Messrs. Mosely and Donkyn retired to Highmore.
Bassett was particularly pleased at the baronet having kicked Donkyn; so was Wheeler; so was Dr. Mosely. Donkyn alone did not share the general enthusiasm.
When Sir Charles had disposed of Mr. Donkyn he turned on Mary Wells, and rated her soundly for bringing strangers into his room to gratify their curiosity; and when Lady Bassett came in he made his formal complaint, concluding with a proposal that one of two persons should leave Huntercombe, forever, that afternoon—Mary Wells or Sir Charles Bassett.
Mary replied, not to him, but to her mistress, “He came from Dr. Willis, my lady. It was Dr. Mosely; and the other gent was a surgeon.”
“Two medical men, sent by Dr. Willis?” said Lady Bassett, knitting her brow with wonder and a shade of doubt.
“A couple of her own sweethearts, sent by herself,” suggested Sir Charles.
Lady Bassett sat down and wrote a hasty letter to Dr. Willis. “Send a groom with it, as fast as he can ride,” said she; and she was much discomposed and nervous and impatient till the answer came bade.
Dr. Willis came in person. “I sent no one to take my place,” said he. “I esteem my patient too highly to let any stranger prescribe for him or even see him—for a few days to come.”
Lady Bassett sank into a chair, and her eloquent face filled with an undefinable terror.
Mary Wells, being on her defense, put in her word. “I am sure he was a doctor; for he wrote a prescription, and here 'tis.”