Lady Bassett was alarmed, and calmed it down.
“It was only a servant's construction, and she might be wrong; but it frightened me terribly; and I fear it is the beginning of a series of annoyances and encroachments; and I have lost Mr. Angelo; he has gone to Italy. Even Mary Wells left me this morning to be married. I think I know a way to turn all this against Mr. Bassett; but I will not say it, because I want to hear what you advise, dearest.”
Sir Charles did not leave her long in doubt. He said, “There is but one way; you must leave Huntercombe, and put yourself out of that miscreant's way until our child is born.”
“That would not grieve me,” said Lady Bassett. “The place is odious to me, now you are not there. But what would censorious people say?”
“What could they say, except that you obeyed your husband?”
“Is it a command, then, dearest?”
“It is a command; and, although you are free, and I am a prisoner—although you are still an ornament to society, and I pass for an outcast, still I expect you to obey me when I assume a husband's authority. I have not taken the command of you quite so much as you used to say I must; but on this occasion I do. You will leave Huntercombe, and avoid that caitiff until our child is born.”
“That ends all discussion,” said Lady Bassett. “Oh, Charles, my only regret is that it costs me nothing to obey you. But when did it ever? My king!”
He had ordered her to do the very thing she wished to do.
She now gave her housekeeper minute instructions, settled the board wages of the whole establishment, and sent her home in the carriage, retaining her own boxes and packages at the inn.