"The man who was shot at St. Nectan's Kieve last year. You must have heard the story."
"Yes; Mr. St. Aubyn told me about it. And this Mr. Hamleigh had been engaged to Mrs. Tregonell? Odd that he should be staying in this house!"
"Wasn't it? One of those odd things that Leonard Tregonell is fond of doing. He was always eccentric."
"And during this visit was there anything—the best of women are mortal—was there anything in the way of a flirtation going on between Mrs. Tregonell and her former sweetheart?"
"Not a shadow of impropriety," answered Mopsy heartily. "She behaved perfectly. I knew the story from my brother, and couldn't help watching them—there was nothing underhand—not the faintest indication of a secret understanding between them."
"And Mr. Tregonell was not jealous?"
"I cannot say; but I am sure he had no cause."
"I suppose Mrs. Tregonell was deeply affected by Mr. Hamleigh's death?"
"I hardly know. She seemed wonderfully calm; but as we left almost immediately after the accident I had not much opportunity of judging."
"A sad business. A lovely woman married to a man she does not care for—and really if I were not a visitor under his roof I should be tempted to say that in my opinion no woman in her senses could care for Mr. Tregonell. But I suppose after all practical considerations had something to do with the match. Tregonell is lord of half-a-dozen manors—and the lady hadn't a sixpence. Was that it?"