‘We were not happy together while he was living,’ she said, ‘but I will not desert him now he is dead.’ And then she relapsed into a state of seeming apathy, from which Mrs. Dulcimer found it impossible to rouse her. Bella was there, looking pale and scared, but ready to be useful if she were required. By and by, failing in all attempts at consolation, Mrs. Dulcimer went downstairs to talk this sad business over with the housekeeper and Mr. Scratchell, who had appeared upon the scene as legal representative of the deceased, and had already busied himself in a semi-official manner in locking up papers and setting seals on desks and cabinets in the library. From the butler and housekeeper Mrs. Dulcimer heard details which she had not heard from Cyril Culverhouse. She was told all about the mysterious visitor of the previous night. ‘I believe he was one of Mrs. Harefield’s Italian friends,’ said the butler. ‘There was something familiar about his face. I could as good as swear I’ve seen him times and often before last night.’ ‘As good as swearing won’t do,’ said Mr. Scratchell, with professional severity. ‘Unless you are prepared to make a direct statement upon oath you had better say nothing, about your impressions and recollections before the coroner by and by.’ ‘The coroner!’ cried Mrs. Dulcimer, with a look of horror. ‘What has the coroner to do with it?’ ‘Why, my dear madam, as Mr. Harefield’s death is both sudden and mysterious, there will naturally be an inquest. The notices have been sent round to the jury already, I believe, and the inquiry will be held here this afternoon. To-morrow being Christmas Day, you see, allows of no time being lost.’ ‘Oh, this is too dreadful!’ exclaimed Mrs. Dulcimer; ‘that poor girl, without a single relation, in a house of death, under such fearful circumstances. I must get her away.’ ‘I would strongly recommend you to do nothing of the kind. Miss Harefield had better stop here. She will be wanted as a witness, for it was she who discovered her father’s death. Her leaving the house might create a scandal. She need not be alone. Bella can stay with her.’ ‘Poor girl,’ sighed Mrs. Dulcimer. ‘What a position!’ And then, the ruling passion still dominant in her mind, she thought of Sir Kenrick Culverhouse, and what an opportunity this time of trouble might afford for the ripening of friendship into love. It was a time in which a young woman would naturally lean upon a masculine mind for support and guidance, in which words of comfort would sound stronger from masculine lips. ‘If Kenrick were only here to-day,’ thought Mrs. Dulcimer. And then she remembered that Sir Kenrick had given her a half-promise that he would come back to Yorkshire in time to eat his Christmas dinner at the Vicarage. CHAPTER III. BEFORE THE CORONER.