. I suppose we
+shall get wiser as we get older. But Compton, I'm so sorry your papa
+and mine are bears and lions. Why doesn't the clergyman scold them?"
+
+"Nobody dare scold my papa," said Compton, proudly. Then, after
+reflection, "Perhaps, when we are older, we may persuade them to make
+friends. I think it is very stupid to quarrel; don't you?"
+
+"As stupid as an owl."
+
+"You and I had a quarrel once, Ruperta."
+
+"Yes, you misbehaved."
+
+"No, no; you were cross."
+
+"Story! Well, never mind: we _did_ quarrel. And you were miserable
+directly."
+
+"Not so very," said Compton, tossing his head.
+
+"I _was,_ then," said Ruperta, with unguarded candor.
+
+"So was I."
+
+"Good boy! Kiss me, dear."
+
+"There--and there--and there--and--"
+
+"That will do. I want to talk, Compton."
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"I'm not very sure, but I rather think I'm in love with you--a little,
+little bit, you know."
+
+"And I'm sure I'm in love with you, Ruperta."
+
+"Over head an' ears?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I love you to distraction. Bother the gate! If it wasn't for
+that, I could run in the meadow with you; and marry you perhaps, and so
+gather cowslips together for ever and ever."
+
+"Let us open it."
+
+"You can't."
+
+"Let us try."
+
+"I have. It won't be opened."
+
+"Let _me_ try. Some gates want to be lifted up a little, and then they
+will open. There, I told you so."
+
+The gate came open.
+
+Ruperta uttered an exclamation of delight, and then drew back.
+
+"I'm afraid, Compton," said she, "papa would be angry,"
+
+She wanted Compton to tempt her; but that young gentleman, having a
+strong sense of filial duty, omitted so to do.
+
+When she saw he would not persuade her, she dispensed. "Come along,"
+said she, "if it is only for five minutes."
+
+She took his hand, and away they scampered. He showed her the cowslips,
+the violets, and all the treasures of the meadow; but it was all hurry,
+and skurry, and excitement; no time to look at anything above half a
+minute, for fear of being found out: and so, at last, back to the gate,
+beaming with stolen pleasure, glowing and sparkling with heat and
+excitement.
+
+The cunning thing made him replace the gate, and then, after saying she
+must go for about an hour, marched demurely back to the house.
+
+After one or two of these hasty trips, impunity gave her a sense of
+security, and, the weather getting warm, she used to sit in the meadow
+with her beau and weave wreaths of cowslips, and place them in her
+black hair, and for Comp-ton she made coronets of bluebells, and
+adorned his golden head.
+
+And sometimes, for a little while, she would nestle to him, and lean
+her head, with all the feminine grace of a mature woman, on his
+shoulder.
+
+Said she, "A boy's shoulder does very nice for a girl to put her nose
+on."
+
+One day the aspiring girl asked him what was that forest.
+
+"That is Bassett's wood."
+
+"I will go there with you some day, when papa is out."
+
+"I'm afraid that is too far for you," said Compton.
+
+"Nothing is too far for me," replied the ardent girl. "Why, how far is
+it?"
+
+"More than half a mile."
+
+"Is it very big?"
+
+"Immense."
+
+"Belong to the queen?"
+
+"No, to papa."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+And here my reader may well ask what was Lady Bassett about, or did
+Compton, with all his excellent teaching, conceal all this from his
+mother and his friend.
+
+On the contrary, he went open-mouthed to her and told her he had seen
+such a pretty little girl, and gave her a brief account of their
+conversation.
+
+Lady Bassett was startled at first, and greatly perplexed. She told him
+he must on no account go to her; if he spoke to her, it must be on
+papa's ground. She even made him pledge his honor to that.
+
+More than that she did not like to say. She thought it unnecessary and
+undesirable to transmit to another generation the unhappy feud by which
+she had suffered so much, and was even then suffering. Moreover, she
+was as much afraid of Richard Bassett as ever. If he chose to tell his
+girl not to speak to Compton, he might. She was resolved not to go out
+of her way to affront him, through his daughter. Besides, that might
+wound Mrs. Bassett, if it got round to her ears; and, although she had
+never spoken to Mrs. Bassett, yet their eyes had met in church, and
+always with a pacific expression. Indeed, Lady Bassett felt sure she
+had read in that meek woman's face a regret that they were not friends,
+and could not be friends, because of their husbands. Lady Bassett,
+then, for these reasons, would not forbid Compton to be kind to Ruperta
+in moderation.
+
+Whether she would have remained as neutral had she known how far these
+young things were going, is quite another matter; but Compton's
+narratives to her were, naturally enough, very tame compared with the
+reality, and she never dreamed that two seven-year-olds could form an
+attachment so warm, as these little plagues were doing.
+
+And, to conclude, about the time when Mr. Compton first opened the gate
+for his inamorata, Lady Bassett's mind was diverted, in some degree,
+even from her beloved boy Compton, by a new trouble, and a host of
+passions it excited in her own heart.
+
+A thunder-clap fell on Sir Charles Bassett, in the form of a letter
+from Reginald's tutor, informing him that Reginald and another lad had
+been caught wiring hares in a wood at some distance and were now in
+custody.
+
+Sir Charles mounted his horse and rode to the place, leaving Lady
+Bassett a prey to great anxiety and bitter remorse.
+
+Sir Charles came back in two days, with the galling news that his son
+and heir was in prison for a month, all his exertions having only
+prevailed to get the case summarily dealt with.
+
+Reginald's companion, a young gypsy, aged seventeen, had got three
+months, it being assumed that he was the tempter: the reverse was the
+case, though.
+
+When Sir Charles told Lady Bassett all this, with a face of agony, and
+a broken voice, her heart almost burst: she threw every other
+consideration to the winds.
+
+"Charles," she cried, "I can't bear it: I can't see your heart wrung
+any more, and your affections blighted. Tear that young viper out of
+your breast: don't go on wasting your heart's blood on a stranger; HE
+IS NOT YOUR SON."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+AT this monstrous declaration, from the very lips of the man's wife,
+there was a dead silence, Sir Charles being struck dumb, and Lady
+Bassett herself terrified at the sound of the words she had uttered.
+
+After a terrible pause, Sir Charles fixed his eyes on her, with an
+awful look, and said, very slowly, "Will--you--have--the--goodness--
+to--say that again? but first think what you are saying."
+
+This made Lady Bassett shake in every limb; indeed the very flesh of
+her body quivered. Yet she persisted, but in a tone that of itself
+showed how fast her courage was oozing. She faltered out, almost
+inaudibly, "I say you must waste no more love on him--he is not your
+son."
+
+Sir Charles looked at her to see if she was in her senses: it was not
+the first time he had suspected her of being deranged on this one
+subject. But no: she was pale as death, she was cringing, wincing,
+quivering, and her eyes roving to and fro; a picture not of frenzy, but
+of guilt unhardened.
+
+He began to tremble in his turn, and was so horror-stricken and
+agitated that he could hardly speak. "Am I dreaming?" he gasped.
+
+Lady Bassett saw the storm she had raised, and would have given the
+world to recall her words.
+
+"Whose is he, then?" asked Sir Charles, in a voice scarcely human.
+
+"I don't know," said Lady Bassett doggedly.
+
+"Then how dare you say that he isn't mine?"
+
+"Kill me, Charles," cried she, passionately; "but don't look at me so
+and speak to me so. Why I say he is not yours, is he like you either in
+face or mind?"
+
+"And he is like--whom?"
+
+Lady Bassett had lost all her courage by this time: she whimpered out,
+"Like nobody except the gypsies."
+
+"Bella, this is a subject which will part you and me for life unless we
+can agree upon it--"
+
+No reply, in words, from Lady Bassett.
+
+"So please let us understand each other. Your son is not my son. Is
+that what you look me in the face and tell me?"
+
+"Charles, I never said _that._ How could he be my son, and not be
+yours?"
+
+And she raised her eyes, and looked him full in the face: nor fear nor
+cringing now: the woman was majestic.
+
+Sir Charles was a little alarmed in his turn; for his wife's soft eyes
+flamed battle for the first time in her life.
+
+"Now you talk sense," said he; "if he is yours, he is mine; and, as he
+is certainly yours, this is a very foolish conversation, which must not
+be renewed, otherwise--"
+
+"I shall be insulted by my own husband?"
+
+"I think it very probable. And, as I do not choose you to be insulted,
+nor to think yourself insulted, I forbid you ever to recur to this
+subject."
+
+"I will obey, Charles; but let me say one word first. When I was alone
+in London, and hardly sensible, might not this child have been imposed
+upon me and you? I'm sure he was."
+
+"By whom?"
+
+"How can I tell? I was alone--that woman in the house had a bad
+face--the gypsies do these things, I've heard."
+
+"The gypsies! And why not the fairies?" said Sir Charles,
+contemptuously. "Is that all you have to suggest--before we close the
+subject forever?"
+
+"Yes," said Lady Bassett sorrowfully. "I see you take me for a
+mad-woman; but time will show. Oh that I could persuade you to detach
+your affections from that boy--he will break your heart else--and rest
+them on the children that resemble us in mind and features."
+
+"These partialities are allowed to mothers; but a father must be just.
+Reginald is my first-born; he came to me from Heaven at a time when I
+was under a bitter trial, and from the day he was born till this day I
+have been a happy man. It is not often a father owes so much to a son
+as I do to my darling boy. He is dear to my heart in spite of his
+faults; and now I pity him, as well as love him, since it seems he has
+only one parent, poor little fellow!"
+
+Lady Bassett opened her mouth to reply, but could not. She raised her
+hands in mute despair, then quietly covered her face with them, and
+soon the tears trickled through her white fingers.
+
+Sir Charles looked at her, and was touched at her silent grief.
+
+"My darling wife," said he, "I think this is the only thing you and I
+cannot agree upon. Why not be wise as well as loving, and avoid it."
+
+"I will never seek it again," sobbed Lady Bassett. "But oh," she cried,
+with sudden wildness, "something tells me it will meet me, and follow
+me, and rob me of my husband. Well, when that day comes, I shall know
+how to die."
+
+And with this she burst away from him, like some creature who has been
+stung past endurance.
+
+Sir Charles often meditated on this strange scene: turn it how he could
+he came back to the same conclusion, that she must have an
+hallucination on this subject. He said to himself, "If Bella really
+believed the boy was a changeling, she would act upon her conviction,
+she would urge me to take some steps to recover our true child, whom
+the gypsies or the fairies have taken, and given us poor dear Reginald
+instead."
+
+But still the conversation, and her strange looks of terror, lay
+dormant in his mind: both were too remarkable to be ever forgotten.
+Such things lie like certain seeds, awaiting only fresh accidents to
+spring into life.
+
+The month rolled away, and the day came for Reginald's liberation. A
+dogcart was sent for him, and the heir of the Bassetts emerged from a
+county jail, and uttered a whoop of delight; he insisted on driving,
+and went home at a rattling pace.
+
+He was in high spirits till he got in sight of Huntercombe Hall; and
+then it suddenly occurred to his mercurial mind that he should probably
+not be received with an ovation, petty larceny being a novelty in that
+ancient house whose representative he was.
+
+When he did get there he found the whole family in such a state of
+commotion that his return was hardly noticed at all.
+
+
+
+Master Compton's dinner hour was two P.M., and yet, at three o'clock of
+this day, he did not come in.
+
+This was reported to Lady Bassett, and it gave her some little anxiety;
+for she suspected he might possibly be in the company of Ruperta
+Bassett; and, although she did not herself much object to that, she
+objected very much to have it talked about and made a fuss. So she went
+herself to the end of the lawn, and out into the meadow, that a servant
+might not find the young people together, if her suspicion was correct.
+
+She went into the meadow and called "Compton! Compton!" as loud as she
+could, but there was no reply.
+
+Then she came in, and began to be alarmed, and sent servants about in
+all directions.
+
+But two hours elapsed, and there were no tidings. The thing looked
+serious.
+
+She sent out grooms well mounted to scour the country. One of these
+fell in with Sir Charles, who thereupon came home and found his wife in
+a pitiable state. She was sitting in an armchair, trembling and crying
+hysterically.
+
+She caught his hand directly, and grasped it like a vise.
+
+"It is Richard Bassett!" she cried. "He knows how to wound and kill me.
+He has stolen our child."
+
+Sir Charles hurried out, and, soon after that, Reginald arrived, and
+stood awe-struck at her deplorable condition.
+
+Sir Charles came back heated and anxious, kissed Reginald, told him in
+three words his brother was missing, and then informed Lady Bassett
+that he had learned something very extraordinary; Richard Bassett's
+little girl had also disappeared, and his people were out looking after
+her.
+
+"Ah, they are together," cried Lady Bassett.
+
+"Together? a son of mine consorting with that viper's brood!"
+
+"What does that poor child know? Oh, find him for me, if you love that
+dear child's mother!'"
+
+Sir Charles hurried out directly, but was met at the door by a servant,
+who blurted out, "The men have dragged the fish-ponds, Sir Charles, and
+they want to know if they shall drag the brook."
+
+"Hold your tongue, idiot!" cried Sir Charles, and thrust him out; but
+the wiseacre had not spoken in vain. Lady Bassett moaned, and went into
+worse hysterics, with nobody near her but Reginald.
+
+That worthy, never having seen a lady in hysterics, and not being
+hardened at all points, uttered a sympathetic howl, and flung his arms
+round her neck. "Oh! oh! oh! Don't cry, mamma."
+
+Lady Bassett shuddered at his touch, but did not repel him.
+
+"I'll find him for you," said the boy, "if you will leave off crying."
+
+She stared in his face a moment, and then went on as before.
+
+"Mamma," said he, getting impatient, "do listen to me. I'll find him
+easy enough, if you will only listen."
+
+"You! you!" and she stared wildly at him.
+
+"Ay, I know a sight more than the fools about here. I'm a poacher. Just
+you put me on to his track. I'll soon run into him, if he is above
+ground."
+
+"A child like you!" cried Lady Bassett; "how can you do that?" and she
+began to wring her hands again.
+
+"I'll show you," said the boy, getting very impatient, "if you will
+just leave off crying like a great baby, and come to any place you like
+where he has been to-day and left a mark--"
+
+"Ah!" cried Lady Bassett.
+
+"I'm a poacher," repeated Reginald, quite proudly; "you forget that."
+
+"Come with me," cried Lady Bassett, starting up. She whipped on her
+bonnet, and ran with him down the lawn.
+
+"There, Reginald," said she, panting, "I think my darling was here this
+afternoon; yes, yes, he must; for he had a key of the door, and it is
+open."
+
+"All right," said Reginald; "come into the field."
+
+He ran about like a dog hunting, and soon found marks among the
+cowslips.
+
+"Somebody has been gathering a nosegay here to-day," said he; "now,
+mamma, there's only two ways put of this field--let us go straight to
+that gate; that is the likeliest."
+
+Near the gate was some clay, and Reginald showed her several prints of
+small feet.
+
+"Look," said he, "here's the track of two--one's a gal; how I know,
+here's a sole to this shoe no wider nor a knife. Come on."
+
+In the next field he was baffled for a long time; but at last he found
+a place in a dead hedge where they had gone through.
+
+"See," said he, "these twigs are fresh broken, and here's a bit of the
+gal's frock. Oh! won't she catch it?":
+
+"Oh, you brave, clever boy!" cried Lady Bassett.
+
+"Come on!" shouted the urchin.
+
+He hunted like a beagle, and saw like a bird, with his savage,
+glittering eye. He was on fire with the ardor of the chase; and, not to
+dwell too long on what has been so often and so well written by others,
+in about an hour and a half he brought the anxious, palpitating, but
+now hopeful mother, to the neighborhood of Bassett's wood. Here he
+trusted to his own instinct. "They have gone into the wood," said he,
+"and I don't blame 'em. I found my way here long before his age. I say,
+don't you tell; I've snared plenty of the governor's hares in that
+wood."
+
+He got to the edge of the wood and ran down the side. At last he found
+the marks of small feet on a low bank, and, darting over it, discovered
+the fainter traces on some decaying leaves inside the wood.
+
+"There," said he; "now it is just as if you had got them in your
+pocket, for they'll never find their way out of this wood. Bless your
+heart, why _I_ used to get lost in it at first."
+
+"Lost in the wood!" cried Lady Bassett; "but he will die of fear, or be
+eaten by wild beasts; and it is getting so dark."
+
+"What about that? Night or day is all one to me. What will you give me
+if I find him before midnight?"
+
+"Anything I've got in the world."
+
+"Give me a sovereign?"
+
+"A thousand!"
+
+"Give me a kiss?"
+
+"A hundred!"
+
+"Then I'll tell you what I'll do--I don't mind a little trouble, to
+stop your crying, mamma, because you are the right sort. I'll get the
+village out, and we will tread the wood with torches, an' all for them
+as can't see by night; I can see all one; and you shall have your kid
+home to supper. You see, there's a heavy dew, and he is not like me,
+that would rather sleep in this wood than the best bed in London city;
+a night in a wood would about settle his hash. So here goes. I can run
+a mile in six minutes and a half."
+
+With these words, the strange boy was off like an arrow from a bow.
+
+Lady Bassett, exhausted by anxiety and excitement, was glad to sit
+down; her trembling heart would not let her leave the place that she
+now began to hope contained her child. She sat down and waited
+patiently.
+
+The sun set, the moon rose, the stars glittered; the infinite leaves
+stood out dark and solid, as if cut out of black marble; all was dismal
+silence and dread suspense to the solitary watcher.
