"I don't mind a couple of women," said he, gravely, "but no man shall see Charles Bassett in his present state.

No.
Patience! Patience! I'll wait till Heaven takes pity on me.

After all, it would be a shame that such a race as mine should die out, and these fine estates go to blackguards, and poachers, and anonymous-letter writers." Lady Bassett used to coax him to walk in the corridor; but, even then, he ordered Mary Wells to keep watch and let none of the servants come that way.

From words he let fall it seems he thought "Childlessness" was written on his face, and that it had somehow degraded his features.
Now a wealthy and popular baronet could not thus immure himself for any length of time without exciting curiosity, and setting all manner of rumors afloat.

Visitors poured into Huntercombe to inquire.
Lady Bassett excused herself to many, but some of her own sex she thought it best to encounter.