Part 46 (1/2)

”That is very kind of you. It will flatter the doctor, the more so as he has so high an opinion of you. But now, Mr. Coyne, I suppose if I am very good, and promise to soothe him, and not excite him, I may see my husband to-day?”

”Certainly, madam. You have an order from the person who--”

”I forgot to bring it with me. I relied on your humanity.”

”That is unfortunate. I am afraid I must not--” He hesitated, looked very uncomfortable, and said he would consult Mr. Appleton; then, suddenly puckering his face into obsequiousness, ”Would your ladys.h.i.+p like to inspect some of our arrangements for the comfort of our patients?”

Lady Ba.s.sett would have declined the proposal but for the singular play of countenance; she was herself all eye and mind, so she said, gravely, ”I shall be very happy, sir.”

Mr. Coyne then led the way, and showed her a large sitting-room, where some ladies were seated at different occupations and amus.e.m.e.nts: they kept more apart from each other than ladies do in general; but this was the only sign a far more experienced observer than Lady Ba.s.sett could have discovered, the nurses having sprung from authoritative into un.o.btrusive positions at the sound of Mr. Coyne's footstep outside.

”What!” said Lady Ba.s.sett; ”are all these ladies--” She hesitated.

”Every one,” said Mr. Coyne; ”and some incurably.”

”Oh, please let us retire; I have no right to gratify my curiosity.

Poor things! they don't seem unhappy.”

”Unhappy!” said Mr. Coyne. ”We don't allow unhappiness here; our doctor is too fond of them; he is always contriving something to please them.”

At this moment Lady Ba.s.sett looked up and saw a woman watching her over the rail of a corridor on the first floor. She recognized the face directly. The woman made her a rapid signal, and then disappeared into one of the rooms.

”Would there be any objection to our going upstairs, Mr. Coyne?” said Lady Ba.s.sett, with a calm voice and a heart thumping violently.

”Oh, none whatever. I'll conduct you; but then, I am afraid I must leave you for a time.”

He showed her upstairs, blew a whistle, handed her over to an attendant, and bowed and smiled himself away grotesquely.

Jones was the very keeper she had feed last visit. She flushed with joy at sight of bull-necked, burly Jones. ”Oh, Mr. Jones!” said she, putting her hands together with a look that might have melted a hangman.

Jones winked, and watched Mr. Coyne out of sight.

”I have seen your ladys.h.i.+p's maid,” said Jones, confidentially. ”It is all right. Mr. Coyne have got the blinkers on. Only pa.s.s me your word not to excite him.”

”Oh no, sir, I will soothe him.” And she trembled all over.

”Sally!” cried Jones.

The nurse came out of a room and held the door ajar; she whispered, ”I have prepared him, madam; he is all right.”

Lady Ba.s.sett, by a great effort, kept her feet from rus.h.i.+ng, her heart from crying out with joy, and she entered the room. Sally closed the door like a shot, with a delicacy one would hardly have given her credit for, to judge from appearances.

Sir Charles stood in the middle of the room, beaming to receive her, but restraining himself. They met: he held her to his heart; she wept for joy and grief upon his neck. Neither spoke for a long time.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THEY were seated hand in hand, comparing notes and comforting each other. Then Lady Ba.s.sett met with a great surprise: forgetting, or rather not realizing, Sir Charles's s.e.x and character, she began with a heavy heart to play the consoler; but after he had embraced her many times with tender rapture, and thanked G.o.d for the sight of her, lo and behold, this doughty baronet claimed his rights of manhood, and, in spite of his capture, his incarceration, and his malady, set to work to console her, instead of lying down to be consoled.

”My darling Bella,” said he, ”don't you make a mountain of a mole-hill.