“Never,” said Richard.
In short, she gave him no opening. She would not quarrel. She adhered to him as she had never adhered to anything but a lie before.
Then he gave up all hope of smoothing the matter. He coolly cut her; never came to the trysting-place; did not answer her letters; and, being a reckless egotist, married Jane Wright all in a hurry, by special license.
He sent forward to the clerk of Huntercombe church, and engaged the ringers to ring the church-bells from six o'clock till sundown. This was for Sir Charles's ears.
It was a balmy evening in May. Lady Bassett was commencing her toilet in an indolent way, with Mary Wells in attendance, when the church-bells of Huntercombe struck up a merry peal.
“Ah!” said Lady Bassett; “what is that for? Do you know, Mary?”
“No, my lady. Shall I ask?”
“No; I dare say it is a village wedding.”
“No, my lady, there's nobody been married here this six weeks. Our kitchen-maid and the baker was the last, you know. I'll send, and know what it is for.” Mary went out and dispatched the first house-maid she caught for intelligence. The girl ran into the stable to her sweetheart, and he told her directly.
Meantime Lady Bassett moralized upon church-bells.