When Sir Charles told Lady Bassett all this, with a face of agony, and
a broken voice, her heart almost burst: she threw every other
consideration to the winds.
"Charles," she cried, "I can't bear it: I can't see your heart wrung
any more, and your affections blighted. Tear that young viper out of
your breast: don't go on wasting your heart's blood on a stranger; HE
IS NOT YOUR SON."
CHAPTER XXXIX.
AT this monstrous declaration, from the very lips of the man's wife,
there was a dead silence, Sir Charles being struck dumb, and Lady
Bassett herself terrified at the sound of the words she had uttered.
After a terrible pause, Sir Charles fixed his eyes on her, with an
awful look, and said, very slowly, "Will--you--have--the--goodness--
to--say that again? but first think what you are saying."
This made Lady Bassett shake in every limb; indeed the very flesh of
her body quivered. Yet she persisted, but in a tone that of itself
showed how fast her courage was oozing. She faltered out, almost
inaudibly, "I say you must waste no more love on him--he is not your
son."
Sir Charles looked at her to see if she was in her senses: it was not
the first time he had suspected her of being deranged on this one
subject. But no: she was pale as death, she was cringing, wincing,
quivering, and her eyes roving to and fro; a picture not of frenzy, but
of guilt unhardened.
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