“Why doesn't the fool come back?” said Bassett, from his tower of observation.
He related this incident to Wheeler, and it impressed that worthy more than all he had ever said before on the same subject. But in a day or two Wheeler, who was a great gossip, and picked up every thing, came and told Bassett that the parson was looking out for a curate, and going to leave his living for a time, on the ground of health. “That is rather against your theory, Mr. Bassett,” said he.
“Not a bit,” said Bassett. “On the contrary, that is just what these artful women do who sacrifice virtue but cling all the more to reputation. I read French novels, my boy.”
“Very. They cut deeper into human nature than our writers dare. Her turning away her lover _now_ is just the act of what the French call a masterly woman--_maitresse femme._ She has got rid of him to close the mouth of scandal; that is her game.”
“Well,” said Wheeler, “you certainly are very ingenious, and so fortified in your opinions that with you facts are no longer stubborn things; you can twist them all your way. If he had stayed and buzzed about her, while her husband was incarcerated, you would have found her guilty: he goes to Rome and leaves her, and therefore you find her guilty. You would have made a fine hanging judge in the good old sanguinary times.”
“I use my eyes, my memory, and my reason. She is a monster of vice and deceit. Anything is fair against such a woman.”
“I am sorry to hear you say that,” said Wheeler, becoming grave rather suddenly. “A woman is a woman, and I tell you plainly I have gone pretty well to the end of my tether with you.”
“Abandon me, then,” said Bassett, doggedly; “I can go alone.”
Wheeler was touched by this, and said, “No, no; I am not the man to desert a friend; but pray do nothing rash--do nothing without consulting me.”
About a week after this, as Lady Bassett was walking sadly in her own garden, a great Newfoundland dog ran up to her without any warning, and put his paws almost on her shoulder.
She screamed violently, and more than once.
One or two windows flew open, and among the women who put their heads out to see what was the matter, Mary Wells was the first.
The owner of the dog instantly whistled, and the sportive animal ran to him; but Lady Bassett was a good deal scared, and went in holding her hand to her side. Mary Wells hurried to her assistance, and she cried a little from nervousness when the young woman came earnestly to her.