“Dead? Yes, in some sense of the word, she is dead, I suppose,” muttered Lilith to herself. Then slightly raising her voice she inquired: “Are you sure that she is dead, madame?”
“As sure as I can be of anything in this world. I knew nothing about it until I read what seemed to be a résumé of the whole story in the Pursuivant. Strange how we sometimes read and forget things without having the slightest idea of their significance to us! Some weeks ago I read in the papers that the body of an unknown young woman had been found in the woods on Cave Creek, near Frosthill in West Virginia. I read it without the faintest idea that I, or any one connected with me, could have any interest in that fact. And I had forgotten all about it until I read in the Pursuivant of Tuesday the announcement of Tudor Hereward’s appointment as Secretary of Legation to the Court of ——, and the theory that he had only accepted the appointment in order to seek, by serving his country in foreign lands, some benefit to his health, broken down by grief for the tragic fate of his young wife.”
“Merciful Heaven!” breathed Lilith to herself.
“And then, my dear,” continued the baroness, unconscious of the interruption, “the whole story was gathered up and rehearsed—how young Mrs. Hereward was missing from her home on the night of the 21st of March, and how no trace of her could be found until about the middle of April, when a body, much decomposed, was discovered in the woods on the banks of Cave Creek, which, after much investigation, contradictory evidence and dispute, was proved beyond all possibility of doubt to be that of Tudor Hereward’s young wife.”
“How very strange!” muttered Lilith.
“Yes—very strange. It must have given Mr. Hereward a great shock, even though he never loved the poor, inane young creature.”
“No; of course, he never loved her!” sighed Lilith.
“How could he love her? He loved me—madly, passionately, idolatrously—at the very time that he married her. Why, I had rejected him only a few hours before he proposed to her! And oh! what a fool she must have been to have accepted a man who had never wooed her—accepted him at his very first word! I am sorry for the poor thing, but you must acknowledge that she was a great idiot, and in no way a fit and proper wife for Tudor Hereward.”
“I do acknowledge it; but—but perhaps she loved him,” meekly suggested Lilith.
“That does not excuse her for snatching at a man’s first offer.”