of it direct to my
lady just yet; and if you want all to go well, you mustn't vex my lady
as you are doing now. What I mean, you mustn't be so downhearted--
there's no reason for't--and you mustn't coop yourself up on this
floor: it sets the folks talking, and worries my lady. You should give
her every chance, being the way she is."

Sir Charles said eagerly he would not vex her for the world. "I'll walk
in the garden," said he; "but as for going abroad, you know I am not in
a fit condition yet; my mind is clouded."

"Not as I see."

"Oh, not always. But sometimes a cloud seems to get into my head; and
if I was in public I might do or say something discreditable. I would
rather die."

"La, sir!" said Mary Wells, in a broad, hearty way--"a cloud in your
head! You've had a bad fall, and a fit at top on't, and no wonder your
poor head do ache at times. You'll outgrow that--if you take the air
and give over fretting about the t'other thing. I tell you you'll hear
the music of a child's voice and little feet a-pattering up and down
this here corridor before so very long--if so be you take my advice,
and leave off fretting my lady with fretting of yourself. You should
consider: she is too fond of you to be well when you be ill."

"I'll get well for her sake," said Sir Charles, firmly.

At this moment there was a knock at the door. Mary Wells opened it so
that the servant could see nothing.

"Mr. Angelo has called."

"My lady will be down directly."

Mary Wells then slipped into the dressing-room, and found Lady Bassett
looking pale and wild. She had heard every word.

"There, he is better already," said Mary Wells. "He shall walk in the
garden with you this afternoon."

"What have you done? I can't look him in the face now. Suppose he
speaks to me?"

"He will not. I'll manage that. You won't have to say a word. Only
listen to what I say, and don't make a liar of me. He is better
already."

"How will this end?" cried Lady Bassett, helplessly. "What shall I do?"

"You must go downstairs, and not come here for an hour at least, or
you'll spoil my work. Mr. Angelo is in the drawing-room."

"I will go to him."

Lady Bassett slipped out by the other door, and it was three hours,
instead of one, before she returned.

For the first time in her life she was afraid to face her husband.

CHAPTER XIX.

MEANTIME Mary Wells had a long conversation with her master; and after
that she retired into the adjoinin