“There are you and Edwina to consider,” I reminded her, and we talked of the effect it could have on Edwina if it was discovered who her father was.

“I have often thought of that,” said Kitty.

“If Edward’s name could be cleared, it would be a great blessing.”

I said to Jefferson: “Lucian and I thought you would know what action ought to be taken in a case like this. I don’t think Lucian will be at peace with himself until he has told what happened.”

“I see what you mean,” said Jefferson.

“And it is true that there are Kitty and Edwina to consider. If this came out, there would be more publicity to contend with, and the case would be brought before the public. Attention would be focused on Kitty, which would be the worst possible thing for Edwina. If we could come up definitely with the one who had killed Grace Marline … someone who confessed … there would, of course, be a great deal of notice then, but it would be well worth it. We should have a conclusion to the case, and Edward Marline’s name would be cleared. Kitty would be beyond suspicion and she need have no fear for Edwina. That would be quite a different matter from a flimsy possibility.”

I told them that I had arranged for Lucian to call the next day.

“I should have asked your permission first, but there was no time, and, believe me, please, he is very distressed. He thinks Jefferson could tell him what has to be done. “

“It will be good to see him,” said Kitty.

“I remember him. He was such a nice boy. You were very fond of him in those days, Carmel.”

“He was always kind to me and a little attention meant a great deal to me at that time.”

“Yes, I know.”

“We shall look forward to seeing him very much.”

“He will arrive in the afternoon on the two o’clock train. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” said Kitty.

Jefferson said: “This is very interesting. I shall enjoy talking to him. In the meantime, I shall brood on this. There may be something we can do. I just feel at the moment that it is all rather suppositious, and I’m wondering whether, if he did reveal what he fears to be his guilt, he might not do more harm than good. However, I always like to think over these matters. We’ll have a long talk tomorrow. That’s always useful. My word, this is getting interesting.”

“What a big pan those opals play, don’t they?” went on Kitty.

“You remember, Carmel. Adeline was looking for them when she pulled out the drawer which resulted in that dreadful scene.”

“Yes, I remember vividly.”

There was a rustle in the bushes. We all turned in that direction from whence it came.

“Some animal,” said Jefferson.

“Perhaps a fox?” suggested Kitty.

“I hardly think so,” said Jefferson.

“We were talking of those opals,” continued Kitty.

“Some people say they are unlucky. I’ve never liked them since. They certainly brought bad luck to Lucian and poor Adeline.”

There was a sudden movement from the bushes and Adeline was running across the lawn to the house.

“It must have been Adeline, not a fox, we heard in the bushes,” said Kitty.

We watched her go into the house.

“She is a strange child,” went on Kitty.

“So absolutely childish at times. Then she will astonish you with her knowledge. Her memory is prodigious. Sometimes she will make a remark about the past which astonishes me. Of course, she did live through that terrible time like the rest of us. It must have left its mark on her.”

“She is so happy to be with you.”

“Oh yes. There is no doubt of that. At first, when she came here, she was really disturbed. All she needs is understanding.”

Then we went back to talking about the great problem, and I was longing for the time when Lucian would join us.

He arrived in the early afternoon of the next day. Both Kitty and Jefferson greeted him warmly and told him how pleased they were that he had come. Jefferson said right away that I had explained his problem to them and he was looking forward to discussing it.

Adeline cried out when she saw him: “It’s Lucian! Lucian, I’m Adeline.

Do you remember me? “

Lucian said that he did and was gratified that she remembered him.

“You’re bigger,” she said.

“A lot bigger.”

“You haven’t changed much.”

She smiled to herself.

It was not long before Kitty contrived for the four of us to be alone together, and we sat under the same tree where we were yesterday, and we were soon in deep discussion.

Jefferson listened intently to Lucian’s version of the incident, and when he came to the conclusion, he told them that he had made up his mind that he must confess and he wanted Jefferson to tell him how it should be done.

Jefferson waved his hand, then said he was not sure that it would be wise. He then set forth his reasons and brought forth the points he had made to Kitty and me yesterday. It was not good enough, he said, to say that Grace Marline had died because the pills had been mixed. We had to think of the publicity there would be if this new theory was put forth, and it was by no means conclusive.

Lucian listened with great attention. There might have been a difference in the pills. He could not remember. His one objective had been to get them back into the bottles.

“The more I think of it, the less I like of this idea of making it known,” said Jefferson.

“Then I must go through my life not knowing whether I was responsible for that woman’s death,” said Lucian.

“A crime for which her husband went to the gallows.”

“You would do that in any case,” Jefferson pointed out.

“For how does your confession alter the fact that it can only be a possibility? In fact, it is only just remotely possible that she died because the pills were mixed. You must not blame yourself. You had no intention of doing anyone any harm.”

I was watching Lucian closely. I should have to make sure he did not go on blaming himself. But I knew it would always be there . to haunt us until the end of our lives.

He thanked Kitty and Jefferson for taking such an interest in what Jefferson called his dilemma.

“It is ours, too,” said Kitty.

