But what were the particulars of the murder in Great Porter Square, of which till now she had never heard, and what possible relation could they bear to her? She could not wait for the lawyer; she had placed the matter in his hands, but the issue at stake was too grave for her to sit idly down and make no effort herself to reach the heart of the mystery. That very evening she ascertained that in a certain house, No. 119 Great Porter Square, a cruel murder had been committed, and that the murdered man had not been identified. On the date of this murder she was in the country, endeavouring by quietude to regain her health and peace of mind; her baby at that time was nearly two months old, and for weeks before the date and for weeks afterwards she had not read a newspaper. Now that she learned that the murder might, even by the barest possibility, afford a clue to the mystery in which she was involved, she felt as if it would be criminal in her to sleep until she had made herself fully acquainted with all the details of the dreadful deed. She went from shop to shop, and purchased a number of newspapers containing accounts of the discovery of the murder, and of the accusation brought against Antony Cowlrick. When the lawyer called upon her the following morning he found her deeply engaged in the study of these papers. He made no remark, divining the motive for this painful duty. "I have not closed my eyes all night," she said to him plaintively. "Where is Great Porter Square?" "My dear lady," he replied, "it is not necessary for you to know the locality of this terrible crime. It will not help you to go there. Remain quiet, and leave the matter with me. I have already done something towards the clearing-up of the mystery. Do not agitate yourself needlessly; you will require all your strength." He then asked her if she had a portrait of her husband. She had a photograph, taken at her request the day before their marriage. "Mr. Holdfast was above these small vanities," she said, and suddenly checked herself, crying, "Good God! What did I say? _Was_ above them! _Is_ above them, I mean. He cannot be dead--he cannot, he cannot be dead! I had to persuade him to have the picture taken. It is here--in this locket." She gave her lawyer the locket, and he departed with it. When he called upon her again in the evening, his manner was very grave and sad. "Did your husband make a will?" he asked. "Yes," she replied, "and gave it me in a sealed envelope. I have it upstairs, in a safe, in which I keep my jewels. It is dated on the day on which he forbade his son Frederick ever again to enter his house. Would you like to see it?" "It will be as well," said the lawyer, "for you to place it in my care. I shall not break the seal until the present inquiry is terminated. It will be very soon--very soon. Are you strong enough to hear some bad news, or will you wait till to-morrow? Yes, yes--it will be better to wait till to-morrow. A good night's rest----"