I have been to blame.

Only I'd rather pay you this money in some other way." "My way, or none." "Very well, then, I will bring it you as you say." "Mind you do, then," said Mary Wells, and turned haughtily on her heel.
Bassett never ventured to absent himself at the hour, and, at first, the blackmail was delivered and received with scarcely a word; but by-and-by old habits so far revived that some little conversation took place.
Then, after a while, Bassett used to tell her he was unhappy, and she used to reply she was glad of it.
Then he began to speak slightingly of his wife, and say what a fool he had been to marry a poor, silly nonentity, when he might have wedded a beauty.
Mary Wells, being intensely vain, listened with complacency to this, although she replied coldly and harshly.
By-and-by her natural volubility overpowered her, and she talked to Bassett about herself and Huntercombe House, but always with a secret reserve.
Later--such is the force of habit--each used to look forward with satisfaction to the Saturday meeting, although each distrusted and feared the other at bottom.
Later still that came to pass which Mary Wells had planned from the first with deep malice, and that shrewd insight into human nature which many a low woman has--the cooler she was the warmer did Richard Bassett grow, till at last, contrasting his pale, meek little wife with this glowing Hebe, he conceived an unholy liking for the latter.

She met it sometimes with coldness and reproaches, sometimes with affected alarm, sometimes with a half-yielding manner, and so tormented him to her heart's content, and undermined his affection for his wife.

Thus she revenged herself on them both to her heart's content.
But malice so perverse is apt to recoil on itself; and women, in particular, should not undertake a long and subtle revenge of this sort; since the strongest have their hours of weakness, and are surprised into things they never intended.

The subsequent history of Mary Wells will exemplify this.