He talked so long on the subject, that Mr. Munden, either to get rid of him, or because he was really uncertain what to do, at last told him that he would consider on what he had been saying, and let him know his resolution in a week's time. Mr. Markland then replied, that he would trouble him no farther for the present; and after having prefixed a day for waiting on him again, took his leave.
The mind of Mr. Munden was, indeed, in the utmost confusion amidst that variety of vexatious incidents which he had now to struggle with—the little probability he found there was of re-establishing himself in the favour of his patron—the loss of all his hopes that way—the sudden departure of a wife whom, though he had no affection for, he looked upon as a necessary appendix to his house—the noise her having taken such a step would make in the town—the apprehensions of being obliged to grant her a separate maintenance; all these things put together, it is certain, were sufficient to overwhelm a man of less impatient temper.
He cursed his amour with the Frenchwoman, as having been the cause of this last misfortune falling on him; and, to prevent all farther trouble on her account, ordered that the baggage she had left behind should be immediately put on board a vessel, and sent after her to Bologne: he also wrote to her at the same time, acquainting her with the disturbance which had happened; and that it was highly necessary for his future peace that he should see her no more, nor even hold any correspondence with her.
Mrs. Munden, in the mean time, was far from being perfectly easy; though Mr. Markland gave her hopes that her husband would very speedily be brought to settle things between them in a reasonable way; and her brother was every day giving her fresh assurances of his friendship and protection, whether that event proved favourable or not: yet all this was not enough to quell some scruples which now rose in her mind; the violence of that passion which had made her resolve to leave Mr. Munden being a little evaporated, the vows she had made him at the altar were continually in her thoughts; she could not quite assure herself that a breach of that solemn covenant was to be justified by any provocations; nor whether the worst usage on the part of the husband could authorize resentment in that of a wife.
She was one day disburdening her disquiets on this score to her dear Lady Loveit, in terms which made that lady see, more than ever she had done before, the height of her virtue, and the delicacy of her sentiments, when Sir Bazil came hastily into the room with a paper in his hand; and after paying his compliments to Mrs. Munden, 'My dear,' said he to his lady, 'I have very agreeable news to tell you; I have just received a letter from my brother Trueworth, which informs me that he is upon the road, and we shall have him with us this evening.'—'I am extremely glad,' replied she; 'and, likewise, that he is so good to let us know it, that I may make some little preparations for his welcome.'
Mrs. Munden could not be told that Mr. Trueworth was so near, and might presently be in the same room with her, without the utmost confusion; which she fearing would be observed, laid hold of the pretence Lady Loveit's last words furnished her with, of taking her leave; and, rising hastily up, 'I will wait on your ladyship,' said she, 'at a more convenient time; for I perceive you are now going to be busy.'—'Not at all,' replied the other; 'three words will serve for all the instructions I have to give; therefore, pr'ythee, dear creature, sit down.' In speaking these words, she took hold of one of her hands, and Sir Bazil of the other, in order to replace her on the settee she had just quitted; but she resisting their efforts, and desiring to be excused staying any longer, 'I protest,' cried Lady Loveit, 'this sudden resolution of leaving us would make one think you did it to avoid Mr. Trueworth! and, if that be the case, I must tell you, that you are very ungrateful, as he always expresses the greatest regard for you.'—'Aye, aye!' said Sir Bazil, laughing; 'old love cannot be forgot: I have heard him utter many tender things of the charming Miss Betsy Thoughtless, even since his marriage with my sister.'
'I ought not, then,' replied she, 'to increase the number of obligations I have to him by that compassion which I know he would bestow on my present distress: but I assure you, Sir Bazil, I would not quit you and my dear Lady Loveit thus abruptly, if some letters I have to write, and other affairs which require immediate dispatch, did not oblige me to it.'
On this they would not offer to detain her; and she went home to give a loose to those agitations which the mention of Mr. Trueworth always involved her in.