"The fact is she hasn't been in a good state of health for some time. Margaret has spoken to me about it and a lot of people have remarked upon it. Her peculiarities seemed to grow upon her lately. And she was not an easy person to deal with—in some ways very like our poor friend her father. Margaret hasn't said much to me, but I fancy she's found her sister's temper a little trying. Health, I dare say, as much as anything. Norbiton has been treating her for sleeplessness and general debility—nerves, you know. She always was highly strung. Yesterday morning, they tell me, she looked appallingly ill and complained of having fainted in the night. They had Norbiton in, and he sounded her—was not at all satisfied with the heart's action. I am not surprised at that. You remember how peculiar her eyes were—globular—"
Challoner looked down with rich enjoyment at the "pop-eyes," so he gracefully phrased it, staring eagerly, angrily up from beneath the streaming umbrella.
"Globular," he repeated; "and with that pale circle round the edge of the iris, which invariably, in my experience, indicates a weak heart. Norbiton prescribed for her, and told her to keep quiet. Margaret, poor, dear girl, did her best; but Joanna insisted on driving out. I was dining there last night, and she didn't come down. They told me Norbiton's opinion, but I supposed it was just a case for care. And then, when her maid went to call her this morning, she found her stone cold. She must have been dead several hours—died in her sleep."
And both men stood silent, awed in spite of themselves, by the thought of Joanna Smyrthwaite lying dead.
"Shocking occurrence, very shocking indeed!" Colonel Haig remarked presently, fussily clearing his throat. "You say peculiarities had grown upon poor Miss Smyrthwaite recently. One would be glad to know why—to have some clue to the reason for that. There were rumors, I believe, a few months back of an—er—of an attachment on her part, which—it is a delicate subject to approach—was, in fact, rather misplaced. And—well—you know, one cannot help putting two and two together."
"Oh, as to anything of that sort," Challoner returned somewhat roughly, throwing his big body back from the hips and moving a step aside, as though to conceal justifiable annoyance,—"you really must excuse me, Colonel. Standing in the relation I do to both the Smyrthwaite ladies, it is a subject I hardly care to discuss. I can't help knowing a good deal, and I can't help what I've noticed; but I don't feel at liberty to speak. Mr. Savage stayed twice at the Tower House this year, as you are aware; and—people have eyes in their heads. I don't mind telling you, he and I came to loggerheads over the division of the property. That's what first really brought Margaret and me together. I had to protect her interests, or she would have come off a very bad second. And, though it's early days to mention it, I don't mind telling you in confidence—the strictest confidence, you understand, Colonel—"
"You know by this time, I hope, Challoner, how entirely you can trust me?" the other remonstrated, at once famished for further information and bristling with offended dignity.
"To be sure I do.—Well, then, it may interest you to hear that Margaret has the old home secured to her. I am pleased on her account, for she's fond of the place. Personally, there are several houses in Baughurst Park I prefer. However, that's neither here nor there. If she's pleased I'm pleased, naturally. But, exclusive of the house and its contents, she hardly benefits at all under her sister's will."
In his excitement Rentoul Haig lost control of his umbrella, which, tilting in a gust of wind, discharged a small cataract of water down the back of his neck.
"Bless my soul," he exclaimed, "you don't say so! What ungodly weather! Where on earth does all her money go to?"