Miss Blanchard's name. This Mr. Darch has already done;
and the estate is now virtually in Miss Blanchard's possession.

"One result of this course of proceeding will be (as Bashwood thinks)
to put Mr. Darch in the position of the person who really decides on
my claim to the widow's place and the widow's money. The income being
charged on the estate, it must come out of Miss Blanchard's pocket; and
the question of paying it would appear, therefore, to be a question for
Miss Blanchard's lawyer. To-morrow will probably decide whether this
view is the right one, for my letter to Armadale's representatives will
have been delivered at the great house this morning.

"So much for what old Bashwood had to tell me. Having recovered my
influence over him, and possessed myself of all his information so
far, the next thing to consider was the right use to turn him to in the
future. He was entirely at my disposal, for his place at the steward's
office has been already taken by Miss Blanchard's man of business, and
he pleaded hard to be allowed to stay and serve my interests in London.
There would not have been the least danger in letting him stay, for I
had, as a matter of course, left him undisturbed in his conviction
that I really am the widow of Armadale of Thorpe Ambrose. But with the
doctor's resources at my command, I wanted no assistance of any sort in
London; and it occurred to me that I might make Bashwood more useful by
sending him back to Norfolk to watch events there in my interests.

"He looked sorely disappointed (having had an eye evidently to paying
his court to me in my widowed condition!) when I told him of the
conclusion at which I had arrived. But a few words of persuasion, and
a modest hint that he might cherish hopes in the future if he served
me obediently in the present, did wonders in reconciling him to the
necessity of meeting my wishes. He asked helplessly for 'instructions'
when it was time for him to leave me and travel back by the evening
train. I could give him none, for I had no idea as yet of what the
legal people might or might not do. 'But suppose something happens,' he
persisted, 'that I don't understand, what am I to do, so far away from
you?' I could only give him one answer. 'Do nothing,' I said. 'Whatever
it is, hold your tongue about it, and write, or come up to London
immediately to consult me.' With those parting directions, and with an
understanding that we were to correspond regularly,