“So,” said she, in a scarce audible voice, “darling mamma died of a broken heart?”
Miss Plympton, said nothing. A long silence followed.
“Had my father no friends,” asked Edith, “or no relatives?”
“He had no relatives,” said Miss Plympton, “but an only sister. She married a Captain Dudleigh, now Sir Lionel Dudleigh. But it was a very unhappy marriage, for they separated. I never knew the cause; and Captain Dudleigh took it so much to heart that he went abroad. He could not have heard of your father's misfortunes till all was over and it was too late. But in any case I do not see what he could have done, unless he had contrived to shake your father's resolve. As to his wife, I have never heard of her movements, and I think she must have died long ago. Neither she nor her husband is mentioned at the trial. If they had been in England, it seems to me that they would have come forward as witnesses in some way; so I think they were both out of the country. Sir Lionel is alive yet, I think, but he has always lived out of the world. I believe his family troubles destroyed his happiness, and made him somewhat misanthropical. I have sometimes thought in former years that he might make inquiries about you, but he has never done so to my knowledge, though perhaps he has tried without being able to hear where you were. After all, he would scarcely know where to look. On the whole, I consider Sir Lionel the only friend you have, Edith darling, besides myself, and if any trouble should ever arise, he would be the one to whom I should apply for assistance, or at least advice.”
Edith listened to this, and made no comment, but after another thoughtful pause she said,
“About this Wiggins—have you ever heard any thing of him since the—the trial?”
Miss Plympton shook her head.
“No,” said she, “except from those formal business notes. You have seen them all, and know what they are.”
“Have you ever formed any opinion of him more favorable than what you wrote in those notes?”
“I do not think that I wrote any thing more than suspicions or surmises,” said Miss Plympton; “and as far as suspicions are concerned, I certainly have not changed my mind. The position which he occupied during the trial, and ever since, excites my suspicions against him. All others suffered; he alone was benefited. And now, too, when all is over, he seems still in his old position—perhaps a better one than ever—the agent of the estates, and assuming to some extent a guardianship over you. At least he gives directions about you, for he says you are to go back to Dalton Hall. But in that he shall find himself mistaken, for I will never allow you to put yourself in his power.”