With regard to his home life, Sir William, thought Mr Arbuthnot, had been, in his later years at all events, a happy man. He had at the age of thirty married a widow, a Mrs Ethel Dale. It was believed, though Mr Arbuthnot could not vouch for it, that there had been quite a romance about it. According to the generally accepted story, William Ponson, then a clerk in the iron works, and Tom Dale, a traveller for the same concern, had both loved the pretty Ethel Osborne, the daughter of a doctor in the neighbourhood. Dale was outwardly a rather fascinating personality, good looking, always well dressed, and with attractive manners, though at heart he was a rotter. But the serious and somewhat pompous young Ponson had failed to bring his more sterling merits into prominence, with the result that the lady had preferred his rival. She married Dale, and regretted it from the first evening, when he returned drunk to the small seaside hotel at which they were spending their honeymoon. Things went rapidly from bad to worse. Dale continued drinking, they got into debt, and Ethel began to fear her husband’s dismissal, and consequent poverty. Then, after some three years of unhappiness, Dale was sent to Canada on the business of the firm. He sailed on the _Numidian_, but off Newfoundland the ship struck an iceberg, and turning turtle, went to the bottom in thirteen minutes. There was an appalling casualty list, but to Mrs Dale it meant release, for her husband’s name was among the drowned. The lady was left in absolute destitution. Ponson managed to help her anonymously, then after a couple of years he renewed his suit, and some time later she capitulated and they were married. There had been no children to her previous marriage, but now Austin and Enid Ponson were born. The two children were very different in disposition. While Enid, sweet-tempered and charming, was beloved by all, and was her father’s life and soul, Austin was somewhat difficult. When first he went to a boarding school, it was a relief to all at home. From Rugby he progressed to Cambridge, then, as the Inspector had already learnt, he threw up his studies there and devoted himself to social and entomological subjects. He had gone back at this time to his father’s house at Gateshead, but the two rubbed each other up the wrong way, and Sir William, making his son a handsome allowance, advised him to live elsewhere. Austin had then taken the villa at Halford, amid surroundings suitable to the pursuit of his hobbies.