My Charles will forgive me when I am gone. He will know I loved him to
desperation."

It took her many days to write; it was quite a thick quarto; so much
may a woman feel in a year or two; and, need I say that, to the reader
of that volume, the mystery of her conduct was all made clear as
daylight; clearer far, as regards the revelation of mind and feeling,
than I, dealer in broad facts, shall ever make it, for want of a
woman's mental microscope and delicate brush.

And when this record was finished, she wrapped it in paper, and sealed
it with many seals, and wrote on it,

"Only for my husband's eye. From her who loved him not wisely, But too
well."

And she took other means that even the superscription should never be
seen of any other eye but his. It was some little comfort to her, when
the book was written.

She never prayed to live. But she used to pray, fervently, piteously,
that her child might live, and be a comfort and joy to his father.

The person employed by Wheeler discovered the house agent, and the
woman he had employed.

But these added nothing to the evidence Bassett had collected.

At last, however, this woman, under the influence of a promised reward,
discovered a person who was likely to know more about the matter--viz.,
the woman who was in the house with Lady Bassett at the very time.

But this woman scented gold directly: so she held mysterious language;
declined to say a word to the officer; but intimated that she knew a
great deal, and that the matter was, in truth, well worth looking into,
and she could tell some strange tales, if it was worth her while.

This information was sent to Bassett; he replied that the woman only
wanted money for her intelligence, and he did not blame her; he would
see her next time he went to town, and felt sure she would complete his
chain of evidence. This put Richard Bassett into extravagant spirits.
He danced his little boy on his knee, and said, "I'll run this little
horse against the parson's brat; five to one, and no takers."

Indeed, his exultation was so loud and extravagant that it jarred on
gentle Mrs. Bassett. As for Jessie, the Scotch servant, she shook her
head, and said the master was fey.

In the morning he started for London, still so exuberant and excited
that the Scotch woman implored her mistress not to let him go; there
would be an accident on the railway, or something. But Mrs. Bassett
knew her husband too well to interfere wi