Lady Bassett got out, and, beckoning Mary Wells, followed the servant into a curious room, half library, half chemist's shop; they called it “the laboratory.”
Here she found a tall man leaning on a dirty mantelpiece, who received her stiffly. He had a pale mustache, very thin lips, and altogether a severe manner. His head bald, rather prematurely, and whiskers abundant.
Lady Bassett looked him all over with one glance of her woman's eye, and saw she had a hard and vain man to deal with.
“Are you the gentleman to whom this house belongs?” she faltered.
“No, madam; I am in charge during Dr. Suaby's absence.”
“That comes to the same thing. Sir, I am come to see my dear husband.”
“Have you an order?”
“An order, sir? I am his wife.”
Mr. Salter shrugged his shoulders a little, and said, “I have no authority to let any visitor see a patient without an order from the person by whose authority he is placed here, or else an order from the commissioners.”
“But that cannot apply to his wife; to her who is one with him, for better for worse, in sickness or health.”