Soon after this, as Sir Charles Bassett sat by the fire, disconsolate, his servant told him a lady wanted to see him.
“Who is it?”
“Don't know, Sir Charles; but it is a kind of a sort of a nun, Sir Charles.”
“Oh, a Sister of Charity! Perhaps the one that nursed me. Admit her, by all means.”
The Sister came in. She had a large veil on. Sir Charles received her with profound respect, and thanked her, with some little hesitation, for her kind attention to him. She stopped him by saying that was merely her duty. “But,” said she, softly, “words fell from you, on the bed of sickness, that touched my heart; and besides I happen to know the lady.”
“You know my Bella!” cried Sir Charles. “Ah, then no wonder you speak so kindly; you can feel what I have lost. She has left England to avoid me.”
“All the better. Where she is the door cannot be closed in your face. She is at Baden. Follow her there. She has heard the truth from Mr. Oldfield, and she knows who wrote the anonymous letter.”
“And who did?”
“Mr. Richard Bassett.”
This amazed Sir Charles.