She was right. How strange it was that we were all caught up in this tragedy. It had affected the lives of every one of us and it seemed as though it could go on doing so for the rest of our lives. We could not escape from the tragic consequences of the events of yesterday.

Kitty said that Lucian must stay the night. The train service was not ideal and they had another spare room which Annie could easily make up. It was no trouble at all. They enjoyed his company. There was so much to talk of, and talking helped in cases like this. That was when ideas came and they could be studied from all points of view. That, said Jefferson, was the way to arrive at the right solution.

So Lucian stayed.

He and I went for a walk in the evening. It had been Kitty’s suggestion. She was aware of our feelings for each other and she guessed we should like to be alone.

Lucian and I walked down to the village and then beyond. I slipped my arm through his and he pressed it against him.

“It is good to be here with you,” he said.

“I couldn’t wait to get here. What delightful, interesting people they are.”

“You look better already,” I told him.

“I should have talked to you before.”

“It is they who have lifted your spirits. You do feel better now, I know. You realize that it is as Jefferson says-just a possibility.

There was nothing you could have done. “

“I’m not sure.”

“But you can see what they mean about the publicity it would raise.”

“It might clear his name.”

“Only if it proved to be true, and how could anyone ever be sure of that? Jefferson is right. It would only bring the case to the fore again. Most people will have forgotten the Marline case by now. Oh, Lucian, don’t you see? We have to leave it. It would only revive it all, and then not many would believe that it was because the pills were mixed. Don’t you see? We can do nothing. We have to forget. In any case, it was an accident. If you could have told what had happened before Dr. Marline died, it would have been different. But you can’t bring back yesterday. It has to be forgotten.”

“I don’t think I can forget that I may have caused the death of two people-and one of them hanged for the murder of the other.”

“You will forget, Lucian, because I am going to make you.”

“You will take that on, then?”

“Most joyfully.”

“A little while ago you were so uncertain.”

“I am no longer so.”

“You have changed suddenly.”

“I don’t altogether understand myself. You were the one I always loved since you found my pendant, took me to tea with the others and repaired the clasp of the chain. I remember every minute of that day.”

“It was nothing much. What about Lawrence Emmerson’s gallant rescue at Suez?”

“It must have been something more than the lost pendant. Of course it was. You have changed everything for me. When my father died, I thought I should never be happy again. You showed me that I can be.

Perhaps that’s it. You ask me why I changed so suddenly. I think it was when I saw you so unhappy with this great burden. You seemed young then not the grand fellow I used to think you. You needed help. Oh, I suppose there are a hundred reasons why one suddenly knows one is in love. “

“Carmel, I know too that I can be happy. I believe I can forget this thing. In any case, I can convince myself that it was an accident and there is nothing I can do about it now. It was the best thing that could have happened when you decided to get in touch with Kitty. I suppose I shall have my dark moments when the sense of guilt overcomes me, but you will be there, Carmel. I have to keep reminding myself of that. You will be there.”

“I shall be there,” I repeated.

“We shall be together.”

“Then we should plan to marry … soon.”

“What will your mother say?”

“She will say. Glory Be! For some time she has wanted me to marry. She is the sort of woman who would like to have a hand in choosing her son’s bride, and I have been receiving hints for some time that she has chosen you for that questionable honour.”

“Don’t laugh at it. It is an honour and I want it more than anything.”

“When, then?”

“I think we should discuss that with your mother.”

“I shall talk to her as soon as I return, and next weekend you must come down so that plans can go ahead.”

I was happy, as I had thought I should never be again. I would go on mourning Toby all my life, and Lucian would remember that, because of an accident, he might have been responsible for the death of two people. That could not be changed. But we had each other. He would comfort me for my loss and I would be beside him when his fears were with him.

We should be happy. We would build our lives together. We knew what we wanted and we were going to do all in our power to attain it.

When we returned there was some consternation in the house. Adeline was agitated. She was saying: “It is dangerous. People could fall over. You know what happened to that lady at Garston Towers.”

“That was different,” soothed Kitty.

“That was the castle ramparts.”

She turned to me.

“It’s nothing much. One of the stakes on the balcony has worked loose. Adeline has only just noticed it.”

She smiled at me, her eyebrows raised to imply that Adeline could be unnecessarily excited over such things.

She went on: “Tom from the stables will be coming over at any minute.

He’ll soon fix it. “

“Shall I look at it?” asked Lucian.

“No need to bother,” replied Kitty.

“Oh, I’ll have a look.”

We went up to my room. The balcony in question was the one shared by Adeline and me.

“Where is it?” said Lucian.

“Oh, I see.” He knelt and examined the faulty stake. It moved as he touched it.

“Tom can usually fix these things,” said Kitty.

“It’s dangerous,” cried Adeline.

“People could fall over. There was that lady at Garston Towers.”

I heard Edwina calling Adeline, who seemed to forget the stake and went off to her.

Kitty said: “Adeline gets disturbed about things that make an impression on her. The Garston Towers affair really caught her imagination. She often refers to it. Tom will soon mend that thing.