Richard Bassett soon found out that Lady Bassett had left Huntercombe. He called on Wheeler and told him. Wheeler suggested she had gone to be near her husband.
“No,” said Bassett, “she has joined her lover. I wonder at our simplicity in believing that fellow was gone to Italy.”
“This is rich,” said Wheeler. “A week ago she was guilty, and a Machiavel in petticoats; for why? she had quarreled with her Angelo, and packed him off to Italy. Now she is guilty; and why? because he is not gone to Italy—not that you know whether he is or not. You reason like a mule. As for me, I believe none of this nonsense—till you find them together.”
“And that is just what I mean to do.”
“We shall see.”
“You will see.”
Very soon after this a country gentleman met Wheeler on market-day, and drew him aside to ask him a question. “Do you advise Mr. Richard Bassett still?”
“Yes.”
“Did you set him to trespass on Lady Bassett's lawn, and frighten her with a great dog in the present state of her health?”
“Heaven forbid! This is the first I've heard of such a thing.”