+
+Yet the lady of Huntercombe Hall sat on, sick at heart, but patient,
+beneath that solemn sky.
+
+She shuddered a little as the cold dews gathered on her, for she was a
+woman nursed in luxury's lap; but she never moved.
+
+The silence was dismal. Had that wild boy forgotten his promise, or
+were there no parents in the village, that their feet lagged so?
+
+It was nearly ten o'clock, when her keen ears, strained to the utmost,
+discovered a faint buzzing of voices; but where she could not tell.
+
+The sounds increased and increased, and then there was a temporary
+silence; and after that a faint hallooing in the wood to her right. The
+wood was five hundred acres, and the bulk of it lay in front and to her
+left.
+
+The hallooing got louder and louder; the whole wood seemed to echo; her
+heart beat high; lights glimmered nearer and nearer, hares and rabbits
+pattered by and startled her, and pheasants thundered off their roosts
+with an incredible noise, owls flitted, and bats innumerable, disturbed
+and terrified by the glaring lights and loud resounding halloos.
+
+Nearer, nearer came the sounds, till at last a line of men and boys,
+full fifty carrying torches and lanterns, came up, and lighted up the
+dew-spangled leaves, and made the mother's heart leap with joyful hope
+at succor so powerful.
+
+Oh, she could have kissed the stout village blacksmith, whose deep
+sonorous lungs rang close to her. Never had any man's voice sounded to
+her so like a god's as this stout blacksmith's "hilloop! hilloop!"
+close and loud in her ear, and those at the end of the line hallooed
+"hillo-op; hillo-op!" like an echo; and so they passed on, through bush
+and brier, till their voices died away in the distance.
+
+A boy detached himself from the line, and ran to Lady Bassett with a
+traveling rug. It was Reginald.
+
+"You put on this," said he. He shook it, and, standing on tiptoe, put
+it over her shoulders.
+
+"Thank you, dear," said she. "Where is papa?"
+
+"Oh, he is in the line, and the Highmore swell and all."
+
+"Mr. Richard Bassett?"
+
+"Air, his kid is out on the loose, as well as ours."
+
+"Oh, Reginald, if they should quarrel!"
+
+"Why, our governor can lick him, can't he?"
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+"OH, don't talk so. I wouldn't for all the world they should quarrel."
+
+"Well, we have got enough fellows to part them if they do."
+
+"Dear Reginald, you have been so good to me, and you are so clever;
+speak to some of the men, and let there be no more quarreling between
+papa and that man."
+
+"All right," said the boy.
+
+"On second thoughts take me to papa; I'll be by his side, and then they
+cannot."
+
+"You want to walk through the wood? that is a good joke. Why, it is
+like walking through a river, and the young wood slapping your eyes,
+for you can't see every twig by this light, and the leaves sponging
+your face and shoulders: and the briers would soon strip your gown into
+ribbons, and make your little ankles bleed. No, you are a lady; you
+stay where you are, and let us men work it. We shan't find him yet
+awhile. I must get near the governor. When we find my lord, I'll give a
+whistle you could hear a mile off."
+
+"Oh, Reginald, are you sure he is in the wood?"
+
+"I'd bet my head to a chany orange. You might as well ask me, when I
+track a badger to his hole, and no signs of his going out again,
+whether old long-claws is there. I wish I was as sure of never going
+back to school as I am of finding that little lot. The only thing I
+don't like is, the young muff's not giving us a halloo back. But, any
+way, I'll find 'em, _alive or dead."_
+
+And, with this pleasing assurance, the little imp scudded off, leaving
+the mother glued to the spot with terror.
+
+For full an hour more the torches gleamed, though fainter and fainter;
+and so full was the wood of echoes, that the voices, though distant,
+seemed to halloo all round the agonized mother.
+
+But presently there was a continuous yell, quite different from the
+isolated shouts, a distant but unmistakable howl of victory that made a
+bolt of ice shoot down her back, and then her heart to glow like fire.
+
+It was followed by a keen whistle.
+
+She fell on her knees and thanked God for her boy.
+
+
+
+In the middle of this wood was a shallow excavation, an old chalk-pit,
+unused for many years. It was never deep, and had been half filled up
+with dead leaves; these, once blown into the hollow, or dropped from
+the trees, had accumulated.
+
+The very middle of the line struck on this place, and Moss, the old
+keeper, who was near the center, had no sooner cast his eyes into it
+than he halted, and uttered a stentorian halloo well known to
+sportsmen--"SEE HO!"
+
+
+
+A dead halt, a low murmur, and in a very few seconds the line was a
+circle, and all the torches that had not expired held high in a flaming
+ring over the prettiest little sight that wood had ever presented.
+
+The old keeper had not given tongue on conjecture, like some youthful
+hound. In a little hollow of leaves, which the boy had scraped out, lay
+Master Compton and Miss Ruperta, on their little backs, each with an
+arm round the other's neck, enjoying the sweet sound sleep of infancy,
+which neither the horror of their situation--babes in the wood--nor the
+shouts of fifty people had in the smallest degree disturbed; to be
+sure, they had undergone great fatigue.
+
+Young master wore a coronet of bluebells on his golden bead, young miss
+a wreath of cowslips on her ebon locks. The pair were flowers, cherubs,
+children--everything that stands for young, tender, and lovely.
+
+The honest villagers gaped, and roared in chorus, and held high their
+torches, and gazed with reverential delight. Not for them was it to
+finger the little gentlefolks, but only to devour them with admiring
+eyes.
+
+Indeed, the picture was carried home to many a humble hearth, and is
+spoken of to this day in Huntercombe village.
+
+But the pale and anxious fathers were in no state to see pictures--they
+only saw their children Sir Charles and Richard Bassett came round with
+the general rush, saw, and dashed into the pit.
+
+Strange to say, neither knew the other was there. Each seized his
+child, and tore it away from the contact of the other child, as if from
+a viper; in which natural but harsh act they saw each other for the
+first time, and their eyes gleamed in a moment with hate and defiance
+over their loving children.
+
+Here was a picture of a different kind, and if the melancholy Jaques,
+or any other gentleman with a foible for thinking in a wood; had been
+there, methinks he had moralized very prettily on the hideousness of
+hate and the beauty of the sentiment it had interrupted so fiercely.
+But it escaped this sort of comment for about eight years. Well, all
+this woke the bairns; the lights dazzled them, the people scared them.
+Each hid a little face on the paternal shoulder.
+
+The fathers, like wild beasts, each carrying off a lamb, withdrew,
+glaring at each other; but the very next moment the stronger and better
+sentiment prevailed, and they kissed and blessed their restored
+treasures, and forgot their enemies for a time.
+
+Sir Charles's party followed him, and supped at Huntercombe, every man
+Jack of them.
+
+Reginald, who had delivered a terrific cat-call, now ran off to Lady
+Bassett. There she was, still on her knees.
+
+"Found! found!" he shouted.
+
+She clasped him in her arms and wept for joy.
+
+"My eyes!" said he, "what a one you are to cry! You come home; you'll
+catch your death o' cold."
+
+"No, no; take me to my child at once."
+
+"Can't be done; the governor has carried him off through the wood; and
+I ain't a going to let you travel the wood. You come with me; we'll go
+the short cut, and be home as soon as them."
+
+She complied, though trembling all over.
+
+On the way he told her where the children had been discovered, and in
+what attitude.
+
+"Little darlings!" said she. "But he has frightened his poor mother,
+and nearly broken her heart. Oh!"
+
+"If you cry any more, mamma--Shut up, I tell you!"
+
+_"Must_ I? Oh!"
+
+"Yes, or you'll catch pepper."
+
+Then he pulled her along, gabbling all the time. "Those two swells
+didn't quarrel after all, you see."
+
+"Thank Heaven!"
+
+"But they looked at each other like hobelixes, and pulled the kids away
+like pison. Ha! ha! I say, the young 'uns ain't of the same mind as the
+old 'uns. I say, though, our Compton is not a bad sort; I'm blowed if
+he hadn't taken off his tippet to put round his gal. I say, don't you
+think that little chap has begun rather early? Why, _I_ didn't trouble
+my head about the gals till I was eleven years old."
+
+Lady Bassett was too much agitated to discuss these delicate little
+questions just then.
+
+She replied as irrelevantly as ever a lady did. "Oh, you good, brave,
+clever boy!" said she.
+
+Then she stopped a moment to kiss him heartily. "I shall never forget
+this night, dear. I shall always make excuses for you. Oh, shall we
+never get home?"
+
+"We shall be home as soon as they will," said Reginald. "Come on."
+
+He gabbled to her the whole way; but the reader has probably had enough
+of his millclack.
+
+Lady Bassett reached home, and had just ordered a large fire in
+Compton's bedroom, when Sir Charles came in, bringing the boy.
+
+The lady ran out screaming, and went down on her knees, with her arms
+out, as only a mother can stretch them to her child.
+
+There was not a word of scolding that night. He had made her suffer;
+but what of that? She had no egotism; she was a true mother. Her boy
+had been lost, and was found; and she was the happiest soul in
+creation.
+
+But the fathers of these babes in the wood were both intensely
+mortified, and took measures to keep those little lovers apart in
+future. Richard Bassett locked up his gate: Sir Charles padlocked his;
+and they both told their wives they really must be more vigilant. The
+poor children, being in disgrace, did not venture to remonstrate! But
+they used often to think of each other, and took a liking to the
+British Sunday; for then they saw each other in church.
+
+By-and-by even that consolation ceased. Ruperta was sent to school, and
+passed her holidays at the sea-side.
+
+
+
+To return to Reginald, he was compelled to change his clothes that
+evening, but was allowed to sit up, and, when the heads of the house
+were a little calmer, became the hero of the night.
+
+Sir Charles, gazing on him with parental pride, said, "Reginald, you
+have begun a new life to-day, and begun it well. Let us forget the
+past, and start fresh to-day, with the love and gratitude of both your
+parents."
+
+The boy hung his head and said nothing in reply.
+
+Lady Bassett came to his assistance. "He will; he will. Don't say a
+word about the past. He is a good, brave, beautiful boy, and I adore
+him."
+
+"And I like you, mamma," said Reginald graciously.
+
+From that day the boy had a champion in Lady Bassett; and Heaven knows,
+she had no sinecure; poor Reginald's virtues were too eccentric to
+balance his faults for long together. His parents could not have a
+child lost in a wood every day; but good taste and propriety can be
+offended every hour when one is so young, active, and savage as Master
+Reginald.
+
+He was up at five, and doing wrong all day.
+
+Hours in the stables, learning to talk horsey, and smell dunghilly.
+
+Hours in the village, gossiping and romping.
+
+In good company, an owl.
+
+In bad, or low company, a cricket, a nightingale, a magpie.
+
+He was seen at a neighboring fair, playing the fiddle in a booth to
+dancing yokels, and receiving their pence.
+
+He was caught by Moss wiring hairs in Bassett's wood, within twenty
+yards of the place where he had found the babes in the wood so nobly.
+
+Remonstrated with tenderly and solemnly, he informed Sir Charles that
+poaching was a thing he could not live without, and he modestly asked
+to have Bassett's wood given him to poach in, offering, as a
+consideration, to keep all other poachers out: as a greater inducement,
+he represented that he should not require a house, but only a coarse
+sheet to stretch across an old saw-pit, and a pair of blankets for
+winter use--one under, one over.
+
+Sir Charles was often sad, sometimes indignant.
+
+Lady Bassett excused each enormity with pathetic ingenuity; excused,
+but suffered, and indeed pined visibly, for all this time he was
+tormenting her as few women in her position have been tormented. Her
+life was a struggle of contesting emotions; she was wounded, harassed,
+perplexed, and so miserable, she would have welcomed death, that her
+husband might read that Manuscript and cease to suffer, and she escape
+the shame of confessing, and of living after it.
+
+In one word, she was expiating.
+
+Neither the excuses she made nor the misery she suffered escaped Sir
+Charles.
+
+He said to her at last, "My own Bella, this unhappy boy is killing you.
+Dear as he is to me, you are dearer. I must send him away again."
+
+"He saved our darling," said she, faintly, but she could say no more.
+He had exhausted excuse.
+
+Sir Charles made inquiries everywhere, and at last his attention was
+drawn to the following advertisement in the _Times:_
+
+
+
+UNMANAGEABLE, Backward, or other BOYS, carefully TRAINED, and EDUCATED,
+by a married rector. Home comforts. Moderate terms. Address Dr.
+Beecher, Fennymore, Cambridgeshire.
+
+
+
+He wrote to this gentleman, and the correspondence was encouraging.
+"These scapegraces," said the artist in tuition, "are like crab-trees;
+abominable till you graft them, and then they bear the best fruit."
+
+While the letters were passing, came a climax. Reckless Reginald could
+keep no bounds intact: his inward definition of a boundary was "a thing
+you should go a good way out of your way rather than not overleap."
+
+Accordingly, he was often on Highmore farm at night, and even in
+Highmore garden; the boundary wall tempted him so.
+
+One light but windy night, when everybody that could put his head under
+cover, and keep it there, did, reckless Reginald was out enjoying the
+fresh breezes; he mounted the boundary wall of Highmore like a cat, to
+see what amusement might offer. Thus perched, he speedily discovered a
+bright light in Highmore dining-room.
+
+He dropped from the wall directly, and stole softly over the grass and
+peered in at the window.
+
+He saw a table with a powerful lamp on it; on that table, and gleaming
+in that light, were several silver vessels of rare size and
+workmanship, and Mr. Bassett, with his coat off, and a green baize
+apron on, was cleaning one of these with brush and leather. He had
+already cleaned the others, for they glittered prodigiously.
+
+Reginald's black eye gloated and glittered at this unexpected display
+of wealth in so dazzling a form.
+
+But this was nothing to the revelation in store. When Mr. Bassett had
+done with that piece of plate he went to the paneled wall, and opened a
+door so nicely adapted to the panels, that a stranger would hardly have
+discovered it. Yet it was an enormous door, and, being opened, revealed
+a still larger closet, lined with green velvet and fitted with shelves
+from floor to ceiling.
+
+Here shone, in all their glory, the old plate of two good families:
+that is to say, half the old plate of the Bassetts, and all the old
+plate of the Goodwyns, from whom came Highmore to Richard Bassett
+through his mother Ruperta Goodwyn, so named after her grandmother; so
+named after her aunt; so named after her godmother; so named after her
+father, Prince Rupert, cavalier, chemist, glass-blower, etc., etc.
+
+The wall seemed ablaze with suns and moons, for many of the chased
+goblets, plates, and dishes were silver-gilt: none of your filmy
+electro-plate, but gold laid on thick, by the old mercurial process, in
+days when they that wrought in precious metals were honest--for want of
+knowing how to cheat.
+
+Glued to the pane, gloating on this constellation of gold suns and
+silver moons, and trembling with Bohemian excitement, reckless Reginald
+heard not a stealthy step upon the grass behind him.
+
+He had trusted to a fact in optics, forgetting the doctrine of shadows.
+
+The Scotch servant saw from a pantry window the shadow of a cap
+projected on the grass, with a face, and part of a body. She stepped
+out, and got upon the grass.
+
+Finding it was only a boy, she was brave as well as cunning; and, owing
+to the wind and his absorption, stole on him unheard, and pinned him
+with her strong hands by both his shoulders.
+
+Young Hopeful uttered a screech of dismay, and administered a back kick
+that made Jessie limp for two days, and scream very lustily for the
+present.
+
+Mr. Bassett, at this dialogue of yells, dropped a coffee-pot with a
+crash and a tinkle, and ran out directly, and secured young Hopeful,
+who thereupon began to quake and remonstrate.
+
+"I was only taking a look," said he. "Where's the harm of that?"
+
+"You were trespassing, sir," said Richard Bassett.
+
+"What is the harm of that, governor? You can come over all our place,
+for what I care."
+
+"Thank you. I prefer to keep to my own place."
+
+"Well, I don't. I say, old chap, don't hit me. 'Twas I put 'em all on
+the scent of your kid, you know."
+
+"So I have heard. Well, then, this makes us quits."
+
+"Don't it? You ain't such a bad sort, after all."
+
+"Only mind, Mr. Bassett, if I catch you prying here again, that will be
+a fresh account, and I shall open it with a horsewhip."
+
+He then gave him a little push, and the boy fled like the wind. When he
+was gone, Richard Bassett became rather uneasy. He had hitherto
+concealed, even from his own family, the great wealth his humble home
+contained. His secret was now public. Reginald had no end of low
+companions. If burglars got scent of this, it might be very awkward. At
+last he hit upon a defense. He got one of those hooks ending in a screw
+which are used for pictures, and screwed it into the inside of the
+cupboard door near the top. To this he fastened a long piece of catgut,
+and carried it through the floor. His bed was just above the cupboard
+door, and he attached the gut to a bell by his bedside. By this means
+nobody could open that cupboard without ringing in his ears.
+
+Jessie told Tom, Tom told Maria and Harriet; Harriet and Maria told
+everybody; somebody told Sir Charles. He was deeply mortified.
+
+"You young idiot!" said he, "would nothing less than this serve your
+turn? must you go and lower me and yourself by giving just offense to
+my one enemy?--the man I hate and despise, and who is always on the
+watch to injure or affront me. Oh, who would be a father! There, pack
+up your things; you will go to school next morning at eight o'clock."
+
+Mr. Reginald packed accordingly, but that did not occupy long; so he
+sallied forth, and, taking for granted that it was Richard Bassett who
+had been so mean as to tell, he purchased some paint and brushes and a
+rope, and languished until midnight.
