The other members of the family all attended the Inquest. Even Owen Crewe came, though reluctantly. Agnes, looking brightly cheerful, but speaking in the hushed tones she considered suitable to the occasion, explained audibly to her mother that she had had quite a fight with Owen to get him to come, but had felt that he really ought to, if only to support her.
“I cannot see what the affair has to do with either of us,” said Owen in the disagreeable voice of one dragged unwillingly from his work.
“I suppose you will permit Agnes to feel some concern in her uncle's death?” said Mrs Lupton austerely.
Owen, who never embarked on an argument with his mother-in-law, merely replied: “I can see no reason why I should be called upon to waste an entire morning over it,” and moved away to a seat as far removed from her as possible. When he discovered that Randall was not present he gave a short laugh, and said: “Wise man!” the only effect of which was to make his wife say with unimpaired jollity that Owen was always cross in the mornings.
Mrs Rumbold, beside whom Owen had seated himself, said in a confidential voice: “It is kind of horrid, isn't it? I mean, knowing poor Mr Matthews, and all.”
Owen looked round at her with the instinctive distrust of a shy man accosted by a stranger, and said: “Quite,” in a stiff voice.
Mrs Rumbold smiled dazzlingly. “You don't remember me, do you? Well, I'm sure I don't know why you should! My name's Rumbold. We knew poor Mr Matthews very well. We live next door, you know.”
Owen blushed, and half rose from his seat to shake hands. “Oh, of course! I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm very bad at remembering faces. How do you do? Er—very nice of you to come.”
“Well, we sort of felt we had to,” whispered Mrs Rumbold. “I must say I'm not one for this sort of thing myself, but those two poor old dears wanted Ned—that's my husband—to come, so here we are. Ned doesn't think anything much will happen, though.”
“Nothing at all, I should imagine,” replied Owen, dwelling fondly on the thought of Mrs Matthews' emotions could she but have heard herself described as a poor old dear.