He considered he had put into practice a master stroke of diplomacy, and began to ruminate upon the best course to adopt in seeking an interview with Mrs. Bourne.
He had no desire to see the doctor—he wished to have a tête-à-tête with his wife.
CHAPTER XCVI.
THE GIPSY AMD MRS. BOURNE—THE SURPRISE.
Rawton deemed it best not to venture paying a visit to Mrs. Bourne without first of all making sure that the doctor was from home.
How this was to be ascertained, he could not at first determine, but after some consideration had been spent in reflection, he elected to send Cooney with a note addressed to Mrs. Bourne, with strict injunctions that it was to be delivered into her hands, and if this could not be conveniently done, Cooney was to return with the letter and wait a more favourable opportunity.
It took him some time to indite the brief epistle, which was couched in very guarded, albeit not in very elegant, language but it sufficed for the purpose.
Cooney was as hang-dog a looking rascal as it was well possible to conceive, but the gipsy had no other person to send upon whom he could rely—his messenger was by no means a fool—although of a common coarse type and as ignorant as a “hack horse;” but he was artful and was not easily “cornered,” to make use of an American phrase, so away he went upon his mission. The maid servant opened the door and Cooney asked if her mistress was disengaged.
“Suppose she is. What do you want with her?” inquired the girl, looking at the speaker with evident mistrust and suspicion.
“I don’t want anything with her, my dear,” returned Cooney, in oleaginous accents.