+
+But when that magic hour came he was brisk as a bee, let himself down
+from his veranda, and stole to Richard Bassett's front door, and
+inscribed thereon, in large and glaring letters,
+
+"JERRY SNEAK, ESQ., Tell-Tale Tit."
+
+He then returned home much calmed and comforted, climbed up his rope
+and into his room, and there slept sweetly, as one who had discharged
+his duty to his neighbor and society in general.
+
+In the morning, however, he was very active, hurried the grooms, and
+was off before the appointed time.
+
+Sir Charles came down to breakfast, and lo! young Hopeful gone, without
+the awkward ceremony of leave-taking.
+
+Sir Charles found, as usual, many delicacies on his table, and among
+them one rarer to him than ortolan, pin-tail, or wild turkey (in which
+last my soul delights); for he found a letter from Richard Bassett,
+Esq.
+
+
+
+"SIR--Some nights since we caught your successor that is to be, at my
+dining-room window, prying into my private affairs. Having the honor of
+our family at heart, I was about to administer a little wholesome
+correction, when he reminded me he had been instrumental in tracking
+Miss Bassett, and thereby rescuing her: upon this I was, naturally,
+mollified, and sent him about his business, hoping to have seen the
+last of him at Highmore.
+
+"This morning my door is covered with opprobrious epithets, and as Mr.
+Bassett bought paint and brushes at the shop yesterday afternoon, it is
+doubtless to him I am indebted for them.
+
+"I make no comments; I simply record the facts, and put them down to
+your credit, and your son's.
+
+"Your obedient servant,
+
+"RICHARD BASSETT."
+
+
+
+Lady Bassett did not come down to breakfast that morning; so Sir
+Charles digested this dish in solitude.
+
+He was furious with Reginald; but as Richard Bassett's remonstrance was
+intended to insult him, he wrote back as follows:
+
+
+
+"SIR--I am deeply grieved that a son of mine should descend to look in
+at your windows, or to write anything whatever upon your door; and I
+will take care it shall never recur.
+
+"Yours obediently,
+
+"CHARLES DYKE BASSETT."
+
+
+
+This little correspondence was salutary; it fanned the coals of hatred
+between the cousins.
+
+
+
+Reckless Reginald soon found he had caught a Tartar in his new master.
+
+That gentleman punished him severely for every breach of discipline.
+The study was a cool dark room, with one window looking north, and that
+window barred. Here he locked up the erratic youth for hours at a time,
+upon the slightest escapade.
+
+Reginald wrote a honeyed letter to Sir Charles, bewailing his lot, and
+praying to be removed.
+
+Sir Charles replied sternly, and sent him a copy of Mr. Richard
+Bassett's letter. He wrote to Mr. Beecher at the same time, expressing
+his full approval.
+
+Thus disciplined, the boy began to change; he became moody, sullen,
+silent, and even sleepy. This was the less wonderful, that he generally
+escaped at night to a gypsy camp, and courted a gypsy girl, who was
+nearly as handsome as himself, besides being older, and far more
+knowing.
+
+His tongue went like a mill, and the whole tribe soon knew all about
+him and his parents.
+
+One morning the servants got up supernaturally early, to wash. Mr.
+Reginald was detected stealing back to his roost, and reported to the
+master.
+
+Mr. Beecher had him up directly, locked him into the study alone, put
+the other students into the drawing-room, and erected bars to his
+bedroom window.
+
+A few days of this, and he pined like a bird in a cage.
+
+A few more, and his gypsy girl came fortune-telling to the servants,
+and wormed out the truth.
+
+Then she came at night under his window, and made him a signal. He told
+her his hard case, and told her also a resolution he had come to. She
+informed the tribe. The tribe consulted. A keen saw was flung up to
+him; in two nights he was through the bars; the third he was free, and
+joined his sable friends.
+
+They struck their tents, and decamped with horses, asses, tents, and
+baggage, and were many miles away by daybreak, without troubling
+turnpikes.
+
+The boy left not a line behind him, and Mr. Beecher half hoped he might
+come back; still he sent to the nearest station, and telegraphed to
+Huntercombe.
+
+Sir Charles mounted a fleet horse, and rode off at once into
+Cambridgeshire. He set inquiries on foot, and learned that the boy had
+been seen consorting with a tribe of gypsies. He heard, also, that
+these were rather high gypsies, many of them foreigners; and that they
+dealt in horses, and had a farrier; and that one or two of the girls
+were handsome, and also singers.
+
+Sir Charles telegraphed for detectives from London; wrote to the mayors
+of towns; advertised, with full description and large reward, and
+brought such pressure to bear upon the Egyptians, that the band begin
+to fear: they consulted, and took measures for their own security; none
+too soon, for, they being encamped on Grey's Common in Oxfordshire, Sir
+Charles and the rural police rode into the camp and demanded young
+Hopeful.
+
+They were equal to the occasion; at first they knew nothing of the
+matter, and, with injured innocence, invited a full inspection.
+
+The invitation was accepted.
+
+Then, all of a sudden, one of the women affected to be struck with an
+idea. "It is the young gentleman who wanted to join us in
+Cambridgeshire."
+
+Then all their throats opened at once. "Yes, gentleman, there was a
+lovely young gentleman wanted to come with us; but we wouldn't have
+him. What could we do with him?"
+
+Sir Charles left them under surveillance, and continued his researches,
+telegraphing Lady Bassett twice every day.
+
+A dark stranger came into Huntercombe village, no longer young, but
+still a striking figure: had once, no doubt, been superlatively
+handsome. Even now, his long hair was black and his eye could glitter:
+but his life had impregnated his noble features with hardness and
+meanness; his large black eye was restless, keen, and servile: an
+excellent figure for a painter, though; born in Spain, he was not
+afraid of color, had a red cap on his snaky black hair, and a striped
+waistcoat.
+
+He inquired for Mr. Meyrick's farm.
+
+He soon found his way thither, and asked for Mrs. Meyrick.
+
+The female servant who opened the door ran her eye up and down him, and
+said, bruskly, "What do you want with her, my man? because she is
+busy."
+
+"Oh, she will see me, miss."
+
+Softened by the "miss," the girl laughed, and said, "What makes you
+think that, my man?"
+
+"Give her this, miss," said the gypsy, "and she will come to me."
+
+He held her out a dirty crumpled piece of paper.
+
+Sally, whose hands were wet from the tub, whipped her hand under the
+corner of her checkered apron, and so took the note with a finger and
+thumb operating through the linen. By this means she avoided two
+evils--her fingers did not wet the letter, and the letter did not dirty
+her fingers.
+
+She took it into the kitchen to her mistress, whose arms were deep in a
+wash-tub.
+
+Mrs. Meyrick had played the fine lady at first starting, and for six
+months would not put her hand to anything. But those twin cajolers of
+the female heart, Dignity and Laziness, made her so utterly wretched,
+that she returned to her old habits of work, only she combined with it
+the sweets of domination.
+
+Sally came in and said, "It's an old gypsy, which he have brought you
+this."
+
+Mrs. Meyrick instantly wiped the soapsuds from her brown but shapely
+arms, and, whipping a wet hand under her apron, took the note just as
+Sally had. It contained these words only:
+
+
+
+"NURSE--The old Romance will tell you all about me.
+
+"REGINALD."
+
+
+
+She had no sooner read it than she took her sleeves down, and whipped
+her shawl off a peg and put it on, and took off her apron--and all for
+an old gypsy. No stranger must take her for anything but a lady.
+
+Thus embellished in a turn of the hand, she went hastily to the door.
+
+She and the gypsy both started at sight of each other, and Mrs. Meyrick
+screamed.
+
+
+
+"Why, what brings you here, old man?" said she, panting. The gypsy
+answered with oily sweetness, "The little gentleman sent me, my dear.
+Why, you look like a queen."
+
+"Hush!" said Mrs. Meyrick.--"Come in here."
+
+She made the old gypsy sit down, and she sat close to him.
+
+"Speak low, daddy," said she, "and tell me all about my boy, my
+beautiful boy."
+
+The old gypsy told Mrs. Meyrick the wrongs of Reginald that had driven
+him to this; and she fell to crying and lamenting, and inveighing
+against all concerned--schoolmaster, Sir Charles, Lady Bassett, and the
+gypsies. Them the old man defended, and assured her the young gentleman
+was in good hands, and would be made a little king of, all the more
+that Keturah had told them there was gypsy blood in him.
+
+Mrs. Meyrick resented this loudly, and then returned to her grief.
+
+When she had indulged that grief for a long time, she felt a natural
+desire to quarrel with somebody, and she actually put on her bonnet,
+and was going to the Hall to give Lady Bassett a bit of her mind, for
+she said that lady had never shown the feelings of a woman for the
+lamb.
+
+But she thought better of it, and postponed the visit. "I shall be sure
+to say something I shall be sorry for after," said she; so she sat down
+again, and returned to her grief.
+
+Nor could she ever shake it off as thoroughly as she had done any other
+trouble in her life.
+
+Months after this, she said to Sally, with a burst of tears, "I never
+nursed but one, and I shall never nurse another; and now he is across
+the seas."
+
+She kept the old gypsy at the farm; or, to speak more correctly, she
+made the farm his headquarters. She assigned him the only bedroom he
+would accept, viz., a cattle-shed, open on one side. She used often to
+have him into her room when she was alone; she gave him some of her
+husband's clothes, and made him wear a decent hat; by these means she
+effaced, in some degree, his nationality, and then she compelled her
+servants to call him "the foreign gent."
+
+The foreign gent was very apt to disappear in fine weather, but rain
+soon drove him back to her fireside, and hunger to her flesh-pots.
+
+On the very day the foreign gent came to Meyrick's farm Lady Bassett
+had a letter by post from Reginald.
+
+
+
+"DEAR MAMMA--I am gone with the gypsies across the water. I am sorry to
+leave you. You are the right sort: but they tormented me so with their
+books and their dark rooms. It is very unfortunate to be a boy. When I
+am a man, I shall be too old to be tormented, and then I will come
+back.
+
+"Your dutiful son,
+
+"REGINALD."
+
+
+
+Lady Bassett telegraphed Sir Charles, and he returned to Huntercombe,
+looking old, sad, and worn.
+
+Lady Bassett set herself to comfort and cheer him, and this was her
+gentle office for many a long month.
+
+She was the more fit for it, that her own health and spirits revived
+the moment Reginald left the country with his friends the gypsies; the
+color crept back to her cheek, her spirits revived, and she looked as
+handsome, and almost as young, as when she married. She tasted
+tranquillity. Year after year went by without any news of Reginald, and
+the hope grew that he would never cross her threshold again, and
+Compton be Sir Charles's heir without any more trouble.
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+OUR story now makes a bold skip. Compton Bassett was fourteen years
+old, a youth highly cultivated in mind and trained in body, but not
+very tall, and rather effeminate looking, because he was so fair and
+his skin so white.
+
+For all that, he was one of the bowlers in the Wolcombe Eleven, whose
+cricket-ground was the very meadow in which he had erst gathered
+cowslips with Ruperta Bassett; and he had a canoe, which he carried to
+adjacent streams, however narrow, and paddled it with singular skill
+and vigor. A neighboring miller, suffering under drought, was heard to
+say, "There ain't water enough to float a duck; nought can swim but the
+dab-chicks and Muster Bassett."
+
+He was also a pedestrian, and got his father to take long walks with
+him, and leave the horses to eat their oats in peace.
+
+In these walks young master botanized and geologized his own father,
+and Sir Charles gave him a little politics, history, and English
+poetry, in return. He had a tutor fresh from Oxford for the classics.
+
+One day, returning with his father from a walk, they met a young lady
+walking toward them from the village; she was tall, and a superb
+brunette.
+
+Now it was rather a rare thing to see a lady walking through that
+village, so both Sir Charles and his son looked keenly at her as she
+came toward them.
+
+Compton turned crimson, and raised his hat to her rather awkwardly.
+
+Sir Charles, who did not know the lady from Eve, saluted her,
+nevertheless, and with infinite grace; for Sir Charles, in his youth,
+had lived with some of the elite of French society, and those gentlemen
+bow to the person whom their companion bows to. Sir Charles had
+imported this excellent trait of politeness, and always practiced it,
+though not the custom in England, the more the pity.
+
+As soon as the young lady had passed and was out of hearing, Sir
+Charles said to Compton, "Who is that lovely girl? Why, how the boy is
+blushing!"
+
+"Oh, papa!"
+
+"Well, what is the matter?"
+
+"Don't you see? It is herself come back from school."
+
+"I have no doubt it is herself, and not her sister, but who is
+herself?"
+
+"Ruperta Bassett."
+
+"Richard Bassett's daughter! impossible. That young lady looks
+seventeen or eighteen years of age."
+
+"Yes, but it is Ruperta. There's nobody like her. Papa!"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I suppose I may speak to her now."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"She is so beautiful."
+
+"That she really is. And therefore I advise you to have nothing to say
+to her. You are not children now, you know. Were you to renew that
+intimacy, you might be tempted to fall in love with her. I don't say
+you would be so mad, for you are a sensible boy; but still, after that
+little business in the wood--"
+
+"But suppose I did fall in love with her?"
+
+"Then that would be a great misfortune. Don't you know that her father
+is my enemy? If you were to make any advances to that young lady, he
+would seize the opportunity to affront you, and me through you."
+
+This silenced Compton, for he was an obedient youth.
+
+But in the evening he got to his mother and coaxed her to take his
+part.
+
+Now Lady Bassett felt the truth of all her husband had said; but she
+had a positive wish the young people should be on friendly terms, at
+all events; she wanted the family feud to die with the generation it
+had afflicted. She promised, therefore, to speak to Sir Charles; and so
+great was her influence that she actually obtained terms for Compton:
+he might speak to Miss Bassett, if he would realize the whole
+situation, and be very discreet, and not revive that absurd familiarity
+into which, their childhood had been betrayed.
+
+She communicated this to him, and warned him at the same time that even
+this concession had been granted somewhat reluctantly, and in
+consideration of his invariable good conduct; it would be immediately
+withdrawn upon the slightest indiscretion.
+
+"Oh, I will be discretion itself," said Compton; but the warmth with
+which he kissed his mother gave her some doubts. However, she was
+prepared to risk something. She had her own views in this matter.
+
+When he had got this limited permission, Master Compton was not much
+nearer the mark; for he was not to call on the young lady, and she did
+not often walk in the village.
+
+But he often thought of her, her loving, sprightly ways seven years
+ago, and the blaze of beauty with which she had returned.
+
+At last, one Sunday afternoon, she came to church alone. When the
+congregation dispersed, he followed her, and came up with her, but his
+heart beat violently.
+
+"Miss Bassett!" said he, timidly.
+
+She stopped, and turned her eyes on him; he blushed up to the temples.
+She blushed too, but not quite so much.
+
+"I am afraid you don't remember me," said the boy, sadly.
+
+"Yes, I do, sir," said Ruperta, shyly.
+
+"How you are grown!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You are taller than I am, and more beautiful than ever."
+
+No answer, but a blush.
+
+"You are not angry with me for speaking to you?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"I wouldn't offend you."
+
+"I am not offended. Only--"
+
+"Oh, Miss Bassett, of course I know you will never be--we shall never
+be--like we used."
+
+A very deep blush, and dead silence.
+
+"You are a grown-up young lady, and I am only a boy still, somehow. But
+it _would_ have been hard if I might not even speak to you. Would it
+not?"
+
+"Yes," said the young lady, but after some hesitation, and only in a
+whisper.
+
+"I wonder where you walk to. I have never seen you out but once."
+
+No reply to this little feeler.
+
+Then, at last, Compton was discouraged, partly by her beauty and size,
+partly by her taciturnity.
+
+He was silent in return, and so, in a state of mutual constraint, they
+reached the gate of Highmore.
+
+"Good-by," said Compton reluctantly.
+
+"Good-by,"
+
+"Won't you shake hands?"
+
+She blushed, and put out her hand halfway. He took it and shook it, and
+so they parted.
+
+Compton said to his mother disconsolately, "Mamma, it is all over. I
+have seen her, and spoken to her; but she has gone off dreadfully."
+
+"Why, what is the matter?"
+
+"She is all changed. She is so stupid and dignified got to be. She has
+not a word to say to a fellow."
+
+"Perhaps she is more reserved; that is natural. She is a young lady
+now."
+
+"Then it is a great pity she did not stay as she was. Oh, the bright
+little darling! Who'd think she could ever turn into a great, stupid,
+dignified thing? She is as tall as you, mamma."
+
+"Indeed! She has made use of her time. Well, dear, don't take _too
+much_ notice of her, and then you will find she will not be nearly so
+shy."
+
+"Too much notice! I shall never speak to her again--perhaps."
+
+"I would not be violent, one way or the other. Why not treat her like
+any other acquaintance?"
+
+Next Sunday afternoon she came to church alone.
+
+In spite of his resolution, Mr. Compton tried her a second time.
+Horror! she was all monosyllables and blushes again.
+
+Compton began to find it too up-hill. At last, when they reached
+Highmore gate, he lost his patience, and said, "I see how it is. I have
+lost my sweet playmate forever. Good-by, Ruperta; I won't trouble you
+any more." And he held out his hand to the young lady for a final
+farewell.
+
+Ruperta whipped both her hands behind her back like a school-girl, and
+then, recovering her dignity, cast one swift glance of gentle reproach,
+then suddenly assuming vast stateliness, marched into Highmore like the
+mother of a family. These three changes of manner she effected all in
+less than two seconds.
