Morally she was not quite so great an egotist as himself, but
intellectually a greater. Her volubility was all egotism. She could
scarcely say ten words, except about herself. So, when Bassett
questioned her about Sir Charles and Lady Bassett, she said "Yes," or
"No," or "I don't know," and was off at a tangent to her own sayings
and doings.
Bassett, however, by great patience and tact, extracted from her at
last that Sir Charles and Lady Bassett were both sore at not having
children, and that Lady Bassett bore the blame.
"That is a good joke," said he. "The smoke-dried rake! Polly, you might
do me a good turn. You have got her ear; open her eyes for me. What
might not happen?" His eyes shone fiendishly.
The young woman shook her head. "Me meddle between man and wife! I'm
too fond of my place."
"Ah, you don't love me as I love you. You think only of yourself."
"And what do you think of? Do you love me well enough to find me a
better place, if you get me turned out of Huntercombe Hall?"
"Yes, I will; a much better."
"That is a bargain."
Mary Wells was silly in some things, but she was very cunning, too; and
she knew Richard Bassett's hobby. She told him to mind himself, as well
as Sir Charles, or perhaps he would die a bachelor, and so his flesh
and blood would never inherit Huntercombe.
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