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