+
+Poor Compton went away sorely puzzled by this female kaleidoscope, but
+not a little alarmed and concerned at having mortally offended so much
+feminine dignity.
+
+After that he did not venture to accost her for some time, but he cast
+a few sheep's-eyes at her in church.
+
+Now Ruperta had told her mother all; and her mother had not forbidden
+her to speak to Compton, but had insisted on reserve and discretion.
+
+She now told her mother she thought he would not speak to her any more,
+she had snubbed him so.
+
+"Dear me!" said Mrs. Bassett, "why did you do that? Can you not be
+polite and nothing more?"
+
+"No, mamma."
+
+"Why not? He is very amiable. Everybody says so."
+
+"He is. But I keep remembering what a forward girl I was, and I am
+afraid he has not forgotten it either, and that makes me hate the poor
+little fellow; no, not hate him; but keep him off. I dare say he thinks
+me a cross, ill-tempered thing; and I _am_ very unkind to him, but I
+can't help it."
+
+"Never mind," said Mrs. Bassett; "that is much better than to be too
+forward. Papa would never forgive that."
+
+By-and-by there was a cricket-match in the farmer's meadow, Highcombe
+and Huntercombe eleven against the town of Staveleigh. All clubs liked
+to play at Huntercombe, because Sir Charles found the tents and the
+dinner, and the young farmers drank his champagne to their hearts'
+content.
+
+Ruperta took her maid and went to see the match. They found it going
+against Huntercombe. The score as follows--
+
+Staveleigh. First innings, a hundred and forty-eight runs.
+
+Huntercombe eighty-eight.
+
+Staveleigh. Second innings, sixty runs, and only one wicket down; and
+Johnson and Wright, two of their best men, well in, and masters of the
+bowling.
+
+This being communicated to Ruperta, she became excited, and her soul in
+the game.
+
+The batters went on knocking the balls about, and scored thirteen more
+before the young lady's eyes.
+
+"Oh, dear!" said she, "what is that boy about? Why doesn't he bowl?
+They pretend he is a capital bowler."
+
+At this time Compton was standing long-field on, only farther from the
+wicket than usual.
+
+Johnson, at the wicket bowled to, being a hard but not very scientific
+hitter, lifted a half volley ball right over the bowler's head, a hit
+for four, but a skyscraper. Compton started the moment he hit, and,
+running with prodigious velocity, caught the ball descending, within a
+few yards of Ruperta; but, to get at it, he was obliged to throw
+himself forward into the air; he rolled upon the grass, but held the
+ball in sight all the while.
+
+Mr. Johnson was out, and loud acclamations rent the sky.
+
+Compton rose, and saw Ruperta clapping her hands close by.
+
+She left off and blushed, directly he saw her. He blushed too, and
+touched his cap to her, with an air half manly, half sheepish, but did
+not speak to her.
+
+This was the last ball of the over, and, as the ball was now to be
+delivered from the other wicket, Compton took the place of long-leg.
+
+The third ball was overpitched to leg, and Wright, who, like most
+country players, hit freely to leg, turned half, and caught this ball
+exactly right, and sent it whizzing for five.
+
+But the very force of the stroke was fatal to him; the ball went at
+first bound right into Compton's hands, who instantly flung it back,
+like a catapult, at Wright's wicket.
+
+Wright, having hit for five, and being unable to see what had become of
+the ball, started to run, as a matter of course.
+
+But the other batsman, seeing the ball go right into long-leg's hands
+like a bullet, cried, "Back!"
+
+Wright turned, and would have got back to his wicket if the ball had
+required handling by the wicket-keeper; but, by a mixture of skill with
+luck, it came right at the wicket. Seeing which, the wicket-keeper very
+judiciously let it alone, and it carried off the bails just half a
+second before Mr. Wright grounded his bat.
+
+"How's that, umpire?" cried the wicket-keeper.
+
+"Out!" said the Staveleigh umpire, who judged at that end.
+
+Up went the ball into the air, amid great excitement of the natives.
+
+Ruperta, carried away by the general enthusiasm, nodded all sparkling
+to Compton, and that made his heart beat and his soul aspire. So next
+over he claimed his rights, and took the ball. Luck still befriended
+him: he bowled four wickets in twelve overs; the wicket-keeper stumped
+a fifth: the rest were "the tail," and disposed of for a few runs, and
+the total was no more than Huntercombe's first innings.
+
+Our hero then took the bat, and made forty-seven runs before he was
+disposed of, five wickets down for a hundred and ten runs. The match
+was not won yet, nor sure to be; but the situation was reversed.
+
+On going out, he was loudly applauded; and Ruperta naturally felt proud
+of her admirer.
+
+Being now free, he came to her irresolutely with some iced champagne.
+
+Ruperta declined, with thanks; but he looked so imploringly that she
+sipped a little, and said, warmly, "I hope we shall win: and, if we do,
+I know whom we shall have to thank."
+
+"And so do I: you, Miss Bassett."
+
+"Me? Why, what have _I_ done in the matter?"
+
+"You brought us luck, for one thing. You put us on our mettle.
+Staveleigh shall never beat _me,_ with you looking on."
+
+Ruperta blushed a little, for the boy's eyes beamed with fire.
+
+"If I believed that," said she, "I should hire myself out at the next
+match, and charge twelve pairs of gloves."
+
+"You may believe it, then; ask anybody whether our luck did not change
+the moment you came."
+
+"Then I am afraid it will go now, for I am going."
+
+"You will lose us the match if you do," said Compton.
+
+"I can't help it: now you are out, it is rather insipid. There, you see
+I can pay compliments as well as you."
+
+Then she made a graceful inclination and moved away.
+
+Compton felt his heart ache at parting. He took a thought and ran
+quickly to a certain part of the field.
+
+Ruperta and her attendant walked very slowly homeward.
+
+Compton caught them just at their own gate. "Cousin!" said he,
+imploringly, and held her out a nosegay of cowslips only.
+
+At that the memories rushed back on her, and the girl seemed literally
+to melt. She gave him one look full of womanly sensibility and winning
+tenderness, and said, softly, "Thank you, cousin."
+
+Compton went away on wings: the ice was broken.
+
+But the next time he met her it had frozen again apparently: to be sure
+she was alone; and young ladies will be bolder when they have another
+person of their own sex with them.
+
+
+
+Mr. Angelo called on Sir Charles Bassett to complain of a serious
+grievance.
+
+Mr. Angelo had become zealous and eloquent, but what are eloquence and
+zeal against sex? A handsome woman had preached for ten minutes upon a
+little mound outside the village, and had announced she should say a
+few parting words next Sunday evening at six o'clock.
+
+Mr. Angelo complained of this to Lady Bassett.
+
+Lady Bassett referred him to Sir Charles.
+
+Mr. Angelo asked that magistrate to enforce the law against
+conventicles.
+
+Sir Charles said he thought the Act did not apply.
+
+"Well, but," said Angelo, "it is on your ground she is going to
+preach."
+
+"I am the proprietor, but the tenant is the owner in law. He could warn
+_me_ off his ground. I have no power."
+
+"I fear you have no inclination," said Angelo, nettled.
+
+"Not much, to tell the truth," replied Sir Charles coolly. "Does it
+matter so very much _who_ sows the good seed, or whether it is flung
+abroad from a pulpit or a grassy knoll?"
+
+"That is begging the question, Sir Charles. Why assume that it is good
+seed? it is more likely to be tares than wheat in this case."
+
+"And is not that begging the question? Well, I will make it my business
+to know: and if she preaches sedition, or heresy, or bad morals, I will
+strain my power a little to silence her. More than that I really cannot
+promise you. The day is gone by for intolerance."
+
+"Intolerance is a bad thing; but the absence of all conviction is
+worse, and that is what we are coming to."
+
+"Not quite that: but the nation has tasted liberty; and now every man
+assumes to do what is right in his own eyes."
+
+"That mean's what is wrong in his neighbor's."
+
+Sir Charles thought this neat, and laughed good-humoredly: he asked the
+rector to dine on Sunday at half-past seven. "I shall know more about
+it by that time," said he.
+
+They dined early on Sunday, at Highmore, and Ruperta took her maid for
+a walk in the afternoon, and came back in time to hear the female
+preacher.
+
+Half the village was there already, and presently the preacher walked
+to her station.
+
+To Ruperta's surprise, she was a lady, richly dressed, tall and
+handsome, but with features rather too commanding. She had a glove on
+her left hand, and a little Bible in her right hand, which was large,
+but white, and finely formed.
+
+She delivered a short prayer, and opened her text:
+
+"Walk honestly; not in strife and envying."
+
+Just as the text was given out, Ruperta's maid pinched her, and the
+young lady, looking up, saw her father coming to see what was the
+matter. Maid was for hiding, but Ruperta made a wry face, blushed, and
+stood her ground. "How can he scold me, when he comes himself?" she
+whispered.
+
+During the sermon, of which, short as it was, I can only afford to give
+the outline, in crept Compton Bassett, and got within three or four of
+Ruperta.
+
+Finally Sir Charles Bassett came up, in accordance with his promise to
+Angelo.
+
+The perfect preacher deals in generalities, but strikes them home with
+a few personalities.
+
+Most clerical preachers deal only in generalities, and that is
+ineffective, especially to uncultivated minds.
+
+Mrs. Marsh, as might be expected from her sex, went a little too much
+the other way.
+
+After a few sensible words, pointing out the misery in houses, and the
+harm done to the soul, by a quarrelsome spirit, she lamented there was
+too much of it in Huntercombe: with this opening she went into
+personalities: reminded them of the fight between two farm servants
+last week, one of whom was laid up at that moment in consequence.
+"And," said she, "even when it does not come to fighting, it poisons
+your lives and offends your Redeemer."
+
+Then she went into the causes, and she said Drunkenness and Detraction
+were the chief causes of strife and contention.
+
+She dealt briefly but dramatically with Drunkenness, and then lashed
+Detraction, as follows:
+
+"Every class has its vices, and Detraction is the vice of the poor. You
+are ever so much vainer than your betters: you are eaten up with
+vanity, and never give your neighbor a good word. I have been in thirty
+houses, and in not one of those houses has any poor man or poor woman
+spoken one honest word in praise of a neighbor. So do not flatter
+yourselves this is a Christian village, for it is not. The only excuse
+to be made for you, and I fear it is not one that God will accept on
+His judgment-day, is that your betters set you a bad example instead of
+a good one. The two principal people in this village are kinsfolk, yet
+enemies, and have been enemies for twenty years. That's a nice example
+for two Christian gentlemen to set to poor people, who, they may be
+sure, will copy their sins, if they copy nothing else.
+
+"They go to church regularly, and believe in the Bible, and yet they
+defy both Church and Bible.
+
+"Now I should like to ask those gentlemen a question. How do they mean
+to manage in Heaven? When the baronet comes to that happy place, where
+all is love, will the squire walk out? Or do they think to quarrel
+there, and so get turned out, both of them? I don't wonder at your
+smiling; but it is a serious consideration, for all that. The soul of
+man is immortal: and what is the soul? it is not a substantial thing,
+like the body; it is a bundle of thoughts and feelings: the thoughts we
+die with in this world, we shall wake up with them in the next. Yet
+here are two Christians loading their immortal souls with immortal
+hate. What a waste of feeling, if it must all be flung off together
+with the body, lest it drag the souls of both down to bottomless
+perdition.
+
+"And what do they gain in this world?--irritation, ill-health, and
+misery. It is a fact that no man ever reached a great old age who hated
+his neighbor; still less a _good_ old age; for, if men would look
+honestly into their own hearts, they would own that to hate is to be
+miserable.
+
+"I believe no men commit a sin for many years without some special
+warnings; and to neglect these, is one sin more added to their account.
+Such a warning, or rather, I should say, such a pleading of Divine
+love, those two gentlemen have had. Do you remember, about eight years
+ago, two children were lost on one day, out of different houses in this
+village?" (A murmur from the crowd.)
+
+"Perhaps some of you here present were instrumental, under God, in
+finding that pretty pair." (A louder murmur.)
+
+"Oh, don't be afraid to answer me. Preaching is only a way of speaking;
+and I'm only a woman that is speaking to you for your good. Tell me--we
+are not in church, tied up by stait-laced rules to keep men and women
+from getting within arm's-length of one another's souls--tell me, who
+saw those two lost children?"
+
+"I, I, I, I, I," roared several voices in reply.
+
+"Is it true, as a good woman tells me, that the innocent darlings had
+each an arm round the other's neck?"
+
+"Ay."
+
+"And little coronets of flowers, to match their hair?" (That was the
+girl's doing.)
+
+"Ay."
+
+"And the little boy had played the man, and taken off his tippet to put
+round the little lady?"
+
+"Ay!" with a burst of enthusiasm from the assembled rustics.
+
+"I think I see them myself; and the torches lighting up the dewy leaves
+overhead, and that Divine picture of innocent love. Well, which was the
+prettiest sight, and the fittest for heaven--the hatred of the parents,
+or the affection of the children?
+
+"And now mark what a weapon hatred is, in the Devil's hands. There are
+only two people in this parish on whom that sight was wasted; and those
+two being gentlemen, and men of education, would have been more
+affected by it than humble folk, if Hell had not been in their hearts,
+for Hate comes from Hell, and takes men down to the place it comes
+from.
+
+"Do you, then, shun, in that one thing, the example of your betters:
+and I hope those children will shun it too. A father is to be treated
+with great veneration, but above all is our Heavenly Father and His
+law; and that law, what is it?--what has it been this eighteen hundred
+years and more? Why, Love.
+
+"Would you be happy in this world, and fit your souls to dwell
+hereafter even in the meanest of the many mansions prepared above, you
+_must,_ above all things, be charitable. You must not run your neighbor
+down behind his back, or God will hate you: you must not wound him to
+his face, or God will hate you. You must overlook a fault or two, and
+see a man's bright side, and then God will love you. If you won't do
+that much for your neighbor, why, in Heaven's name, should God overlook
+a multitude of sins in you?
+
+"Nothing goes to heaven surer than Charity, and nothing is so fit to
+sit in heaven. St. Paul had many things to be proud of and to praise in
+himself--things that the world is more apt to admire than Christian
+charity, the sweetest, but humblest of all the Christian graces: St.
+Paul, I say, was a bulwark of learning, an anchor of faith, a rock of
+constancy, a thunder-bolt of zeal: yet see how he bestows the palm.
+
+"'Knowledge puffeth up: but charity edifieth. Though I speak with the
+tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as
+sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of
+prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge; and though I
+have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity,
+I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and
+though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth
+me nothing. Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not;
+charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself
+unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no
+evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth
+all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all
+things. Charity never faileth; but prophecies--they shall fail;
+tongues--they shall cease; knowledge--it shall vanish away. And now
+abideth Faith, Hope, Charity, these three; but the greatest of these is
+charity.'"
+
+The fair orator delivered these words with such fire, such feeling,
+such trumpet tones and heartfelt eloquence, that for the first time
+those immortal words sounded in these village ears true oracles of God.
+
+Then, without pause, she went on. "So let us lift our hearts in earnest
+prayer to God that, in this world of thorns, and tempers, and trials,
+and troubles, and cares, He will give us the best cure for all--the
+great sweetener of this mortal life--the sure forerunner of Heaven--His
+most excellent gift of charity." Then, in one generous burst, she
+prayed for love divine, and there was many a sigh and many a tear, and
+at the close an "Amen!" such as, alas! we shall never, I fear, hear
+burst from a hundred bosoms where men repeat beautiful but stale words
+and call it prayer.
+
+The preacher retired, but the people still lingered spell-bound, and
+then arose that buzz which shows that the words have gone home.
+
+As for Richard Bassett, he had turned on his heel, indignant, as soon
+as the preacher's admonitions came his way.
+
+Sir Charles Bassett stood his ground rather longer, being steeled by
+the conviction that the quarrel was none of his seeking. Moreover, he
+was not aware what a good friend this woman had been to him, nor what a
+good wife she had been to Marsh this seventeen years. His mind,
+therefore, made a clear leap from Rhoda Somerset, the vixen of Hyde
+Park and Mayfair, to this preacher, and he could not help smiling; than
+which a worse frame for receiving unpalatable truths can hardly be
+conceived. And so the elders were obdurate. But Compton and Ruperta had
+no armor of old age, egotism, or prejudice to turn the darts of honest
+eloquence. They listened, as to the voice of an angel; they gazed, as
+on the face of an angel; and when those silvery accents ceased, they
+turned toward each other and came toward each other, with the sweet
+enthusiasm that became their years. "Oh, Cousin Ruperta!" quavered
+Compton. '"Oh, Cousin Compton!" cried Ruperta, the tears trickling down
+her lovely cheeks.
+
+They could not say any more for ever so long.
+
+Ruperta spoke first. She gave a final gulp, and said, "I will go and
+speak to her, and thank her."
+
+"Oh, Miss Ruperta, we shall be too late for tea," suggested the maid.
+
+"Tea!" said Ruperta. "Our souls are before our tea! I must speak to
+her, or else my heart will choke me and kill me. I will go--and so will
+Compton."
+
+"Oh, yes!" said Compton.
+
+And they hurried after the preacher.
+
+They came up with her flushed and panting; and now it was Compton's
+turn to be shy--the lady was so tall and stately too.
+
+But Ruperta was not much afraid of anything in petticoats. "Oh, madam,"
+said she, "if you please, may we speak to you?"
