“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.