"That is all nonsense, Turner," replied the Countess; "what I have to do now, cannot be a pleasure to any one concerned; but it is forced upon me. Tell me, you who have such skilful means of gratifying hearts that love, have you not means of satisfying hate, as well?"
"Really, my lady, I don't know what you mean," said Mrs. Turner. "You must speak clearly; and I will give you a clear answer."
"Pshaw," cried the Countess, impatiently; "half of your trade, woman, is to understand at a mere hint. Tell me, if you had an enemy, one that you dreaded, one that rendered it necessary for your safety that he should be removed, could you not find means--without much apparent dealing with him--to free yourself from your danger, and from his enmity?"
Mrs. Turner gazed silently in her face, for a moment, and then, in a voice sunk to a whisper, asked, "Is it my lord your husband?"
"He!" cried the Countess, with a scoff. "But I have no husband," she added, the moment after; "if you mean the Earl of Essex, poor creature, my hate ceased as soon as he ceased to trouble me. The idle bond between us will be soon snapped by the fingers of law; and henceforward I care no more about him than about any of the thousands who walk the streets of London, and whom I have never seen. No, no, it is another, a much less person; for you might fear to put your fingers in the peerage. But answer me my question. Were such your case, could you not find means, I say?"
"Perhaps I could, my Lady," answered Mrs. Turner, in a grave tone. "Perhaps I could."
"Then you must make my hatred yours," replied the Countess, "and work against my enemies as if they were your own."
"That I will, madam, I am sure, with all my heart," answered her worthy confederate. "But I must have help, my lady."
"You shall have such assistance as shall render all easy," replied the Countess.
"Ay," rejoined Mrs. Turner; "but what I mean is, I cannot undertake this thing alone. Good Doctor Foreman must give us assistance. I doubt you would not like bloodshed?"