+
+Mrs. Marsh turned round, and her somewhat aquiline features softened
+instantly at the two specimens of beauty and innocence that had run
+after her.
+
+"Certainly, my young friends;" and she smiled maternally on them. She
+had children of her own.
+
+"Who do you think we are? We are the two naughty children you preached
+about so beautifully."
+
+"What! _you_ the babes in the wood?"
+
+"Yes, madam. It was a long, long while ago, and we are fifteen now--are
+we not, Cousin Compton?"
+
+"Yes, madam."
+
+"And we are both so unhappy at our parents' quarreling. At least I am."
+
+"And so am I."
+
+"And we came to thank you. Didn't we, Compton?"
+
+"Yes, Ruperta."
+
+"And to ask your advice. How are we to make our parents be friends? Old
+people will not be advised by young ones. They look down on us so; it
+is dreadful."
+
+"My dear young lady," said Mrs. Marsh, "I will try and answer you: but
+let me sit down a minute; for, after preaching, I am apt to feel a
+little exhausted. Now, sit beside me, and give me each a hand, if you
+please.
+
+"Well, my dears, I have been teaching you a lesson; and now you teach
+me one, and that is, how much easier it is to preach reconciliation and
+charity than it is to practice it under certain circumstances. However,
+my advice to you is first to pray to God for wisdom in this thing, and
+then to watch every opportunity. Dissuade your parents from every
+unkind act: don't be afraid to speak--with the word of God at your
+back. I know that you have no easy task before you. Sir Charles Bassett
+and Mr. Bassett were both among my hearers, and both turned their backs
+on me, and went away unsoftened; they would not give me a chance; would
+not hear me to an end, and I am not a wordy preacher neither."
+
+Here an interruption occurred. Ruperta, so shy and cold with Compton,
+flung her arms round Mrs. Marsh's neck, with the tears in her eyes, and
+kissed her eagerly.
+
+"Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Marsh, after kissing her in turn, "I _was_ a
+little mortified. But that was very weak and foolish. I am sorry, for
+their own sakes, they would not stay; it was the word of God: but they
+saw only the unworthy instrument. Well, then, my dears, you _have_ a
+hard task; but you must work upon your mothers, and win them to
+charity."
+
+"Ah! that will be easy enough. My mother has never approved this
+unhappy quarrel."
+
+"No more has mine."
+
+"Is it so? Then you must try and get the two ladies to speak to each
+other. But something tells me that a way will be opened. Have patience;
+have faith; and do not mind a check or two; but persevere, remembering
+that 'blessed are the peace-makers.'"
+
+She then rose, and they took leave of her.
+
+"Give me a kiss, children," said she. "You have done me a world of
+good. My own heart often flags on the road, and you have warmed and
+comforted it. God bless you!"
+
+And so they parted.
+
+Compton and Ruperta walked homeward. Ruperta was very thoughtful, and
+Compton could only get monosyllables out of her. This discouraged, and
+at last vexed him.
+
+"What have I done," said he, "that you will speak to anybody but me?"
+
+"Don't be cross, child," said she; "but answer me a question. Did you
+put your tippet round me in that wood?"
+
+"I suppose so."
+
+"Oh, then you don't remember doing it, eh?"
+
+"No; that I don't."
+
+"Then what makes you think you did?"
+
+"Because they say so. Because I must have been such an awful cad if I
+didn't. And I was always much fonder of you than you were of me. My
+tippet! I'd give my head sooner than any harm should come to you,
+Ruperta!"
+
+Ruperta made no reply, but, being now at Highmore, she put out her hand
+to him, and turned her head away. He kissed her hand devotedly, and so
+they parted.
+
+Compton told Lady Bassett all that happened, and Ruperta told Mrs.
+Bassett.
+
+Those ladies readily promised to be on the side of peace, but they
+feared it could only be the work of time, and said so.
+
+By-and-by Compton got impatient, and told Ruperta he had thought of a
+way to compel their fathers to be friends. "I am afraid you won't like
+the idea at _first,"_ said he; "but the more you think of it, the more
+you will see it is the surest way of all."
+
+"Well, but what is it?"
+
+"You must let me marry you."
+
+Ruperta stared, and began to blush crimson.
+
+"Will you, cousin?"
+
+"Of course not, child. The idea!"
+
+"Oh, Ruperta," cried the boy in dismay, "surely you don't mean to marry
+anybody else but me!"
+
+"Would that make you very unhappy, then?"
+
+"You know it would, wretched for my life."
+
+"I should not like to do that. But I disapprove of early marriages. I
+mean to wait till I'm nineteen; and that is three years nearly."
+
+"It is a fearful time; but if you will promise not to marry anybody
+else, I suppose I shall live through it."
+
+Ruperta, though she made light of Compton's offer, was very proud of it
+(it was her first). She told her mother directly.
+
+Mrs. Bassett sighed, and said that was too blessed a thing ever to
+happen.
+
+"Why not?" said Ruperta.
+
+"How could it," said Mrs. Bassett, "with everybody against it but poor
+little me!"
+
+"Compton assures me that Lady Bassett wishes it."
+
+"Indeed! But Sir Charles and papa, Ruperta?"
+
+"Oh, Compton must talk Sir Charles over, and I will persuade papa. I'll
+begin this evening, when he comes home from London."
+
+Accordingly, as he was sitting alone in the dining-room sipping his
+glass of port, Ruperta slipped away from her mother's side and found
+him.
+
+His face brightened at the sight of her; for he was extremely fond and
+proud of this girl, for whom he would not have the bells rung when she
+was born.
+
+She came and hung round his neck a little, and kissed him, and said
+softly, "Dear papa, I have something to tell you. I have had a
+proposal."
+
+Richard Bassett stared.
+
+"What, of marriage?"
+
+Ruperta nodded archly.
+
+"To a child like you? Scandalous! No, for, after all, you look nineteen
+or twenty. And who is the highwayman that thinks to rob me of my
+precious girl?"
+
+"Well, papa, whoever he is, he will have to wait three years, and so I
+told him. It is my cousin Compton."
+
+"What!" cried Richard Bassett, so loudly that the girl started back
+dismayed. "That little monkey have the impudence to offer marriage to
+my daughter? Surely, Ruperta, you have offered him no encouragement?"
+
+"N--no."
+
+"Your mother promised me nothing but common civility should pass
+between you and that young gentleman."
+
+"She promised for me, but she could not promise for him--poor little
+fellow!"
+
+"Marry a son of the man who has robbed and insulted your father!"
+
+"Oh, papa! is it so? Are you sure you did not begin?"
+
+"If you can think that, it is useless to say more. I thought
+ill-fortune had done its worst; but no; blow upon blow, and wound upon
+wound. Don't spare me, child. Nobody else has, and why should you?
+Marry my enemy's son, his younger son, and break your father's heart."
+
+At this, what could a sensitive girl of sixteen do but burst out
+crying, and promise, round her father's neck, never to marry any one
+whom he disliked.
+
+When she had made this promise, her father fondled and petted her, and
+his tenderness consoled her, for she was not passionately in love with
+her cousin.
+
+Yet she cried a good deal over the letter in which she communicated
+this to Compton.
+
+He lay in wait for her; but she baffled him for three weeks.
+
+After that she relaxed her vigilance, for she had no real wish to avoid
+him, and was curious to see whether she had cured him.
+
+He met her; and his conduct took her by surprise. He was pale, and
+looked very wretched.
+
+He said solemnly, "Were you jesting with me when you promised to marry
+no one but me?"
+
+"No, Compton. But you know I could never marry you without papa's
+consent."
+
+"Of course not; but, what I fear, he might wish you to marry somebody
+else."
+
+"Then I should refuse. I will never break my word to you, cousin. I am
+not in love with you, you are too young for that--but somehow I feel I
+could not make you unhappy. Can't you trust my word? You might. I come
+of the same people as you. Why do you look so pale?--we are very
+unhappy."
+
+Then the tears began to steal down her cheeks; and Compton's soon
+followed.
+
+Compton consulted his mother. She told him, with a sigh, she was
+powerless. Sir Charles might yield to her, but she had no power to
+influence Mr. Bassett at present. "The time may come," said she. She
+could not take a very serious view of this amour, except with regard to
+its pacific results. So Mr. Bassett's opposition chilled her in the
+matter.
+
+While things were so, something occurred that drove all these minor
+things out of her distracted heart.
+
+One summer evening, as she and Sir Charles and Compton sat at dinner, a
+servant came in to say there was a stranger at the door, and he called
+himself Bassett.
+
+"What is he like?" said Lady Bassett, turning pale.
+
+"He looks like a foreigner, my lady. He says he is Mr. Bassett,"
+repeated the man, with a scandalized air.
+
+Sir Charles got up directly, and hurried to the hall door. Compton
+followed to the door only and looked.
+
+Sure enough it was Reginald, full-grown, and bold, as handsome as ever,
+and darker than ever.
+
+In that moment his misconduct in running away never occurred either to
+Sir Charles or Compton; all was eager and tremulous welcome. The hall
+rang with joy. They almost carried him into the dining-room.
+
+The first thing they saw was a train of violet-colored velvet, half
+hidden by the table.
+
+Compton ran forward with a cry of dismay.
+
+It was Lady Bassett, in a dead swoon, her face as white as her neck and
+arms, and these as white and smooth as satin.
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+LADY BASSETT was carried to her room, and did not reappear. She kept
+her own apartments, and her health declined so rapidly that Sir Charles
+sent for Dr. Willis. He prescribed for the body, but the disease lay in
+the mind. Martyr to an inward struggle, she pined visibly, and her
+beautiful eyes began to shine like stars, preternaturally large. She
+was in a frightful condition: she longed to tell the truth and end it
+all; but then she must lose her adored husband's respect, and perhaps
+his love; and she had not the courage. She saw no way out of it but to
+die and leave her confession; and, as she felt that the agony of her
+soul was killing her by degrees, she drew a somber resignation from
+that.
+
+She declined to see Reginald. She could not bear the sight of him.
+
+Compton came to her many times a day, with a face full of concern, and
+even terror. But she would not talk to him of herself.
+
+He brought her all the news he heard, having no other way to cheer her.
+
+One day he told her there were robbers about. Two farmhouses had been
+robbed, a thing not known in these parts for many years.
+
+Lady Bassett shuddered, but said nothing.
+
+But by-and-by her beloved son came to her in distress with a grief of
+his own.
+
+Ruperta Bassett was now the beauty of the county, and it seems Mr.
+Rutland had danced with her at her first ball, and been violently
+smitten with her; he had called more than once at Highmore, and his
+attentions were directly encouraged by Mr. Bassett. Now Mr. Rutland was
+heir to a peerage, and also to considerable estates in the county.
+
+Compton was sick at heart, and, being young, saw his life about to be
+blighted; so now he was pale and woe-begone, and told her the sad news
+with such deep sighs, and imploring, tearful eyes, that all the mother
+rose in arms. "Ah!" said she, "they say to themselves that I am down,
+and cannot fight for my child; but I would fight for him on the edge of
+the grave. Let me think all by myself, dear. Come back to me in an
+hour. I shall do something. Your mother is a very cunning woman--for
+those she loves."
+
+Compton kissed her gown--a favorite action of his, for he worshiped
+her--and went away.
+
+The invalid laid her hollow cheek upon her wasted hand, and thought
+with all her might. By degrees her extraordinary brain developed a
+twofold plan of action; and she proceeded to execute the first part,
+being the least difficult, though even that was not easy, and brought a
+vivid blush to her wasted cheek.
+
+She wrote to Mrs. Bassett.
+
+
+
+"MADAM--I am very ill, and life is uncertain. Something tells me you,
+like me, regret the unhappy feud between our houses. If this is so, it
+would be a consolation to me to take you by the hand and exchange a few
+words, as we already have a few kind looks.
+
+"Yours respectfully,
+
+"BELLA BASSETT."
+
+
+
+She showed this letter to Compton, and told him he might send a servant
+with it to Highmore at once.
+
+"Oh, mamma!" said he, "I never thought you would do that: how good you
+are! You couldn't ask Ruperta, could you? Just in a little postscript,
+you know."
+
+Lady Bassett shook her head.
+
+"That would not be wise, my dear. Let me hook that fish for you, not
+frighten her away."
+
+Great was the astonishment at Highmore when a blazing footman knocked
+at the door and handed Jessie the letter with assumed nonchalance, then
+stalked away, concealing with professional art his own astonishment at
+what he had done.
+
+It was no business of Jessie's to take letters into the drawing-room;
+she would have deposited any other letter on the hall table; but she
+brought this one in, and, standing at the door, exclaimed, "Here a
+letter fr' Huntercombe!"
+
+Richard Bassett, Mrs. Bassett, and Ruperta, all turned upon her with
+one accord.
+
+"From where?"
+
+"Fr' Huntercombe itsel'. Et isna for you, nor for you, missy. Et's for
+the mesterress."
+
+She marched proudly up to Mrs. Bassett and laid the letter down on the
+table; then drew back a step or two, and, being Scotch, coolly waited
+to hear the contents. Richard Basset, being English, told her she need
+not stay.
+
+Mrs. Bassett cast a bewildered look at her husband and daughter, then
+opened the letter quietly; read it quietly; and, having read it, took
+out her handkerchief and began to cry quietly.
+
+Ruperta cried, "Oh, mamma!" and in a moment had one long arm round her
+mother's neck, while the other hand seized the letter, and she read it
+aloud, cheek to cheek; but, before she got to an end, her mother's
+tears infected her, and she must whimper too.
+
+"Here are a couple of geese," said Richard Bassett. "Can't you write a
+civil reply to a civil letter without sniveling? I'll answer the letter
+for you."
+
+"No!" said Mrs. Bassett.
+
+Richard was amazed: Ruperta ditto.
+
+The little woman had never dealt in "Noes," least of all to her
+husband; and besides this was such a plump "No." It came out of her
+mouth like a marble.
+
+I think the sound surprised even herself a little, for she proceeded to
+justify it at once. "I have been a better wife than a Christian this
+many years. But there's a limit. And, Richard, I should never have
+married you if you had told me we were to be at war all our lives with
+our next neighbor, that everybody respects. To live in the country, and
+not speak to our only neighbor, that is a life I never would have left
+my father's house for. Not that I complain: if you have been bitter to
+them, you have always been good and kind to me; and I hope I have done
+my best to deserve it; but when a sick lady, and perhaps dying, holds
+out her hand to me---write her one of your cold-blooded letters! That I
+WON'T. Reply? my reply will be just putting on my bonnet and going to
+her this afternoon. It is Passion-week, too; and that's not a week to
+play the heathen. Poor lady! I've seen in her sweet eyes this many
+years that she would gladly be friends with me; and she never passed me
+close but she bowed to me, in church or out, even when we were at
+daggers drawn. She is a lady, a real lady, every inch. But it is not
+that altogether. No, if a sick woman called me to her bedside this
+week, I'd go, whether she wrote from Huntercombe Hall or the poorest
+house in the place; else how could I hope my Saviour would come to _my_
+bedside at my last hour?"
+
+This honest burst, from a meek lady who never talked nonsense, to be
+sure, but seldom went into eloquence, staggered Richard Bassett, and
+enraptured Ruperta so, that she flung both arms round her mother's
+neck, and cried, "Oh, mamma! I always thought you were the best woman
+in England, and now I know it."
+
+"Well, well, well," said Richard, kindly enough; then to Ruperta, "Did
+I ever say she was not the best woman in England? So you need not set
+up your throats neck and neck at me, like two geese at a fox.
+Unfortunately, she is the simplest woman in England, as well as the
+best, and she is going to visit the cunningest. That Lady Bassett will
+turn our mother inside out in no time. I wish you would go with her;
+you are a shrewd girl."
+
+"My daughter will not go till she is asked," said Mrs. Bassett, firmly.
+
+"In that case," said Richard, dryly, "let us hope the Lord will protect
+you, since it is for love of Him you go into a she-fox's den."
+
+No reply was vouchsafed to this aspiration, the words being the words
+of faith, but the voice the voice of skepticism.
+
+Mrs. Bassett put on her bonnet, and went to Huntercombe Hall.
+
+After a very short delay she was ushered upstairs, to the room where
+Lady Bassett was lying on a sofa.
+
+Lady Bassett heard her coming, and rose to receive her.
+
+She made Mrs. Bassett a court courtesy so graceful and profound that it
+rather frightened the little woman. Seeing which, Lady Bassett changed
+her style, and came forward, extending both hands with admirable grace,
+and gentle amity, not overdone.
+
+Mrs. Bassett gave her both hands, and they looked full at each other in
+silence, till the eyes of both ladies began to fill.
+
+"You would have come--like this--years ago--at a word?" faltered Lady
+Bassett.
+
+"Yes," gulped Mrs. Bassett.
+
+Then there was another long pause.
+
+"Oh, Lady Bassett, what a life! It is a wonder it has not killed us
+both."
+
+"It will kill one of us."
+
+"Not if I can help it."
+
+"God bless you for saying so! Dear madam, sit by me, and let me hold
+the hand I might have had years ago, if I had had the courage."
+
+"Why should you take the blame?" said Mrs. Bassett. "We have both been
+good wives: too obedient, perhaps. But to have to choose between a
+husband's commands and God's law, that is a terrible thing for any poor
+woman."
+
+"It is, indeed."
+
+Then there was another silence, and an awkward pause. Mrs. Bassett
+broke it, with some hesitation. "I hope, Lady Bassett, your present
+illness is not in any way--I hope you do not fear anything more from my
+husband?"
