Charles," said
Jones. "But I didn't ought to take so much money for that. To be sure,
I suppose, the lady won't miss it."

"Don't be a donkey, Jones," said Sir Charles, cutting short his
hypocrisy. "Take whatever you can get; only earn it."

"Oh, what I takes I earns."

"Of course," said Sir Charles. "So that is settled. You have got to
physic those flower-pots instead of me, that is all."

This view of things tickled Jones so that he roared with laughter.
However, he recollected himself all of a sudden, and stopped with
ludicrous abruptness.

He said to Lady Bassett, with homely kindness, "You go home
comfortable, my lady; you have taken the stick by the right end." He
then had the good sense to retire from the room.

Then Lady Bassett told Sir Charles of her visit to London, and her
calling on Mr. Rolfe.

He looked blank at his wife calling on a bachelor; but her description
of the man, his age, and his simplicity, reconciled him to that; and
when she told him the plan and order of campaign Mr. Rolfe had given
her he approved it very earnestly.

He fastened in particular on something that Mr. Rolfe had dwelt lightly
on. "Dear as the sight of you is to me, sweet as the sound of your
loved voice is to my ears and my heart, I would rather not see you
again until our hopes are realized than jeopardize _that."_

Lady Bassett sighed, for this seemed rather morbid. Sir Charles went
on: "So think of your own health first, and avoid agitations. I am
tormented with fear lest that monster should take advantage of my
absence to molest you. If he does, leave Huntercombe. Yes, leave it; go
to London; go, even for my sake; my health and happiness depend on you;
they cannot be much affected by anything that happens here. 'Stone
walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage.'"

Lady Bassett promised, but said she could not keep away from him, and
he must often write to her. She gave him Rolfe's formula, and told him
all letters would pass that praised the asylum.

Sir Charles made a wry face.

Lady Bassett's wrist went round his neck in a moment. "Oh, Charles,
dear, for my sake--hold a little, little candle to the devil. Mr. Rolfe
says we must. Oblige me in this--I am not so noble as you--and then
I'll be very good and obedient in what your heart is set upon."

At last Sir Charles consented.

Then they made haste, and told each other everything that had happened,
and it was late in the afternoon before they parte