I tell you that your precious letter brought Sir Charles
Bassett to the brink of the grave. Soon as ever he got it he came
tearing in his cab to Miss Somerset's house, and accused her of telling
the lie to keep him--and he might have known better, for the jade never
did a sneaking thing in her life. But, any way, he thought it must be
her doing, miscalled her like a dog, and raged at her dreadful, and at
last--what with love and fury and despair--he had the terriblest fit
you ever saw. He fell down as black as your hat, and his eyes rolled,
and his teeth gnashed, and he foamed at the mouth, and took four to
hold him; and presently as white as a ghost, and given up for dead. No
pulse for hours; and when his life came back his reason was gone."
"Good Heavens, madam!"
"For a time it was. How he did rave! and 'Bella' the only name on his
lips. And now he lies in his own house as weak as water. Come, old
gentleman, don't you be too hard; you are not a child, like your
daughter; take the world as it is. Do you think you will ever find a
man of fortune who has not had a lady friend? Why, every single
gentleman in London that can afford to keep a saddle-horse has an
article of that sort in some corner or other; and if he parts with her
as soon as his banns are cried, that is all you can expect.
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