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Bassett! how can I help fearing it--especially if we provoke
+him? Mr. Reginald Bassett has returned, and you know he once gave your
+husband cause for just resentment."
+
+"Well, but he is older now, and has more sense. Even if he should,
+Ruperta and I must try and keep the peace."
+
+"Ruperta! I wish I had asked you to bring her with you. But I feared to
+ask too much at once."
+
+"I'll send her to you to-morrow, Lady Bassett."
+
+"No, bring her."
+
+"Then tell me your hour."
+
+"Yes, and I will send somebody out of the way. I want you both to
+myself."
+
+
+
+While this conversation was going on at Huntercombe, Richard Bassett,
+being left alone with his daughter, proceeded to work with his usual
+skill upon her young mind.
+
+He reminded her of Mr. Rutland's prospects, and said he hoped to see
+her a countess, and the loveliest jewel of the Peerage.
+
+He then told her Mr. Rutland was coming to stay a day or two next week,
+and requested her to receive him graciously.
+
+She promised that at once.
+
+"That," said he, "will be a much better match for you than the younger
+son of Sir Charles Bassett. However, my girl is too proud to go into a
+family where she is not welcome."
+
+"Much too proud for that," said Ruperta.
+
+He left her smarting under that suggestion.
+
+While he was smoking his cigar in the garden, Mrs. Bassett came home.
+She was in raptures with Lady Bassett, and told her daughter all that
+had passed; and, in conclusion, that she had promised Lady Bassett to
+take her to Huntercombe to-morrow.
+
+"Me, dear!" cried Ruperta; "why, what can she want of me?"
+
+"All I know is, her ladyship wishes very much to see you. In my
+opinion, you will be _very_ welcome to poor Lady Bassett."
+
+"Is she very ill?"
+
+Mrs. Bassett shook her head. "She is much changed. She says she should
+be better if we were all at peace; but I don't know."
+
+"Oh, mamma, I wish it was to-morrow."
+
+They went to Huntercombe next day; and, ill as she was, Lady Bassett
+received them charmingly. She was startled by Ruperta's beauty and
+womanly appearance, but too well bred to show it, or say it all in a
+moment. She spoke to the mother first; but presently took occasion to
+turn to the daughter, and to say, "May I hope, Miss Bassett, that you
+are on the side of peace, like your dear mother and myself?"
+
+"I am," said Ruperta, firmly; "I always was--especially after that
+beautiful sermon, you know, mamma."
+
+Says the proud mother, "You might tell Lady Bassett you think it is
+your mission to reunite your father and Sir Charles."
+
+"Mamma!" said Ruperta, reproachfully. That was to stop her mouth. "If
+you tell all the wild things I say to you, her ladyship will think me
+very presumptuous."
+
+"No, no," said Lady Bassett, "enthusiasm is not presumption. Enthusiasm
+is beautiful, and the brightest flower of youth."
+
+"I am glad you think so, Lady Bassett; for people who have no
+enthusiasm seem very hard and mean to me."
+
+"And so they are," said Lady Bassett warmly.
+
+But I have no time to record the full details of the conversation. I
+can only present the general result. Lady Bassett thought Ruperta a
+beautiful and noble girl, that any house might be proud to adopt; and
+Ruperta was charmed by Lady Bassett's exquisite manners, and touched
+and interested by her pale yet still beautiful face and eyes. They made
+friends; but it was not till the third visit, when many kind things had
+passed between them, that Lady Bassett ventured on the subject she had
+at heart. "My dear," said she to Ruperta, "when I first saw you, I
+wondered at my son Compton's audacity in loving a young lady so much
+more advanced than himself; but now I must be frank with you; I think
+the poor boy's audacity was only a proper courage. He has all my
+sympathy, and, if he is not quite indifferent to you, let me just put
+in my word, and say there is not a young lady in the world I could bear
+for my daughter-in-law, now I have seen and talked with you, my dear."
+
+"Thank you, Lady Bassett," said Mrs. Bassett; "and, since you have said
+so much, let me speak my mind. So long as your son is attached to my
+daughter, I could never welcome any other son-in-law. I HAVE GOT THE
+TIPPET."
+
+Lady Bassett looked at Ruperta, for an explanation. Ruperta only
+blushed, and looked uncomfortable. She hated all allusion to the feats
+of her childhood.
+
+Mrs. Bassett saw Lady Bassett's look of perplexity, and said, eagerly,
+"You never missed it? All the better. I thought I would keep it, for a
+peacemaker partly."
+
+"My dear friend," said Lady Bassett, "you are speaking riddles to me;
+what tippet?"
+
+"The tippet your son took off his own shoulders, and put it round my
+girl, that terrible night they were lost in the wood. Forgive me
+keeping it, Lady Bassett--I know I was little better than a thief; but
+it was only a tippet to you, and to me it was much more. Ah! Lady
+Bassett, I have loved your darling boy ever since; you can't wonder,
+you are a mother;" and, turning suddenly on Ruperta, "why do you keep
+saying he is only a boy? If he was man enough to do that at seven years
+of age, he must have a manly heart. No; I couldn't bear the sight of
+any other son-in-law; and when you are a mother you'll understand many
+things, and, for one, you'll--under--stand--why I'm so--fool--ish;
+seeing the sweet boy's mother ready--to cry--too--oh! oh! oh!"
+
+Lady Bassett held out her arms to her, and the mothers had a sweet cry
+together in each other's arms.
+
+Ruperta's eyes were wet at this; but she told her mother she ought not
+to agitate Lady Bassett, and she so ill.
+
+"And that is true, my good, sensible girl," said Mrs. Bassett; "but it
+has lain in my heart these nine years, and I could not keep it to
+myself any longer. But you are a beauty and a spoiled child, and so I
+suppose you think nothing of his giving you his tippet to keep you
+warm."
+
+"Don't say that, mamma," said Ruperta, reproachfully. "I spoke to dear
+Compton about it not long ago. He had forgotten all about it, even."
+
+"All the more to his credit; but don't you ever forget it, my own
+girl."
+
+"I never will, mamma."
+
+By degrees the three became so unreserved that Ruperta was gently urged
+to declare her real sentiments.
+
+By this time the young beauty was quite cured of her fear lest she
+should be an unwelcome daughter-in-law; but there was an obstacle in
+her own mind. She was a frank, courageous girl; but this appeal tried
+her hard.
+
+She blushed, fixed her eyes steadily on the ground, and said, pretty
+firmly and very slowly, "I had always a great affection for my cousin
+Compton; and so I have now. But I am not in love with him. He is but a
+boy; now I--"
+
+A glance at the large mirror, and a superb smile of beauty and
+conscious womanhood, completed the sentence.
+
+"He will get older every day," said Mrs. Bassett.
+
+"And so shall I."
+
+"But you will not look older, and he will. You have come to your full
+growth. He hasn't."
+
+"I agree with the dear girl," said Lady Bassett, adroitly. "Compton,
+with his fair hair, looks so young, it would be ridiculous at present.
+But it is possible to be engaged, and wait a proper time for marriage;
+what I fear is, lest you should be tempted by some other offer. To
+speak plainly, I hear that Mr. Rutland pays his addresses to you, and
+visits at Highmore."
+
+"Yes, he has been there twice."
+
+"He is welcome to your father; and his prospects are dazzling; and he
+is not a boy, for he has long mustaches."
+
+"I am not dazzled by his mustaches, and still less by his prospects,"
+said the fair young beauty.
+
+"You are an extraordinary girl."
+
+"That she is," said Mrs. Bassett. "Her father has no more power over
+her than I have."
+
+"Oh, mamma! am I a disobedient girl, then?"
+
+"No, no. Only in this one thing, I see you will go your own way."
+
+Lady Bassett put in her word. "Well, but this one thing is the
+happiness or misery of her whole life. I cannot blame her for looking
+well before she leaps."
+
+A grateful look from Ruperta's glorious eyes repaid the speaker.
+
+"But," said Lady Bassett, tenderly, "it is something to have two
+mothers when you marry, instead of one; and you would have two, my
+love; I would try and live for you."
+
+This touched Ruperta to the heart; she curled round Lady Bassett's
+neck, and they kissed each other like mother and daughter.
+
+"This is too great a temptation," said Ruperta. "Yes; I _will_ engage
+myself to Cousin Compton, if papa's consent can be obtained. Without
+his consent I could not marry any one."
+
+"Nobody can obtain it, if you cannot," said Mrs. Bassett.
+
+Ruperta shook her head. "Mark my words, mamma, it will take me years to
+gain it. Papa is as obstinate as a mule. To be sure, I am as obstinate
+as fifty."
+
+"It shall not take years, nor yet months," said Lady Bassett. "I know
+_Mr. Bassett's_ objection, and I will remove it, cost me what it may."
+
+This speech surprised the other two ladies so, they made no reply.
+
+Said Lady Bassett firmly, "Do you pledge yourself to me, if I can
+obtain Mr. Bassett's consent?"
+
+"I do," said Ruperta. "But--"
+
+"You think my power with your father must be smaller than yours. I hope
+to show you you are mistaken."
+
+The ladies rose to go: Lady Bassett took leave of them thus: "Good-by,
+my most valued friend, and sister in sorrow; good-by, my dear
+daughter."
+
+
+
+At the gate of Huntercombe, whom should they meet but Compton Bassett,
+looking very pale and unhappy.
+
+He was upon honor not to speak to Ruperta; but he gazed on her with a
+wistful and terrified look that was very touching. She gave him a soft
+pitying smile in return, that drove him almost wild with hope.
+
+That night Richard Bassett sat in his chair, gloomy.
+
+When his wife and daughter spoke to him in their soft accents, he
+returned short, surly answers. Evidently a storm was brewing.
+
+At last it burst. He had heard of Ruperta's repeated visits to
+Huntercombe Hall. "You are not dealing fairly with me, you two," said
+he. "I allowed you to go once to see a woman that says she is very ill;
+but I warned you she was the cunningest woman in creation, and would
+make a fool of you both; and now I find you are always going. This will
+not do. She is netting two simple birds that I have the care of. Now,
+listen to me; I forbid you two ever to set foot in that house again. Do
+you hear me?"
+
+"We hear you, papa," said Mrs. Bassett, quietly; "we must be deaf, if
+we did not."
+
+Ruperta kept her countenance with difficulty.
+
+"It is not a request, it is a command."
+
+Mrs. Bassett for once in her life fired up. "And a most tyrannical
+one," said she.
+
+Ruperta put her hand before her mother's mouth, then turned to her
+father.
+
+"There was no need to express your wish so harshly, papa. We shall
+obey."
+
+Then she whispered her mother, "And Mr. Rutland shall pay for it."
+
+Mrs. Bassett communicated this behest to Lady Bassett in a letter.
+
+Then Lady Bassett summoned all her courage, and sent for her son
+Compton. "Compton," said she, "I must speak to Reginald. Can you find
+him?"
+
+"Oh yes, I can find him. I am sorry to say anybody can find him at this
+time of day."
+
+"Why, where is he?"
+
+"I hardly like to tell you."
+
+"Do you think his peculiarities have escaped me?"
+
+"At the public-house."
+
+"Ask him to come to me."
+
+
+
+Compton went to the public-house, and there, to his no small disgust,
+found Mr. Reginald Bassett playing the fiddle, and four people, men and
+women, dancing to the sound, while one or two more smoked and looked
+on.
+
+Compton restrained himself till the end of that dance, and then stepped
+up to Reginald and whispered him, "Mamma wants to see you directly."
+
+"Tell her I'm busy."
+
+"I shall tell her nothing of the kind. You know she is very ill, and
+has not seen you yet; and now she wants to. So come along at once, like
+a good fellow."
+
+"Youngster," said Reginald, "it is a rule with me never to leave a
+young woman for an old one."
+
+"Not for your mother?"
+
+"No, nor my grandmother either."
+
+"Then you were born without a heart. But you shall come, whether you
+like it or not--though I have to drag you there by the throat."
+
+"Learn to spell 'able' first."
+
+"I'll spell it on your head, if you don't come."
+
+"Oh, that is the game, young un, is it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, don't let us have a shindy on the bricks; there is a nice little
+paddock outside. Come out there and I'll give you a lesson."
+
+"Thank you; I don't feel inclined to assist you in degrading our
+family."
+
+"Chaps that are afraid to fight shouldn't threaten. Come now, the first
+knock-down blow shall settle it. If I win, you stay here and dance with
+us. If you win, I go to the old woman."
+
+Compton consented, somewhat reluctantly; but to do him justice, his
+reluctance arose entirely from his sense of relationship, and not from
+any fear of his senior.
+
+The young gentlemen took off their coats, and proceeded to spar without
+any further ceremony.
+
+Reginald, whose agility was greater than his courage, danced about on
+the tips of his toes, and succeeded in planting a tap or two on
+Compton's cheek.
+
+Compton smarted under these, and presently, in following his
+antagonist, who fought like a shadow, he saw Ruperta and her mother
+looking horror-stricken over the palings.
+
+Infuriated with Reginald for this exposure, he rushed in at him,
+received a severe cut over the eye, but dealt him with his mighty
+Anglo-Saxon arm a full straightforward smasher on the forehead, which
+knocked him head over heels like a nine-pin.
+
+That active young man picked himself up wondrous slowly; rheumatism
+seemed to have suddenly seized his well-oiled joints; he then addressed
+his antagonist, in his most ingratiating tones--"All right, sir," said
+he. "You are the best man. I'll go to the old lady this minute."
+
+"I'll see you go," said Compton, sternly; "and mind I can run as well
+as hit: so none of your gypsy tricks with me."
+
+Then he came sheepishly to the palings and said, "It is not my fault,
+Miss Bassett; he would not come to mamma without, and she wants to
+speak to him."
+
+"Oh! he is hurt! he is wounded!" cried Ruperta. "Come here to me."
+
+He came to her, and she pressed her white handkerchief tenderly on his
+eyebrow; it was bleeding a little.
+
+"Well, are you coming?" said Reginald, ironically, "or do _you_ like
+young women better than old ones?"
+
+Compton instantly drew back a little, made two steps, laid his hand on
+the palings, vaulted over, and followed Reginald.
+
+"That's your _boy,"_ said Mrs. Bassett.
+
+Ruperta made no reply, but began to gulp.
+
+"What is the matter, darling?"
+
+"The fighting--the blood"--said Ruperta, sobbing.
+
+Mrs. Bassett drew her on one side, and soon soothed her.
+
+When their gentle bosoms got over their agitation, they rather enjoyed
+the thing, especially Ruperta: she detested Reginald for his character,
+and for having insulted her father.
+
+All of a sudden, she cried out, "He has taken my handkerchief. How dare
+he?" And she affected anger.
+
+"Never mind, dear," said Mrs. Bassett, coolly, "we have got his
+tippet."
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+COULD any one have looked through the keyhole at Lady Bassett waiting
+for Reginald, he would have seen, by the very movements of her body,
+the terrible agitation of the mind. She rose--she sat down--she walked
+about with wild energy--she dropped on the sofa, and appeared to give
+it up as impossible; but ere long that deadly languor gave way to
+impatient restlessness again.
+
+At last her quick ear heard a footstep in the corridor, accompanied by
+no rustle of petticoats, and yet the footstep was not Compton's.
+
+Instantly she glanced with momentary terror toward the door.
+
+There was a tap.
+
+She sat down, and said, with a tone from which all agitation was
+instantly banished, "Come in."
+
+The door opened, and the swarthy Reginald, diabolically handsome, with
+his black snaky curls, entered the room.
+
+She rose from her chair, and fixed her great eyes on him, as if she
+would read him soul and body before she ventured to speak.
+
+"Here I am, mamma: sorry to see you look so ill."
+
+"Thank you, my dear," said Lady Bassett, without relaxing for a moment
+that searching gaze.
+
+She said, still covering him with her eye, "Would you cure me if you
+could?"
+
+To appreciate this opening, and Lady Bassett's sweet engaging manner,
+you must understand that this young man was, in her eyes, a sort of
+black snake. Her flesh crept, with fear and repugnance, at the sight of
+him. Yet that is how she received him, being a mother defending her
+favorite son.
+
+"Of course I would," said Reginald. "Just you tell me how."
+
+Excellent words. But the lady's calm infallible eye saw a cunning
+twinkle in those black twinkling orbs. Young as he was, he was on his
+guard, and waiting for her. Nor was this surprising: Reginald,
+naturally intelligent, had accumulated a large stock of low cunning in
+his travels and adventures with the gypsies, a smooth and cunning
+people. Lady Bassett's fainting upon his return, his exclusion from her
+room, and one or two minor circumstances, had set him thinking.
+
+The moment she saw that look, Lady Bassett, with swift tact, glided
+away from the line she had intended to open, and, after merely thanking
+him, and saying, "I believe you, dear," though she did not believe him,
+she resumed, in a very impressive tone, "You see me worse than ever
+to-day, because my mind is in great trouble. The time is come when I
+must tell you a secret, which will cause you a bitter disappointment.
+Why I send for you is, to see whether I cannot do something for you to
+make you happy, in spite of that cruel disappointment."
+
+Not a word from Reginald.
+
+"Mr. Bassett--forgive me, if you can--for I am the most miserable woman
+in England--you are not the heir to this place; you are not Sir Charles
+Bassett's son."
+
+"What!" shouted the young man.
+
+Her fortitude gave way for a moment. She shook her head, in
+confirmation of what she had said, and hid her burning face and
+scalding tears in her white and wasted hands.
