“I adore him. Introduce me at once. But Sir Charles must not see me, nor know I am here. Say Mrs. Marsh, a friend of Lady Bassett's, begs to be introduced.”
Sly Vandeleur delivered this to Rolfe; but whispered out of his own head, “A character for your next novel—a saint with the devil's own temper.”
This insidious addition brought Mr. Rolfe to her directly.
As might be expected from their go-ahead characters, these two knew each other intimately in about twelve minutes; and Rolfe told her all the facts I have related, and Marsh went into several passions, and corrected herself, and said she had been a great sinner, but was plucked from the burning, and therefore thankful to anybody who would give her a little bit of good to do.
Rolfe took prompt advantage of this foible, and urged her to see the Commissioners in Lunacy, and use all her eloquence to get one of them down. “They don't act upon my letters,” said he; “but it will be another thing if a beautiful, ardent woman puts it to them in person, with all that power of face and voice I see in you. You are all fire; and you can talk Saxon.”
“Oh, I'll talk to them,” said Mrs. Marsh, “and God will give me words; He always does when I am on His side. Poor Lady Bassett! my heart bleeds for her. I will go to London to-morrow; ay, to-night, if you like. To-night? I'll go this instant!”
“What!” said Rolfe: “is there a lady in the world who will go a journey without packing seven trunks—and merely to do a good action?”
“You forget. Penitent sinners must make up for lost time.”
“At that rate impenitent ones like me had better lose none. So I'll arm you at once with certain documents, and you must not leave the commissioners till they promise to send one of their number down without delay to examine him, and discharge him if he is as we represent.”
Mrs. Marsh consented warmly, and went with Rolfe to Dr. Suaby's study.