was not entirely true, and certainly not true in its implication. He was deeply distressed about it, and I think a great deal of his guilt has come to rest upon me also. I began to consider what I knew of the affair. Up until then, my husband had never discussed it with me-indeed, Benita was in the same circumstance-but I realized it was time I stopped hiding behind the convention that women are the weaker sex, and should not be asked even to know of such things, far less inquire into them. That is the most arrant nonsense! If we are fit to conceive children, to bear and to raise them, to nurse the sick and prepare the dead, we can certainly endure the truth about our sons and daughters, or about our husbands.'
She hesitated, but Charlotte kept her word and did not interrupt. There was no sound but the fire in the grate and the soft patter of rain on the window.
'Maurice Jerome did not kill Arthur,' Callantha went on. 'Therefore someone else must have-and since Arthur had had a relationship of that nature, that also must'have been with someone else. I spoke to Titus and to Fanny, quite closely, and I forbade them to lie. It is time for the truth, however unpleasant it may be. Lies will all be found out in the end, and the truth will be the worse for having been festering in our consciences and begetting more lies and more fears until then. I have seen what it has done to Titus already. The poor child cannot carry the weight alone any longer. He will grow to feel he is guilty of some complicity in Mr. Jerome's death. Heaven knows, Je- , rome is not a very pleasant man, but he does not deserve to be hanged. Titus awoke the other night, having dreamed of hanging. I heard his cry and went to him. I cannot let him suffer like that, with his sleep haunted by visions of guilt and death.' Her ' face was very white, but she did not hesitate.
'So I began to wonder, if it was not Jerome, then with whom did Arthur have this dreadful relationship? As I told you, I asked Titus many questions. And I also asked Benita. The further we progressed in our discoveries, the more did we find that one single fear became clearer in our minds. It was Benita who spoke it at last. It will do you no good'-she turned to look at
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Charlotte-'because I do not think there is any way you will ever be able to prove it, but I believe it was my cousin Esmond Vanderley who was Arthur's seducer. Esmond has never married, and so of course he has no children of his own. We have always considered it most natural that he should be extremely fond of his nephews, and spend some time with them, the more with Arthur because he was the eldest. Neither Benita nor I saw anything amiss-thoughts of a physical relationship of that nature between a man and a boy did not enter our minds. But now, with knowledge, I look back and I understand a great deal that passed by me then. I can even recall Esmond having a course of medical treatment recently, medicine he was obliged to take which he did not discuss and which Mortimer would not tell me of. Both Benita and I were concerned, because Esmond appeared so worried and short in temper. He said it was a complaint of the circulation, but when I asked Mortimer, he said it was of the stomach. When Benita asked the family doctor, he said Esmond had not consulted him at all.
'Of course, you will never be able to prove that either, because even if you were to find the doctor concerned-and I have no idea who he might be-doctors do not allow anyone else to know what is in their records, which is perfectly proper.
'I'm sorry.' She stopped quite suddenly.
Charlotte was stunned. It was an answer-it was probably even the truth-and it was no use at all. Even if they could prove that Vanderley had spent a lot of time with Arthur, that was perfectly natural. No one could be found who had seen Arthur the night he was killed; they had already looked, long and pointlessly. And they did not know which doctor had seen Vanderley when the symptoms of his disease had first appeared, only that it was not the family doctor, and either Swynford did not know wh'at it was or he knew and had lied-probably the former. It was a disease that aped many others, and its symptoms, after the initial eruptions, frequently lay dormant for years, even decades. There was amelioration, but no cure.
The only thing they might possibly do would be to find proof of some other relationship he had had, and thus show that he was homosexual. But since Jerome had been found guilty and
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condemned by the court, Pitt could not investigate Vanderley's private life. He had no reason.
Callantha was right; there was nothing they could do. It was not even worth telling Eugenie Jerome that her husband was^in-nocent, because she had never believed him to be anything else.
'Thank you,' Charlotte said quietly, standing up. 'That must have been extremely difficult for you, and for Lady Way-bourne. I am grateful for your honesty. It is something to know the truth.'
'Even when it is too late? Jerome will
