“What you expect,” said her husband rather gruffly, “is neither here nor there. What one expects never happens in this life. The only thing of which we may be quite sure is that she won’t have been allowed into the Thatched House. But as to whether she will know that Garlett has been arrested depends on——”
And then as he said the word “on” they heard the front door open and Jean’s steady, quiet voice: “Is Aunt Jenny upstairs, Elsie?” and Elsie’s far more moved tones in answer: “The mistress is with the doctor, Miss Jean, in the dining room.”
Dr. Maclean and his wife stood up—the door opened, and the girl looked from one to the other.
“Harry’s been arrested for the murder of his wife,” she said, “and now we’ve got to arrange for his defence.”
She turned and shut the door behind her.
“I couldn’t help hearing what you said to Elsie before I went out, for I was just coming through the scullery. Was what you wanted to tell me, both of you, anything about Harry?”
And then Mrs. Maclean did a fine thing. She would have given the world to stay where she was, but she told herself that it would be far easier for the girl to endure what had to be said if the two others were alone together, and so, quietly, she left the room.
Jean came over to where the doctor was sitting. And though he still remained silent, she saw his hand make an uncertain movement toward his breast pocket.
“May I see the letter you had this morning? I think I ought to see it, Uncle Jock.”
“Yes,” he said slowly, “I think you ought to see it. And I will go further, my dear, and say you ought to ponder over its contents very carefully.”