Patricia shivered. "No, Mrs. Sellars, I really don't see. I am connected with poor Mrs. Pentreddle in a blood way certainly, for if I had not gone out she would have been alive now."
"Well, my dear, you couldn't help going out, since you had to go on the errand, and no one knows better than I do how obstinate Martha was. Well, she's gone, and as soon as they've settled who killed her we must send her to Devonshire."
"To Devonshire?" echoed Patricia, surprised.
"Yes. Didn't I tell you that Squire Colpster, whose housekeeper she was, has come to London? Well, he is in town now, and called to see me to-day. He is very shocked at Martha's death, and intends to take the body back to lay in Beckleigh churchyard near that of her late husband--or, perhaps, I should say, its late husband, although I am not sure that an 'it' can have a husband. It's very kind of the Squire, but the Colpsters were always kind. He is coming to see you this afternoon before the inquest takes place."
"What about?" asked Patricia uneasily.
"He wishes to hear the story from your own lips."
"It is in all the papers; and much of what the papers say is untrue."
"All the better advertisement," said Mrs. Sellars cheerfully. "I'm quite sure, my dear, that your troubles are over. You can marry when you choose."
"I certainly shan't marry those horrid men who have had the impertinence to write to me!" declared Patricia indignantly.
"Oh, I should, if you find one of the men is nice and rich. But if you don't feel inclined to marry, you are at least sufficiently widely known to get a good situation."