“Now advise me,” said Bassett.
“It is not so easy. Of course if Sir Charles was to die, you could claim the estate, and give them a great deal of pain and annoyance; but the burden of proof would always rest on you. My advice is not to breathe a syllable of this; but get a good detective, and push your inquiries a little further among house agents, and the women they put into houses; find that charwoman, and see if you can pick up anything more.”
“Do you know such a thing as an able detective?”
“I know one that will work if I instruct him.”
“Instruct him, then.”
“I will.”
CHAPTER XXXV.
LADY BASSETT, as her time of trial drew near, became despondent.
She spoke of the future, and tried to pierce it; and in all these little loving speculations and anxieties there was no longer any mention of herself.