“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.