him. I expostulated against the folly of such a proceeding,
saying that no doubt Basil was safe enough but had forgotten to
telegraph, or thought that he would save the sixpence which the
wire cost.

Then it came out, to Natalie's and my intense amusement, that
all this was the result of her jealous nature of which I have
spoken. She said she had never slept a night away from her
husband since they were married and with so many "designing
persons" about she could not say what might happen if she did so,
especially as he was "such a favourite and so handsome." (Bastin
was a fine looking man in his rugged way.)

I suggested that she might have a little confidence in him, to
which she replied darkly that she had no confidence in anybody.

The end of it was that I lent her the cart with a fast horse
and a good driver, and off she went. Reaching the town in
question some two and a half hours later, she searched high and
low through wind and sleet, but found no Basil. He, it appeared,
had gone on to Exeter, to look at the cathedral where some
building was being done, and missing the last train had there
slept the night.

About one in the morning, after being nearly locked up as a mad
woman, she drove back to the Vicarage, again to find no Basil.
Even then she did not go to bed but raged about the house in her
wet clothes, until she fell down utterly exhausted. When her
husband did return on the following morning, full of information
about the cathedral, she was dangerously ill, and actually passed