Imagination conjured pictures proper to the scene: a goddess at her toilet; that glorious hair lying tumbled on the pillow, and burning in contrasted color with the snowy sheets and with the purple quilt.
From this reverie he was awakened by a soft voice that said, "How can I ever thank you enough, sir ?" Mr.Angelo controlled himself, and said, "By sending for me whenever I can be of the slightest use." Then, comprehending his danger, he added, hastily, "And I fear I am none whatever now." Then he rose to go.
Lady Bassett gave him both her hands again, and this time he kissed one of them, all in a flurry; he could not resist the temptation.

Then he hurried away, with his whole soul in a tumult.

Lady Bassett blushed, and returned to her husband's side.
Doctor Willis came, heard the case, looked rather grave and puzzled, and wrote the inevitable prescription; for the established theory is that man is cured by drugs alone.
Sir Charles wandered a little while the doctor was there, and continued to wander after he was gone.
Then Mary Wells begged leave to sleep in the dressing-room.
Lady Bassett thanked her, but said she thought it unnecessary; a good night's rest, she hoped, would make a great change in the sufferer.
Mary Wells thought otherwise, and quietly brought her little bed into the dressing-room and laid it on the floor.
Her judgment proved right; Sir Charles was no better the next day, nor the day after.

He brooded for hours at a time, and, when he talked, there was an incoherence in his discourse; above all, he seemed incapable of talking long on any subject without coming back to the fatal one of his childlessness; and, when he did return to this, it was sure to make him either deeply dejected or else violent against Richard Bassett and his son; he swore at them, and said they were waiting for his shoes.
Lady Bassett's anxiety deepened; strange fears came over her.

She put subtle questions to the doctor; he returned obscure answers, and went on prescribing medicines that had no effect.
She looked wistfully into Mary Wells's face, and there she saw her own thoughts reflected.
"Mary," said she, one day, in a low voice, "what do they say in the kitchen ?" "Some say one thing, some another.