However, it was a temptation to be near Richard Bassett; so she accepted at last.

Unable to write, she could not consult him; and she made sure he would be delighted.
But when she got into the village the prudent Mr.Bassett drew in his horns, and avoided her.

She was mortified and very angry.

She revenged herself on her employer; broke double her wages.

The vicar had never been able to convert a smasher; so he parted with her very readily to Lady Bassett, with a hint that she was rather unfortunate in glass and china.
In that large house her spirits rose, and, having a hearty manner and a clapper tongue, she became a general favorite.
One day she met Mr.Bassett in the village, and he seemed delighted at the sight of her, and begged her to meet him that night at a certain place where Sir Charles's garden was divided from his own by a ha-ha.
It was a very secluded spot, shut out from view, even in daylight, by the trees and shrubs and the winding nature of the walk that led to it; yet it was scarcely a hundred yards from Huntercombe Hall.
Mary Wells came to the tryst, but in no amorous mood.