‘Yes. It is true. After I left you that evening, I found your persuasions and arguments had taken such hold upon my mind that I resolved to go on to this man’s dwelling at once and tell him he had nothing to fear from me.’
‘Oh, Fred, how good of you!’ cried the girl, with tears in her eyes.
‘I did so, therefore, and saw the man’s wife, whom I found knew the whole story, and thought I had come to accuse her husband openly of the murder. I set her mind at rest on the subject, and she told me he had determined to leave England the following day. He had retired to rest, so I did not attempt to disturb him, knowing his wife would tell him everything. The next day I received a letter from her to say that, on going up to her husband’s room to communicate the news to him, she found him lying dead on the same bed as his little child. She tried to make out his was an ordinary sudden death, but, at the coroner’s inquest that followed, I see they brought it in as suicide. Undoubtedly, the poor wretch had taken poison under the fear of detection. I had heard he was greatly addicted to the use of morphia. Remorse had driven him out of his mind.’
‘And the poor wife and children—what will become of them?’ asked Rhoda.
‘They have plenty of this world’s goods, child, with which to make themselves comfortable, and the peace of mind, let us hope, will come with time. She has a very kind brother and sister-in-law, who flew to her directly they heard the news of her husband’s death, and they will doubtless be her firm friends in the future. And she has three children, Rhoda, to look to for comfort. I am very glad of it, for she is a good woman and wife and mother, and, I am told, believed in him to the last.’
‘Poor lady,’ sighed Rhoda, ‘how sad for her to find him worthless of her regard. The worst thing we can be called upon to bear is, to find our love has been thrown away.’
‘As you threw yours away on me, Rhoda.’
‘No, I didn’t mean that,’ she answered, colouring. ‘I shouldn’t have said it before you if I had.’
‘But I mean it, Rhoda. I have been a scoundrel to you. I never saw it more plainly than I do to-day, to find you hard at work, with this child crawling at your feet.’
‘Don’t speak of it, Fred, please. It is past. Let the subject be tabooed between us. What are your plans? Tell me what you intend to do?’