Dr. Willis wrote a prescription, and retired.
Lady Bassett sank into a chair, and trembled all over. Her divining fit was on her; she saw the hand of the enemy, and filled with vague fears.
Mary Wells tried to, comfort her. “I'll take care no more strangers get in here,” said she. “And, my lady, if you are afraid, why not have the keepers, and two or three more, to sleep in the house? for, as for them footmen, they be too soft to fight.”
“I will,” said Lady Bassett; “but I fear it will be no use. Our enemy has so many resources unknown to me. How can a poor woman fight with a shadow, that comes in a moment and strikes; and then is gone and leaves his victim trembling?”
Then she slipped into the dressing-room and became hysterical, out of her husband's sight and hearing.
Mary Wells nursed her, and, when she was better, whispered in her ear, “Lose no more time, then. Cure him. You know the way.”
CHAPTER XVII.
IN the present condition of her mind these words produced a strange effect on Lady Bassett. She quivered, and her eyes began to rove in that peculiar way I have already noticed; and then she started up and walked wildly to and fro; and then she kneeled down and prayed; and then, alarmed, perplexed, exhausted, she went and leaned her head on her patient's shoulder, and wept softly a long time.
Some days passed, and no more strangers attempted to see Sir Charles.