‘Yes, if he had been in the habit of taking laudanum. But he was not.’ ‘How can you know that? Poor Mr. Harefield was so reserved. He lived so much apart from you.’ ‘But if he had taken laudanum habitually somebody would have known of it. Peacock, for instance, who always waited upon him. No, Bella, there was something in that Italian’s visit. I believe my father poisoned himself.’ ‘But why?’ ‘For the last ten years his life has been one long regret. Yes. I am sure of that now. His coldness and unkindness to me were the growth of despair. He told me that he had closed his heart against all human affection ten years ago. That was the time of my mother’s death. And last night those long years of grief culminated in a paroxysm of despair, and in a rash moment--a moment in which he was not responsible for his actions--he threw away his life.’ ‘But how did he come by the poison?’ asked Bella. ‘He must have obtained the poison somehow. That would be a deliberate act--just as deliberate as yours when you went into six different chemists’ shops.’ ‘Why do you look at me like that, Bella?’ inquired Beatrix, struck by something curious in the other’s intent gaze. ‘Do you suppose that I did not tell the truth about the laudanum I bought at Great Yafford?’ ‘I know you told the truth. I was with you in the pony carriage, you know. Don’t you remember my asking the meaning of all those little packages? I was only thinking, just now, that had I been you I don’t think I should have told the coroner about that laudanum.’ ‘Why not? There was no harm in my buying it. I had as much right to buy that as any other medicine.’ ‘Of course, dear. But still I am sorry you told about it.’ ‘Why, in goodness name?’ ‘Because it might make a bad impression upon some people--people who don’t know you as your friends know you. People who think that you and your father lived unhappily together. It might put curious ideas into their heads.’ ‘Bella, what do you mean?’ cried Beatrix, starting up from her chair. ‘Do you mean that there is any creature on this earth so vile in mind and heart as to be capable of believing that I poisoned my father?’ ‘My dear Beatrix, there are people wicked enough to be ready to believe anything evil of those who are richer than themselves.’ ‘I am sorry such a hideous suggestion should come from you, Bella,’ said Beatrix, coldly. Bella saw that she had gone a little too far, and knelt down by her dear Beatrix’s chair, and tried to soothe the irritation her suggestions had caused. Beatrix’s wounded feeling was not easily appeased. ‘If such a thing can enter into the mind of my earliest friend, my old playfellow, what measure of evil am I to expect from strangers?’ she said. ‘My dearest Beatrix, have I been speaking of my own thoughts? I only said I was sorry you mentioned those unfortunate purchases at Yafford.’ ‘I shall never be sorry for having spoken the truth.’ * * * * *