Gossip is not dead at Huntercombe, I
dare say."
Nurse's black eyes flashed. "All the village will be out. I hope _he_
will see us ride in, the black-hearted villain!"
Sir Charles was too proud to let her draw him into that topic; he went
about his business.
Lady Bassett's carriage, duly packed, came round, and Lady Bassett was
ready soon afterward; so was Mrs. Millar; so was baby, imbedded now in
a nest of lawn and lace and white fur. They had to wait for nurse. Lady
Bassett explained _sotto voce_ to her husband, "Just at the last moment
she was seized with a desire to wear a silk gown I gave her. I argued
with her, but she only pouted. I was afraid for baby. It is very hard
upon _you,_ dear."
Her face and voice were so piteous that Sir Charles burst out laughing.
"We must take the bitter along with the sweet. Don't you think the
sweet rather predominates at present?"
Lady Bassett explored his face with all her eyes. "My darling is happy
now; trifles cannot put him out."
"I doubt if anything could shake me while I have you and our child. As
for that jade keeping us all waiting while she dons silk attire, it is
simply delicious. I wish Rolfe was here, that is all. Ha! ha! ha!"
Mrs. Gosport appeared at last in a purple silk gown, and marched to the
carriage without the slightest sign of the discomfort she really felt;
but that was no wonder, belonging, as she did, to a sex which can walk
not only smiling but jauntily, though dead lame on stilts, as you may
see any day in Regent Street.
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