‘Well, he ought to have some friend by him now, if all they tell me is true, for the shock seems to have unsettled his mind. The inquiry won’t be till three o’clock to-morrow afternoon, sir, at the ‘Bottle and Spurs’ public-house, where the poor lady lies. If you’re there, sir, they’ll get it over at once, but if so be as you’re not there, the jury will have to be called to attend another day.’
‘I shall be there,’ replied Henry Hindes, and then he went upstairs again and replaced the vial in the drawer before he rejoined his wife. ‘Only a notice to attend this miserable inquest, my dear,’ he said in explanation as he threw himself on a couch and buried his face in his hands.
‘Oh, Henry, how much I wish it were not necessary for you to go! I know how bitterly you will feel it! To have to be questioned by a man who cares nothing for our poor dear darling, and who will rake up all sorts of things to wound you and make the remembrance still more bitter than it is; but it is your duty, and you must go! Shall you see her, Harry?’ she added, in a whisper.
Her husband shuddered.
‘I suppose so! That is, if I must!’
‘But you wouldn’t like our sweet Jenny to go to her grave without a last look, dear, I am sure! And may I send some flowers to put over her? Will you take them from me?’
‘No! no! for God’s sake, no!’ cried Hindes, covering his face again; ‘I cannot enter into all these harrowing details like women can. I shall go down and come away again as quickly as possible; the sight of the poor child would kill me! I have no morbid inclination for gazing at corpses, Hannah.’
‘But our poor Jenny,’ said his wife, regretfully; ‘it would seem to me like refusing to look at Elsie or Laurie if they were taken from us. Thank God they are not. Oh, poor Mrs Crampton,’ continued Hannah, breaking down again; ‘what must she be feeling at this moment! How I pity her with my whole, whole heart!’
Meanwhile, Philip Walcheren, having heard the news of Jenny’s death from Dr M‘Coll, had hastened to the presence of Father Tasker.
‘A judgment, a judgment, my dear father!’ he exclaimed. ‘I have just heard the most terrible piece of news. Poor, misguided Frederick’s young wife was killed yesterday by a fall over the cliffs at Dover!’