; 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?"