Mrs. Darling conducted him into a prettily furnished library and invited him to be seated. Taking an opposite chair, she then said gravely:
“I will take as little as possible of your valuable time. I will tell you with few and simple words, Mr. Carter, why I have sent for you.”
“Cover all of the ground, Mrs. Darling,” Nick suggested. “My time just now is at your disposal.”
“Thank you,” she replied, bowing. “I will in that case begin at the beginning. I was married eight years ago to Mr. Cyrus Darling, a New York tobacco dealer, a man whom I have always supposed had considerable means, though he has never informed me definitely. He owned this place, however, and we have always lived well, and he has provided for me generously.”
“Mr. Darling is not living?”
“No. I will explain presently.”
“Continue.”
“I was nearly twenty years younger than he, Mr. Carter, but our married life was a uniformly happy one, though not as gay and festive as he perhaps would have preferred. I am inclined to be domestic, while he was of a volatile nature, having neither a strong or stable character. I frankly admit, Mr. Carter, that he was subservient to my will and wishes.”
“I understand you,” said Nick.
“I have no children, and I keep only two servants, aside from a chauffeur, whom I occasionally employ,” Mrs. Darling continued. “My husband’s habits were good, as the world goes, and I noticed nothing unusual in his conduct until about three months ago.”