Only, how ought she to act herself, so as not to become a particeps criminis; what steps should she take to prevent further wrong? To betray Henry, even if she could have made up her mind to do so, would not bring back poor, murdered Jenny, or the old father who had followed her so quickly to the grave.
But the money which Mr Crampton had left in such good faith to the son of his ‘best friend,’ Wally should not touch it, now or ever. She would not let her innocent child’s hands be stained by the touch of blood money. It must be spent on some other purpose. It should never go to Wally.
Hannah sat and pondered over these puzzles all night, how could she do her duty to her husband and children, and yet not become a participator in his crime—a crime which must, under any circumstances, have caused a great revulsion in her feelings towards him, but when connected with Jenny Crampton, made her feel as if it were impossible for her to live with him again. Yet, if she left him, what depths might he not fall to? The only hope for him seemed to be in her presence and protection.
But, for her children, it was different. At all risks, she would separate her girls, now growing old enough to understand the meaning of most things that took place around them, from so tainted a father! Elsie and Laurie must leave home. Hannah felt as if she could not endure to see him kiss them again, or touch them with the hands that had sent their darling Jenny to her death.
She was not aware that her husband had adopted the fatal practice of inhaling opium. She attributed the strange manner which he occasionally exhibited, to too much alcohol, or the doses of morphia which he said he took for toothache. She would have borne patiently with all that, to whatever lengths he had carried it, but what she had heard was beyond the limits of woman’s forbearance to tolerate. Her duty, perhaps, was to remain by him, but her children should, at all risks, be saved from contamination.
Henry Hindes came down the next morning, looking haggard and stupid and heavy-eyed, after the fashion of men who indulge too much in any sort of narcotic, but he could scarcely have looked worse than Hannah, who was as white as her gown, and trembling with dread of what lay before her.
‘Henry,’ she said, as soon as their breakfast was concluded, ‘I wish to speak to you. Will you come into the library?’
‘What’s up now?’ he grumbled, as he followed his wife’s footsteps.
‘I will soon tell you. I have come to the conclusion that it will be better for my daughters to leave home. I intend to take them over to my old friend, Mrs Tredgold, this afternoon, and leave them with her for their education.’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ exclaimed Henry Hindes. ‘Send the girls away! Are you mad?’