"
He knocked at the door. Nobody came. Knocked again. A lugubrious female
opened the door.
"Lady Bassett?"
"Don't live here, sir. House to be let."
Sir Charles went to Mr. Boddington and told him.
Mr. Boddington said he thought he could not be mistaken; but he would
look at his address-book. He did, and said it was certainly 119
Gloucester Place; "Perhaps she has left," said he. "She was very
healthy--an excellent patient. But I should not have advised her to
move for a day or two more."
Sir Charles was sore puzzled. He dashed off to the agents, Parker &
Ellis.
They said, Yes; the house was Lady Bassett's for a few months. They
were instructed to let it.
"When did she leave? I am her husband, and we have missed each other
somehow."
The clerk interfered, and said Lady Bassett had brought the keys in her
carriage yesterday.
Sir Charles groaned with vexation and annoyance.
"Did she give you no address?"
"Yes, sir. Huntercombe Hall."
"I mean no address in London?"
"No, sir; none."
Sir Charles was now truly perplexed and distressed, and all manner of
strange ideas came into his head. He did not know what to do, but he
could not bear to do nothing, so he drove to the _Times_ office and
advertised, requesting Lady Bassett to send her present address to Mr.
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