nnot sleep for the
noise. We think of creeping toward home to-morrow, in an easy carriage.
Pray God you may soon meet us at dear Huntercombe. Our first journey
will be to that dear old comfortable inn at Winterfield, where you and
I were so happy, but not happier, dearest darling, than we shall soon
be again, I hope.

"Your devoted wife.

"BELLA BASSETT.

"My heartfelt thanks to Mr. Rolfe for all he is doing."

Sir Charles wanted to start that night for Winterfield, but Rolfe
persuaded him not. "And mind," said he, "the faithful pugilists must go
with you."

The morning's post rendered that needless. It brought another letter
from Suaby, informing Mr. Rolfe that the Commissioners had positively
discharged Sir Charles, and notified the discharge to Richard Bassett.

Sir Charles took leave of Mr. Rolfe as of a man who was to be his bosom
friend for life, and proceeded to hunt his wife.

She had left Winterfield; but he followed her like a stanch hound, and
when he stopped at a certain inn, some twenty miles from Huntercombe, a
window opened, there was a strange loving scream; he looked up, and saw
his wife's radiant face, and her figure ready to fly down to him. He
rushed upstairs, into the right room by some mighty instinct, and held
her, panting and crying for joy, in his arms.

That moment almost compensated what each had suffered.

CHAPTER XXXI.

So full was the joy of this loving pair that, for a long time, they sat
rocking in each other's arms, and thought of nothing but their sorrows
past, and the sea of bliss they were floating on.

But presently Sir Charles glanced round for a moment. Swift to
interpret his every look, Lady Bassett rose, took two steps, came back
and printed a kiss on his forehead, and then went to a door and opened
it.

"Mrs. Millar!" said she, with one of those tones by which these ladies
impregnate with meaning a word that has none at all; and then she came
back to her husband.

Soon a buxom woman of forty appeared, carrying a biggish bank of linen
and lace, with a little face in the middle. The good woman held it up
to Sir Charles, and he felt something novel stir inside him. He looked
at the little thing with a vast yearning of love, with pride, and a
good deal of curiosity; and then turned smiling to his wife. She had
watched him furtively but keenly, and her eyes were brimming over. He
kissed the little thing, and blessed it, and then took his wife's
hands, and