“Very likely,” said his aunt. “But I have yet to learn that indigestion can be the cause of death. Go on!”
“She went up to her room, to lie down. Stella found her at lunch-time.”
“Dead?” Mrs Lupton asked on a note of horror. “Yes.”
Mrs Lupton put up a hand to her eyes. “This is terrible!” she announced. “First Gregory, then Harriet! I do not know what to say. I am completely bowled over. My poor sister! I do not seem able to grasp it. Did you say she had a stroke?”
“We think it must have been that,” Mrs Matthews replied. “And I suppose we should be thankful the end was so quick and painless.”
“The end!” Mrs Lupton exclaimed indignantly. “Good heavens, Zoë, you talk as though my unfortunate sister had been a hopeless invalid! She was perfectly healthy! She should have had many years to live!”
Stella blurted out: “There's going to be a post-mortem. Deryk thinks she was poisoned.”
There was a defensive note in her voice, but Mrs Lupton rather surprisingly said after a moment's blank silence: “Rubbish!”
A little sigh broke from Mrs Matthews. She said: “Of course it is rubbish. But it is very, very painful for all of us, none the less.”
“I have no opinion of Dr Fielding,” pronounced Mrs Lupton. “Pray, how does he presume to diagnose a case of poisoning when he was totally unable to detect it in Gregory's death? And who wanted to poison poor Harriet, I should like to know? I am not aware of anyone, except you, Zoë, having the least motive for doing such a thing.”