Mr. William Bassett was a very different man. First he was the
brother-in-law of Sir Thomas FitzHerbert himself; and was entirely of
the proper spirit to mate with that fearless family. He had considerable
estates, both at Langley and Blore, in both of which places he
cheerfully evaded the new laws, maintaining and helping priests in all
directions; a man, in fact, of an ardent and boisterous faith which he
extended (so the report ran) even to magic and astrology; a man of
means, too, in spite of his frequent fines for recusancy, and aged about
fifty years old at this time, with a high colour in his face and bright,
merry eyes. Marjorie had spoken with him once or twice only.
These two men, then, first turned round in their chairs, and then stood
up to salute Marjorie, as she came into the upstairs parlour. It was a
somewhat dark room, panelled where there was space for it between the
books, and with two windows looking out on to the square.
"I thought we should see you soon," said the attorney. "We saw you come,
mistress; and the fellows that cried out on you."
"They had their deserts," said Marjorie, smiling.
Mr. Bassett laughed aloud.
"Indeed they did," he said in his deep, pleasant voice. "There were two
of them with bloody noses before all was done.... You have come for the
news, I suppose, mistress?"
He eyed her genially and approvingly. He had heard a great deal of this
young lady in the last three or four years; and wished there were more
of her kind.
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