"Yes, according to this paragraph. It appears that in some way or another she became possessed of a bottle of laudanum while the nurse was absent. The woman returned to find her patient dead. Poor Mrs. Hilliston!" added Claude, folding up the paper with a sigh. "How sorry I am to hear this."
"I wonder why she committed suicide?" said Tait meditatively. "She looked too determined a woman to yield to such a weakness."
"No doubt she found out that her husband was guilty of the crime," said Larcher grimly, "and so did not care to live longer with a murderer."
"You are wrong, father," observed Claude, looking up; "it was the knowledge that she had lost her looks which killed her. Depend upon it, she took the poison so as to avoid dragging out her days a scarred and miserable object."
"How do you know that, Claude?" asked his father, with a curious look on his face.
"Because not once, but twice, or thrice, Mrs. Hilliston told me she would kill herself rather than grow old and ugly. The loss of beauty came with the smallpox; and so she has carried out her resolve."
"It will be a blow to Hilliston."
"I don't think so," said Captain Larcher rather cynically. "From what I remember of Louisa Sinclair, the love was all on her side. No doubt he married her when she was Mrs. Derrick purely for her money. No! No! I quite believe the story of Mona Bantry. She was and is the woman of his love. Now the wife is dead he can console himself with the mistress."
"That reminds me," observed Claude suddenly. "What are we to do about Jenny? Is she to be informed that her mother is yet alive?"
Captain Larcher shook his head. "Set your mind at rest on that point," he said with a nod. "I told Mrs. Bezel that Jenny was about to become your wife; that she thinks her parents are dead; and I pointed out that it would be unwise to mar the happiness of the girl by letting her know the truth. Mrs. Bezel agrees with me, and she has consented that things shall remain as they are."