Chapter 4
1015 Words
In Venice he met his brother, Lord Surbiton, who happened to have
come over from Corfu in his yacht. The two young men spent a
delightful fortnight together. In the morning they rode on the
Lido, or glided up and down the green canals in their long black
gondola; in the afternoon they usually entertained visitors on the
yacht; and in the evening they dined at Florian's, and smoked
innumerable cigarettes on the Piazza. Yet somehow Lord Arthur was
not happy. Every day he studied the obituary column in the Times,
expecting to see a notice of Lady Clementina's death, but every day
he was disappointed. He began to be afraid that some accident had
happened to her, and often regretted that he had prevented her
taking the aconitine when she had been so anxious to try its effect.
Sybil's letters, too, though full of love, and trust, and
tenderness, were often very sad in their tone, and sometimes he used
to think that he was parted from her for ever.
After a fortnight Lord Surbiton got bored with Venice, and
determined to run down the coast to Ravenna, as he heard that there
was some capital c**k-shooting in the Pinetum. Lord Arthur at first
refused absolutely to come, but Surbiton, of whom he was extremely
fond, finally persuaded him that if he stayed at Danieli's by
himself he would be moped to death, and on the morning of the 15th
they started, with a strong nor'-east wind blowing, and a rather
choppy sea. The sport was excellent, and the free, open-air life
brought the colour back to Lord Arthur's cheek, but about the 22nd
he became anxious about Lady Clementina, and, in spite of Surbiton's
remonstrances, came back to Venice by train.
As he stepped out of his gondola on to the hotel steps, the
proprietor came forward to meet him with a sheaf of telegrams. Lord
Arthur snatched them out of his hand, and tore them open.
Everything had been successful. Lady Clementina had died quite
suddenly on the night of the 17th!
His first thought was for Sybil, and he sent her off a telegram
announcing his immediate return to London. He then ordered his
valet to pack his things for the night mail, sent his gondoliers
about five times their proper fare, and ran up to his sitting-room
with a light step and a buoyant heart. There he found three letters
waiting for him. One was from Sybil herself, full of sympathy and
condolence. The others were from his mother, and from Lady
Clementina's solicitor. It seemed that the old lady had dined with
the Duchess that very night, had delighted every one by her wit and
esprit, but had gone home somewhat early, complaining of heartburn.
In the morning she was found dead in her bed, having apparently
suffered no pain. Sir Mathew Reid had been sent for at once, but,
of course, there was nothing to be done, and she was to be buried on
the 22nd at Beauchamp Chalcote. A few days before she died she had
made her will, and left Lord Arthur her little house in Curzon
Street, and all her furniture, personal effects, and pictures, with
the exception of her collection of miniatures, which was to go to
her sister, Lady Margaret Rufford, and her amethyst necklace, which
Sybil Merton was to have. The property was not of much value; but
Mr. Mansfield, the solicitor, was extremely anxious for Lord Arthur
to return at once, if possible, as there were a great many bills to
be paid, and Lady Clementina had never kept any regular accounts.
Lord Arthur was very much touched by Lady Clementina's kind
remembrance of him, and felt that Mr. Podgers had a great deal to
answer for. His love of Sybil, however, dominated every other
emotion, and the consciousness that he had done his duty gave him
peace and comfort. When he arrived at Charing Cross, he felt
perfectly happy.
The Mertons received him very kindly. Sybil made him promise that
he would never again allow anything to come between them, and the
marriage was fixed for the 7th June. Life seemed to him once more
bright and beautiful, and all his old gladness came back to him
again.
One day, however, as he was going over the house in Curzon Street,
in company with Lady Clementina's solicitor and Sybil herself,
burning packages of faded letters, and turning out drawers of odd
rubbish, the young girl suddenly gave a little cry of delight.
'What have you found, Sybil?' said Lord Arthur, looking up from his
work, and smiling.
'This lovely little silver bonbonniere, Arthur. Isn't it quaint and
Dutch? Do give it to me! I know amethysts won't become me till I
am over eighty.'
It was the box that had held the aconitine.
Lord Arthur started, and a faint blush came into his cheek. He had
almost entirely forgotten what he had done, and it seemed to him a
curious coincidence that Sybil, for whose sake he had gone through
all that terrible anxiety, should have been the first to remind him
of it.
'Of course you can have it, Sybil. I gave it to poor Lady Clem
myself.'
'Oh! thank you, Arthur; and may I have the bonbon too? I had no
notion that Lady Clementina liked sweets. I thought she was far too
intellectual.'
Lord Arthur grew deadly pale, and a horrible idea crossed his mind.
'Bonbon, Sybil? What do you mean?' he said in a slow, hoarse voice.
'There is one in it, that is all. It looks quite old and dusty, and
I have not the slightest intention of eating it. What is the
matter, Arthur? How white you look!'
Lord Arthur rushed across the room, and seized the box. Inside it
was the amber-coloured capsule, with its poison-bubble. Lady
Clementina had died a natural death after all!
The shock of the discovery was almost too much for him. He flung
the capsule into the fire, and sank on the sofa with a cry of
despair.
- Writer
