She went to the fire and, stooping down, held the piece of paper over the tongues of shooting flame till he thought her hand must surely be scorched.
She turned on him. "There! It's gone!" she exclaimed. "No one but you, General Lingard, and I, his mother, will ever know that my son wrote that letter. Perhaps I was wrong to have shown it to you. But what you said—but what you said"—she gave a hard, short sob—"hurt me, made me angry. I did not know how else to make you understand. And now, if you say I ought to do what my son asks, I will abide by your decision."
"In your place," he said quietly, "I should certainly carry out your son's wishes."
But as the mother looked into Lingard's fiercely set face, she told herself, with sombre triumph, that her boy was avenged.
At the door he turned and faced her.
"I cannot help wondering," he said in measured tones, "whether you have heard what has happened at Rede Place? Mrs. Maule took an overdose of chloral last night. She was found dead this morning."
Mrs. Kaye was for a moment utterly astounded by the news. Then, quickly gathering herself together, she said in a low dry tone, "I will ask you to believe, General Lingard, that I was ignorant of this—this judgment when I spoke to you just now."
Lingard made no answer; he looked all round him like a man who seeks some way of escape.
Suddenly there came into his view the figure of Jane Oglander, moving patiently up and down on the road beyond the gate.
So she had waited for him....