+
+There was a long silence.
+
+Reginald was asking himself if this could be true, or was it a maneuver
+to put her favorite Compton over his head.
+
+Lady Bassett looked up, and saw this paltry suspicion in his face. She
+dried her tears directly, and went to a bureau, unlocked it, and
+produced the manuscript confession she had prepared for her husband.
+
+She bade Reginald observe the superscription and the date.
+
+When he had done so, she took her scissors and opened it for him.
+
+"Read what I wrote to my beloved husband at a time when I expected soon
+to appear before my Judge."
+
+She then sank upon the sofa, and lay there like a log; only, from time
+to time, during the long reading, tears trickled from her eyes.
+
+Reginald read the whole story, and saw the facts must be true: more
+than that, being young, and a man, he could not entirely resist the
+charm of a narrative in which a lady told at full the love, the grief,
+the terror, the sufferings, of her heart, and the terrible temptation
+under which she had gone astray.
+
+He laid it down at last, and drew a long breath.
+
+"It's a devil of a job for _me,"_ said he; "but I can't blame you. You
+sold that Dick Bassett, and I hate him. But what is to become of _me?"_
+
+"What I offer you is a life in which you will be happier than you ever
+could be at Huntercombe. I mean to buy you vast pasture-fields in
+Australia, and cattle to feed. Those noble pastures will be bounded
+only by wild forests and hills. You will have swift horses to ride over
+your own domain, or to gallop hundreds of miles at a stretch, if you
+like. No confinement there; no fences and boundaries; all as free as
+air. No monotony: one week you can dig for gold, another you can ride
+among your flocks, another you can hunt. All this in a climate so
+delightful that you can lie all night in the open air, without a
+blanket, under a new firmament of stars, not one of which illumines the
+dull nights of Europe."
+
+The bait was too tempting. "Well, you _are_ the right sort," cried
+Reginald.
+
+But presently he began to doubt. "But all that will cost a lot of
+money."
+
+"It will, but I have a great deal of money."
+
+Reginald thought, and said, suspiciously, "I don't know why you should
+do all this for me."
+
+"Do you not? What! when I have brought you into this family, and
+encouraged you in such vast expectations, could I, in honor and common
+humanity, let you fall into poverty and neglect? No. I have many
+thousand pounds, all my own, and you will have them all, and perhaps
+waste them all; but it will take you some time, because, while you are
+wasting, I shall be saving more for you."
+
+Then there was a pause, each waiting for the other.
+
+Then Lady Bassett said, quietly, and with great apparent composure, "Of
+course there is a condition attached to all this."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"I must receive from you a written paper, signed by yourself and by
+Mrs. Meyrick, acknowledging that you are not Sir Charles's son, but
+distinctly pledging yourself to keep the secret so long as I continue
+to furnish you with the means of living. You hesitate. Is it not fair?"
+
+"Well, it looks fair; but it is an awkward thing, signing a paper of
+that sort."
+
+"You doubt me, sir; you think that, because I have told one great
+falsehood, from good but erring motives, I may break faith with you. Do
+not insult me with these doubts, sir. Try and understand that there are
+ladies and gentlemen in the world, though you prefer gypsies. Have you
+forgotten that night when you laid me under so deep a debt, and I told
+you I never would forget it? From that day was I not always your
+friend? was I not always the one to make excuses for you?"
+
+Reginald assented to that.
+
+"Then trust me. I pledge you my honor that I am this day the best
+friend you ever had, or ever can have. Refuse to sign that paper, and I
+shall soon be in my grave, leaving behind me my confession, and other
+evidence, on which you will be dismissed from this house with ignominy,
+and without a farthing; for your best friend will be dead, and you will
+have killed her."
+
+He looked at her full: he said, with a shade of compunction, "I am not
+a gentleman, but you are a lady. I'll trust you. I'll sign anything you
+like."
+
+"That confidence becomes you," said Lady Bassett; "and now I have no
+objection to show you I deserve it. Here is a letter to Mr. Rolfe, by
+which you may learn I have already placed three thousand pounds to his
+account, to be laid out by him for your benefit in Australia, where he
+has many confidential friends; and this is a check for five hundred
+pounds I drew in your favor yesterday. Do me the favor to take it."
+
+He did her that favor with sparkling eyes.
+
+"Now here is the paper I wish you to sign; but your signature will be
+of little value to me without Mary Meyrick's."
+
+"Oh, she will sign it directly: I have only to tell her."
+
+"Are you sure? Men can be brought to take a dispassionate view of their
+own interest, but women are not so wise. Take it, and try her. If she
+refuses, bring her to me _directly._ Do you understand? Otherwise, in
+one fatal hour, her tongue will ruin _you,_ and destroy me."
+
+Impressed with these words, Reginald hurried to Mrs. Meyrick, and told
+her, in an off-hand way, she must sign that paper directly.
+
+She looked at it and turned very white, but went on her guard directly.
+
+"Sign such a wicked lie as that!" said she. "That I never will. You
+_are_ his son, and Huntercombe shall be yours. She is an unnatural
+mother."
+
+"Gammon!" said Reginald. "You might as well say a fox is the son of a
+gander. Come now; I am not going to let you cut my throat with your
+tongue. Sign at once, or else come to her this moment and tell her so."
+
+"That I will," said Mary Meyrick, "and give her my mind."
+
+
+
+This doughty resolution was a little shaken when she cast eyes upon
+Lady Bassett, and saw how wan and worn she looked.
+
+She moderated her violence, and said, sullenly, "Sorry to gainsay
+_you,_ my lady, and you so ill, but this is a paper I never can sign.
+It would rob him of Huntercombe. I'd sooner cut my hand off at the
+wrist."
+
+"Nonsense, Mary!" said Lady Bassett, contemptuously.
+
+She then proceeded to reason with her, but it was no use. Mary would
+not listen to reason, and defied her at last in a loud voice.
+
+"Very well," said Lady Bassett. "Then since you will not do it my way,
+it shall be done another way. I shall put my confession in Sir
+Charles's hands, and insist on his dismissing him from the house, and
+you from your farm. It will kill me, and the money I intended for
+Reginald I shall leave to Compton."
+
+"These are idle words, my lady. You daren't."
+
+"I dare anything when once I make up my mind to die."
+
+She rang the bell.
+
+Mary Meyrick affected contempt.
+
+A servant came to the door.
+
+"Request Sir Charles to come to me immediately."
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+"DON'T you be a fool," said Reginald to his nurse.
+
+"Sir Charles will send you to prison for it," said Lady Bassett.
+
+"For what I done along with you?"
+
+"Oh, he will not punish his wife; he will look out for some other
+victim."
+
+"Sign, you d--d old fool!" cried Reginald, seizing Mary Meyrick roughly
+by the arm.
+
+Strange to say, Lady Bassett interfered, with a sort of majestic
+horror. She held up her hand, and said, "Do not dare to lay a finger on
+her!"
+
+Then Mary burst into tears, and said she would sign the paper.
+
+While she was signing it, Sir Charles's step was heard in the corridor.
+
+He knocked at the door just as she signed. Reginald had signed already.
+
+Lady Bassett put the paper into the manuscript book, and the book into
+the bureau, and said "Come in," with an appearance of composure belied
+by her beating heart.
+
+"Here is Mrs. Meyrick, my dear."
+
+In those few seconds so perfect a liar as Mary Meyrick had quite
+recovered herself.
+
+"If you please, sir," said she, "I be come to ast if you will give us a
+new lease, for ourn it is run out."
+
+"You had better talk to the steward about that."
+
+"Very well, sir," and she made her courtesy.
+
+Reginald remained, not knowing exactly what to do.
+
+"My dear," said Lady Bassett, "Reginald has come to bid us good-by. He
+is going to visit Mr. Rolfe, and take his advice, if you have no
+objection."
+
+"None whatever; and I hope he will treat it with more respect than he
+does mine."
+
+Reginald shrugged his shoulders, and was going out, when Lady Bassett
+said, "Won't you kiss me, Reginald, as you are going away?"
+
+He came to her: she kissed him, and whispered in his ear, "Be true to
+me, as I will be to you."
+
+Then he left her, and she felt like a dead thing, with exhaustion. She
+lay on the sofa, and Sir Charles sat beside her, and made her drink a
+glass of wine.
+
+She lay very still that afternoon; but at night she slept: a load was
+off her mind for the present.
+
+Next day she was so much better she came down to dinner.
+
+What she now hoped was, that entire separation, coupled with the memory
+of the boy's misdeeds, would cure Sir Charles entirely of his affection
+for Reginald; and so that, after about twenty years more of conjugal
+fidelity, she might find courage to reveal to her husband the fault of
+her youth at a time when all its good results remained to help excuse
+it, and all its bad results had vanished.
+
+Such was the plan this extraordinary woman conceived, and its success
+so far had a wonderful effect on her health.
+
+But a couple of days passed, and she did not hear either from Reginald
+or Mr. Rolfe. That made her a little anxious.
+
+On the third day Compton asked her, with an angry flush on his brow,
+whether she had not sent Reginald up to London.
+
+"Yes, dear," said Lady Bassett.
+
+"Well, he is not gone, then."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"He is living at his nurse's. I saw him talking to an old gypsy that
+lives on the farm."
+
+Lady Bassett groaned, but said nothing.
+
+"Never mind, mamma," said Compton. "Your other children must love you
+all the more."
+
+This news caused Lady Bassett both anxiety and terror. She divined bad
+faith and all manner of treachery, none the less terrible for being
+vague.
+
+Down went her health again and her short-lived repose.
+
+Meantime Reginald, in reality, was staying at the farm on a little
+business of his own.
+
+He had concerted an expedition with the foreign gent, and was waiting
+for a dark and gusty night.
+
+He had undertaken this expedition with mixed motives, spite and greed,
+especially the latter. He would never have undertaken it with a 500
+pound check in his pocket; but some minds are so constituted they
+cannot forego a bad design once formed: so Mr. Reginald persisted,
+though one great motive existed no longer.
+
+On this expedition it is now our lot to accompany him.
+
+The night was favorable, and at about two o'clock Reginald and the
+foreign gent stood under Richard Bassett's dining-room window, with
+crape over their eyes, noses and mouths, and all manner of unlawful
+implements in their pockets.
+
+The foreign gent prized the shutters open with a little crowbar; he
+then, with a glazier's diamond, soon cut out a small pane, inserted a
+cunning hand and opened the window.
+
+Then Reginald gave him a leg, and he got into the room.
+
+The agile youth followed him without assistance.
+
+They lighted a sort of bull's-eye, and poured the concentrated light on
+the cupboard door, behind which lay the treasure of glorious old plate.
+
+Then the foreign gent produced his skeleton keys, and after several
+ineffective trials, opened the door softly and revealed the glittering
+booty.
+
+At sight of it the foreign gent could not suppress an ejaculation, but
+the younger one clapped his hand before his mouth hurriedly.
+
+The foreign gent unrolled a sort of green baize apron he had round him;
+it was, in reality, a bag.
+
+Into this receptacle the pair conveyed one piece of plate after another
+with surprising dexterity, rapidity, and noiseless-ness. When it was
+full, they began to fill the deep pockets of their shooting-jackets.
+
+While thus employed, they heard a rapid footstep, and Richard Bassett
+opened the door. He was in his trousers and shirt, and had a pistol in
+his hand.
+
+At sight of him Reginald uttered a cry of dismay; the foreign gent blew
+out the light.
+
+Richard Bassett, among whose faults want of personal courage was not
+one, rushed forward and collared Reginald.
+
+But the foreign gent had raised the crowbar to defend himself, and
+struck him a blow on the head that made him stagger back.
+
+The foreign gent seized this opportunity, and ran at once at the window
+and jumped at it.
+
+If Reginald had been first, he would have gone through like a cat, but
+the foreign gent, older, and obstructed by the contents of his pocket,
+higgled and stuck a few seconds in the window.
+
+That brief delay was fatal; Richard Bassett leveled his pistol
+deliberately at him, fired, and sent a ball through his shoulder; he
+fell like a log upon the ground outside.
+
+Richard then leveled another barrel at Reginald, but he howled out for
+quarter, and was immediately captured, and with the assistance of the
+brave Jessie, who now came boldly to her master's aid, his hands were
+tied behind him and he was made prisoner, with the stolen articles in
+his pocket.
+
+When they were tying him, he whimpered, and said it was only a lark; he
+never meant to keep anything. He offered a hundred pounds down if they
+would let him off.
+
+But there was no mercy for him.
+
+Richard Bassett had a candle lighted, and inspected the prisoner. He
+lifted his crape veil, and said "Oho!"
+
+"You see it was only a lark," said Reginald, and shook in every limb.
+
+Richard Bassett smiled grimly, and said nothing. He gave Jessie strict
+orders to hold her tongue, and she and he between them took Reginald
+and locked him up in a small room adjoining the kitchen.
+
+They then went to look for the other burglar.
+
+He had emptied his pockets of all the plate, and crawled away. It is
+supposed he threw away the plate, either to soften Reginald's offense,
+or in the belief that he had received his death wound, and should not
+require silver vessels where he was going.
+
+Bassett picked up the articles and brought them in, and told Jessie to
+light the fire and make him a cup of coffee.
+
+He replaced all the plate, except the articles left in Reginald's
+pocket.
+
+Then he went upstairs, and told his wife that burglars had broken into
+the house, but had taken nothing; she was to give herself no anxiety.
+He told her no more than this, for his dark and cruel nature had
+already conceived an idea he did not care to communicate to her, on
+account of the strong opposition he foresaw from so good a Christian:
+besides, of late, since her daughter came home to back her, she had
+spoken her mind more than once.
+
+He kept them then in the dark, and went downstairs again to his coffee.
+
+He sat and sipped it, and, with it, his coming vengeance.
+
+All the defeats and mortifications he had endured from Huntercombe
+returned to his mind; and now, with one masterstroke he would balance
+them all.
+
+Yet he felt a little compunction.
+
+Active hostilities had ceased for many years.
+
+Lady Bassett, at all events, had held out the hand to his wife. The
+blow he meditated was very cruel: would not his wife and daughter say
+it was barbarous? Would not his own heart, the heart of a father,
+reproach him afterward?
+
+These misgivings, that would have restrained a less obstinate man,
+irritated Richard Bassett: he went into a rage, and said aloud, "I must
+do it: I will do it, come what may."
+
+He told Jessie he valued her much: she should have a black silk gown
+for her courage and fidelity; but she must not be faithful by halves.
+She must not breathe one word to any soul in the house that the burglar
+was there under lock and key; if she did, he should turn her out of the
+house that moment.
+
+"Hets!" said the woman, "der ye think I canna haud my whist, when the
+maister bids me? I'm nae great clasher at ony time, for my pairt."
+
+At seven o'clock in the morning he sent a note to Sir Charles Bassett,
+to say that his house had been attacked last night by two armed
+burglars; he and his people had captured one, and wished to take him
+before a magistrate at once, since his house was not a fit place to
+hold him secure. He concluded Sir Charles would not refuse him the
+benefit of the law, however obnoxious he might be.
+
+Sir Charles's lips curled with contempt at the man who was not ashamed
+to put such a doubt on paper.
+
+However, he wrote back a civil line, to say that of course he was at
+Mr. Bassett's service, and would be in his justice-room at nine
+o'clock.
+
+Meantime, Mr. Richard Bassett went for the constable and an assistant;
+but, even to them, he would not say precisely what he wanted them for.
+
+His plan was to march an unknown burglar, with his crape on his face,
+into Sir Charles's study, give his evidence, and then reveal the son to
+the father.
+
+Jessie managed to hold her tongue for an hour or two, and nothing
+occurred at Highmore or in Huntercombe to interfere with Richard
+Bassett's barbarous revenge.
+
+Meantime, however, something remarkable had occurred at the distance of
+a mile and a quarter.
+
+Mrs. Meyrick breakfasted habitually at eight o'clock.
+
+Reginald did not appear.
+
+Mrs. Meyrick went to his room, and satisfied herself he had not passed
+the night there.
+
+Then she went to the foreign gent's shed.
+
+He was not there.
+
+Then she went out, and called loudly to them both.
+
+No answer.
+
+Then she went into the nearest meadow, to see if they were in sight.
+
+The first thing she saw was the foreign gent staggering toward her.
+
+"Drunk!" said she, and went to scold him; but, when she got nearer, she
+saw at once that something very serious had happened. His dark face was
+bloodless and awful, and he could hardly drag his limbs along; indeed
+they had failed him a score of times between Highmore and that place.
+
+Just as she came up with him he sank once more to the ground, and
+turned up two despairing eyes toward her.
+
+"Oh, daddy! what is it? Where's Reginald? Whatever have they done to
+you?"
+
+"Brandy!" groaned the wounded man.
+
+She flew into the house, and returned in a moment with a bottle. She
+put it to his lips.
+
+He revived and told her all, in a few words.
+
+"The young bloke and I went to crack a crib. I'm shot with a bullet.
+Hide me in that loose hay there; leave me the bottle, and let nobody
+come nigh me. The beak will be after me very soon."
+
+Then Mrs. Meyrick, being a very strong woman, dragged him to the
+haystack, and covered him with loose hay.
+
+"Now," said she, trembling, "where's my boy?"
+
+"He's nabbed."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"And he'll be lagged, unless you can beg him off."
+
+Mary Meyrick uttered a piercing scream.
+
+"You wretch! to tempt my boy to this. And him with five hundred pounds
+in his pocket, and my lady's favor. Oh, why did we not keep our word
+with her? She was the wisest, and our best friend. But it is all your
+doing; you are the devil that tempted him, you old villain!"
