The first note startled Lady Bassett, and she turned pale.
“I must leave you,” said Angelo, regretfully. “I have to bury Mr. Bassett's little boy; he lived an hour.”
Lady Bassett sat and heard the bell toll.
Strange, sad thoughts passed through her mind. “Is it saddest when it tolls, or when it rings—that bell? He has killed his own child by robbing me of my husband. We are in the hands of God, after all, let Wheeler be ever so cunning, and Oldfield ever so simple.—And I am not acting by that.—Where is my trust in God's justice?—Oh, thou of little faith!—What shall I do? Love is stronger in me than faith—stronger than anything in heaven or earth. God forgive me—God help me—I will go back.
“But oh, to stand still, and be good and simple, and to see my husband trampled on by a cunning villain!
“Why is there a future state, where everything is to be different? no hate; no injustice; all love. Why is it not all of a piece? Why begin wrong if it is to end all right? If I was omnipotent it should be right from the first.—Oh, thou of little faith!—Ah, me! it is hard to see fools and devils, and realize angels unseen. Oh, that I could shut my eyes in faith and go to sleep, and drift on the right path; for I shall never take it with my eyes open, and my heart bleeding for him.”
Then her head fell languidly back, her eyes closed, and the tears welled through them: they knew the way by this time.
CHAPTER XXII.
NEXT morning in came Mr. Angelo, with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes.