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.”