+
+"Don't miscall me," said the gypsy.
+
+"Not miscall you, when you have run away, and left them to take my boy
+to jail! No word is bad enough for you, you villain!"
+
+_"I'm your father--and a dying man,"_ said the old gypsy, calmly, and
+folded his hands upon his breast with Oriental composure and decency.
+
+The woman threw herself on her knees.
+
+Forgive me, father--tell me, where is he?"
+
+"Highmore House."
+
+At that simple word her eyes dilated with wild horror, she uttered a
+loud scream, and flew into the house.
+
+In five minutes she was on her way to Highmore.
+
+She reached that house, knocked hastily at the door, and said she must
+see Mr. Richard Bassett that moment.
+
+"He is just gone out," said the maid.
+
+"Where to?"
+
+The girl knew her, and began to gossip. "Why, to Huntercombe Hall.
+What! haven't you heard, Mrs. Meyrick? Master caught a robber last
+night. Laws! you should have seen him: he have got crape all over his
+face; and master, and the constable, and Mr. Musters, they be all gone
+with him to Sir Charles, for to have him committed--the villain! Why,
+what ails the woman?"
+
+For Mary Meyrick turned her back on the speaker, and rushed away in a
+moment.
+
+She went through the kitchen at Huntercombe: she was so well known
+there, nobody objected: she flew up the stairs, and into Lady Bassett's
+bedroom. "Oh, my lady! my lady!"
+
+Lady Bassett screamed, at her sudden entrance and wild appearance.
+
+Mary Meyrick told her all in a few wild words. She wrung her hands with
+a great fear.
+
+"It's no time for that," cried Mary, fiercely. "Come down this moment,
+and save him."
+
+"How can I?"
+
+"You must! You shall!" cried the other. "Don't ask me how. Don't sit
+wringing your hands, woman. If you are not there in five minutes to
+save him, I'll tell all."
+
+"Have mercy on me!" cried Lady Bassett. "I gave him money, I sent him
+away. It's not my fault."
+
+"No matter; he must be saved, or I'll ruin you. I can't stay here: I
+must be there, and so must you."
+
+She rushed down the stairs, and tried to get into the justice-room, but
+admission was refused her.
+
+Then she gave a sort of wild snarl, and ran round to the small room
+adjoining the justice-room. Through this she penetrated, and entered
+the justice-room, but not in time to prevent the evidence from being
+laid before Sir Charles.
+
+What took place in the meantime was briefly this: The prisoner,
+handcuffed now instead of tied, was introduced between the constable
+and his assistant; the door was locked, and Sir Charles received Mr.
+Bassett with a ceremonious bow, seated himself, and begged Mr. Bassett
+to be seated.
+
+"Thank you," said Mr. Bassett, but did not seat himself. He stood
+before the prisoner and gave his evidence; during which the prisoner's
+knees were seen to knock together with terror: he was a young man fit
+for folly, but not for felony.
+
+Said Richard Bassett, "I have a cupboard containing family plate. It is
+valuable, and some years ago I passed a piece of catgut from the door
+through the ceiling to a bell at my bedside.
+
+"Very late last night the bell sounded. I flung on my trousers, and
+went down with a pistol. I caught two burglars in the act of rifling
+the cupboard. I went to collar one; he struck me on the head with a
+crowbar--constable, show the crowbar--I staggered, but recovered
+myself, and fired at one of the burglars: he was just struggling
+through the window. He fell, and I thought he was dead, but he got
+away. I secured the other, and here he is--just as he was when I took
+him. Constable, search his pockets."
+
+The constable did so, and produced therefrom several pieces of silver
+plate stamped with the Bassett arms.
+
+"My servant here can confirm this," added Mr. Bassett.
+
+"It is not necessary here," said Sir Charles. Then to the criminal,
+"Have you anything to say?"
+
+"It was only a lark," quavered the poor wretch.
+
+"I would not advise you to say that where you are going."
+
+He then, while writing out the warrant, said, as a matter of course,
+"Remove his mask."
+
+The constable lifted it, and started back with a shout of dismay and
+surprise: Jessie screamed.
+
+Sir Charles looked up, and saw in the burglar he was committing for
+trial his first-born, the heir to his house and his lands.
+
+The pen fell from Sir Charles's fingers, and he stared at the wan face,
+and wild, imploring eyes that stared at him.
+
+He stared at the lad, and then put his hand to his heart, and that
+heart seemed to die within him.
+
+There was a silence, and a horror fell on all. Even Richard Bassett
+quailed at what he had done.
+
+"Ah! cruel man! cruel man!" moaned the broken father. "God judge you
+for this--as now I must judge my unhappy son. Mr. Bassett, it matters
+little to you what magistrate commits you, and I must keep my oath. I
+am--going--to set you an--example, by signing a warrant--"
+
+"No, no, no!" cried a woman's voice, and Mary Meyrick rushed into the
+room.
+
+Every person there thought he knew Mary Meyrick; yet she was like a
+stranger to them now. There was that in her heart at that awful moment
+which transfigured a handsome but vulgar woman into a superior being.
+Her cheek was pale, her black eyes large, and her mellow voice had a
+magic power. "You don't know what you are doing!" she cried. "Go no
+farther, or you will all curse the hand that harmed a hair of his head;
+you, most of all, Richard Bassett."
+
+Sir Charles, in any other case, would have sent her out of the room;
+but, in his misery, he caught at the straw.
+
+"Speak out, woman," he said, "and save the wretched boy, if you can. I
+see no way."
+
+"There are things it is not fit to speak before all the world. Bid
+those men go, and I'll open your eyes that stay."
+
+Then Richard Bassett foresaw another triumph, so he told the constable
+and his man they had better retire for a few minutes, "while," said he,
+with a sneer, "these wonderful revelations are being made."
+
+When they were gone, Mary turned to Richard Bassett, and said "Why do
+you want him sent to prison?--to spite Sir Charles here, to stab his
+heart through his son."
+
+Sir Charles groaned aloud.
+
+The woman heard, and thought of many things. She flung herself on her
+knees, and seized his hand. "Don't you cry, my dear old master; mine is
+the only heart shall bleed. HE IS NOT YOUR SON."
+
+"What!" cried Sir Charles, in a terrible voice.
+
+"That is no news to me," said Richard. "He is more like the parson than
+Sir Charles Bassett."
+
+"For shame! for shame!" cried Mary Meyrick. "Oh, it becomes you to give
+fathers to children when you don't know your own flesh and blood! He is
+YOUR SON, RICHARD BASSETT."
+
+
+
+_"My_ son!" roared Bassett, in utter amazement.
+
+"Ay. I should know; FOR I AM HIS MOTHER."
+
+This astounding statement was uttered with all the majesty of truth,
+and when she said "I am his mother," the voice turned tender all in a
+moment.
+
+They were all paralyzed; and, absorbed in this strange revelation, did
+not hear a tottering footstep: a woman, pale as a corpse, and with eyes
+glaring large, stood among them, all in a moment, as if a ghost had
+risen from the earth.
+
+It was Lady Bassett.
+
+At sight of her, Sir Charles awoke from the confusion and amazement
+into which Mary had thrown him, and said, "Ah--! Bella, do you hear
+what she says, that he is not our son? What, then, have you agreed with
+your servant to deceive your husband?"
+
+Lady Bassett gasped, and tried to speak; but before the words would
+come, the sight of her corpse-like face and miserable agony moved Mary
+Wells, and she snatched the words out of her mouth.
+
+"What is the use of questioning _her?_ She knows no more than you do. I
+done it all; and done it for the best. My lady's child died; I hid that
+from her; for I knew it would kill her, and keep you in a mad-house. I
+done for the best: I put my live child by her side, and she knew no
+better. As time went on, and the boy so dark, she suspected; but know
+it she couldn't till now. My lady, I am his mother, and there stands
+his cruel father; cruel to me, and cruel to him. But don't you dare to
+harm him; I've got all your letters, promising me marriage; I'll take
+them to your wife and daughter, and they shall know it is your own
+flesh and blood you are sending to prison. Oh, I am mad to threaten
+him! my darling, speak him fair; he is your father; he may have a bit
+of nature in his heart somewhere, though I could never find it."
+
+The young man put his hands together, like an Oriental, and said,
+"Forgive me," then sank at Richard Bassett's knees.
+
+Then Sir Charles, himself much shaken, took his wife's arm and led her,
+trembling like an aspen leaf, from the room.
+
+Perhaps the prayers of Reginald and the tears of his mother would alone
+have sufficed to soften Richard Bassett, but the threat of exposure to
+his wife and daughter did no harm. The three soon came to terms.
+
+Reginald to be liberated on condition of going to London by the next
+train, and never setting his foot in that parish again. His mother to
+go with him, and see him off to Australia. She solemnly pledged herself
+not to reveal the boy's real parentage to any other soul in the world.
+
+This being settled, Richard Bassett called the constable in, and said
+the young gentleman had satisfied him that it was a practical joke,
+though a very dangerous one, and he withdrew the charge of felony.
+
+The constable said he must have Sir Charles's authority for that.
+
+A message was sent to Sir Charles. He came. The prisoner was released,
+and Mary Meyrick took his arm sharply, as much as to say, "Out of my
+hands you go no more."
+
+Before they left the room, Sir Charles, who was now master of himself,
+said, with deep feeling, "My poor boy, you can never be a stranger to
+me. The affection of years cannot be untied in a moment. You see now
+how folly glides into crime, and crime into punishment. Take this to
+heart, and never again stray from the paths of honor. Lead an honorable
+life; and, if you do, write to me as if I was still your father."
+
+They retired, but Richard Bassett lingered, and hung his head.
+
+Sir Charles wondered what this inveterate foe could have to say now.
+
+At last Richard said, half sullenly, yet with a touch of compunction,
+"Sir Charles, you have been more generous than I was. You have laid me
+under an obligation."
+
+Sir Charles bowed loftily.
+
+"You would double that obligation if you would prevail on Lady Bassett
+to keep that old folly of mine secret from my wife and daughter. I am
+truly ashamed of it; and, whatever my faults may have been, they love
+and respect me."
+
+"Mr. Bassett," said Sir Charles, "my son Compton must be told that he
+is my heir; but no details injurious to you shall transpire: you may
+count on absolute secrecy from Lady Bassett and myself."
+
+"Sir Charles," said Richard Bassett, faltering for a moment, "I am very
+much obliged to you, and I begin to be sorry we are enemies.
+Good-morning."
+
+The agitation and terror of this scene nearly killed Lady Bassett on
+the spot. She lay all that day in a state of utter prostration.
+
+Meantime Sir Charles put this and that together, but said nothing. He
+spoke cheerfully and philosophically to his wife--said it had been a
+fearful blow, terrible wrench: but it was all for the best; such a son
+as that would have broken his heart before long.
+
+"Ah, but your wasted affections!" groaned Lady Bassett; and her tears
+streamed at the thought.
+
+Sir Charles sighed; but said, after a while, "Is affection ever
+entirely wasted? My love for that young fool enlarged my heart. There
+was a time he did me a deal of good."
+
+But next day, having only herself to think of now, Lady Bassett could
+live no longer under the load of deceit. She told Sir Charles Mary
+Meyrick had deceived him. "Read this," she said, "and see what your
+miserable wife has done, who loved you to madness and crime."
+
+Sir Charles looked at her, and saw in her wasted form and her face
+that, if he did read it, he should kill her; so he played the man: he
+restrained himself by a mighty effort, and said, "My dear, excuse me;
+but on this matter I have more faith in Mary Meyrick's exactness than
+in yours. Besides, I know your heart, and don't care to be told of your
+errors in judgment, no, not even by yourself. Sorry to offend an
+authoress; but I decline to read your book, and, more than that, I
+forbid you the subject entirely for the next thirty years, at least.
+Let by-gones be by-gones."
+
+
+
+That eventful morning Mr. Rutland called and proposed to Ruperta. She
+declined politely, but firmly.
+
+She told Mrs. Bassett, and Mrs. Bassett told Richard in a nervous way,
+but his answer surprised her. He said he was very glad of it; Ruperta
+could do better.
+
+Mrs. Bassett could not resist the pleasure of telling Lady Bassett. She
+went over on purpose, with her husband's consent.
+
+Lady Bassett asked to see Ruperta. "By all means," said Richard
+Bassett, graciously.
+
+On her return to Highmore, Ruperta asked leave to go to the Hall every
+day and nurse Lady Bassett. "They will let her die else," said she.
+Richard Bassett assented to that, too. Ruperta, for some weeks, almost
+lived at the Hall, and in this emergency revealed great qualities. As
+the malevolent small-pox, passing through the gentle cow, comes out the
+sovereign cow-pox, so, in this gracious nature, her father's vices
+turned to their kindred virtues; his obstinacy of purpose shone here a
+noble constancy; his audacity became candor, and his cunning wisdom.
+Her intelligence saw at once that Lady Bassett was pining to death, and
+a weak-minded nurse would be fatal: she was all smiles and brightness,
+and neglected no means to encourage the patient.
+
+With this view, she promised to plight her faith to Compton the moment
+Lady Bassett should be restored to health; and so, with hopes and
+smiles, and the novelty of a daughter's love, she fought with death for
+Lady Bassett, and at last she won the desperate battle.
+
+This did Richard Bassett's daughter for her father's late enemy.
+
+The grateful husband wrote to Bassett, and now acknowledged _his_
+obligation.
+
+A civil, mock-modest reply from Richard Bassett.
+
+From this things went on step by step, till at last Compton and
+Ruperta, at eighteen years of age, were formally betrothed.
+
+Thus the children's love wore out the father's hate.
+
+That love, so troubled at the outset, left, by degrees, the region of
+romance, and rippled smoothly through green, flowery meadows.
+
+Ruperta showed her lover one more phase of girlhood; she, who had been
+a precocious and forward child, and then a shy and silent girl, came
+out now a bright and witty young woman, full of vivacity, modesty, and
+sensibility. Time cured Compton of his one defect. Ruperta stopped
+growing at fifteen, but Compton went slowly on; caught her at
+seventeen, and at nineteen had passed her by a head. He won a
+scholarship at Oxford, he rowed in college races, and at last in the
+University race on the Thames.
+
+Ruperta stood, in peerless beauty, dark blue from throat to feet, and
+saw his boat astern of his rival, saw it come up with, and creep ahead,
+amid the roars of the multitude. When she saw her lover, with bare
+corded arms, as brown as a berry, and set teeth, filling his glorious
+part in that manly struggle within eight yards of her, she confessed he
+was not a boy now.
+
+But Lady Bassett accepted no such evidence: being pestered to let them
+marry at twenty years of age, she clogged her consent with one
+condition--they must live three years at Huntercombe as man and wife.
+
+"No boy of twenty," said she, "can understand a young woman of that
+age. I must be in the house to prevent a single misunderstanding
+between my beloved children."
+
+The young people, who both adored her, voted the condition reasonable.
+They were married, and a wing of the spacious building allotted to
+them.
+
+For their sakes let us hope that their wedded life, now happily
+commenced, will furnish me no materials for another tale: the happiest
+lives are uneventful.
+
+The foreign gent recovered his wound, but acquired rheumatism and a
+dislike for midnight expeditions.
+
+Reginald galloped a year or two over seven hundred miles of colony,
+sowing his wild oats as he flew, but is now a prosperous squatter, very
+fond of sleeping in the open air. England was not big enough for the
+bold Bohemian. He does very well where he is.
+
+Old Meyrick died, and left his wife a little estate in the next county.
+Drake asked her hand at the funeral. She married him in six months, and
+migrated to the estate in question; for Sir Charles refused her a lease
+of his farm, not choosing to have her near him.
+
+Her new abode was in the next parish to her sister's.
+
+La Marsh set herself to convert Mary, and often exhorted her to
+penitence; she bore this pretty well for some time, being overawed by
+old reminiscences of sisterly superiority: but at last her vanity
+rebelled. "Repent! and Repent!" cried she. "Why you be like a cuckoo,
+all in one song. One would think I had been and robbed a church. 'Tis
+all very well for you to repent, as led a fastish life at starting:
+_but I never done nothing as I'm ashamed on."_
+
+
+
+Richard Bassett said one day to Wheeler, "Old fellow, there is not a
+worse poison than Hate. It has made me old before my time. And what
+does it all come to? We might just as well have kept quiet; for my
+grandson will inherit Huntercombe and Bassett, after all--"
+
+"Thanks to the girl you would not ring the bells for."
+
+
+
+Sir Charles and Lady Bassett lead a peaceful life after all their
+troubles, and renew their youth in their children, of whom Ruperta is
+one, and as dear as any.
+
+Yet there is a pensive and humble air about Lady Bassett, which shows
+she still expiates her fault, though she knows it will always be
+ignored by him for whose sake she sinned.
+
+In summing her up, it may be as well to compare this with the unmixed
+self-complacency of Mrs. Drake.
+
+You men and women, who judge this Bella Bassett, be firm, and do not
+let her amiable qualities or her good intentions blind you in a plain
+matter of right and wrong: be charitable, and ask yourselves how often
+in your lives you have seen yourselves, or any other human being,
+resist a terrible temptation.
+
+My experience is, that we resist other people's temptations nobly, and
+succumb to our own.
+
+So let me end with a line of England's gentlest satirist--
+
+"Heaven be merciful to us all, sinners as we be."
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Terrible Temptation, by Charles Reade
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION ***
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