“Oh, poor Christabel,” I said, “my sister. I know how you must have suffered.”

“I realized that there could be no happiness for me if I did not tell and yet I could not bear Thomas to know. He loved me so much. He had put me on a pedestal. I was so happy with him. That was why I had to kill this evil man. And when I had done it, there was some recompense I could make. I could give Thomas a child and I would die doing it.”

“You are not going to die,” I said.

“How can I live in peace with murder on my soul?”

“He is dead now,” said Leigh. “He deserved to die. Why should anyone ever know? He lies there on our land. No one will mourn him.”

“Murder is murder,” she said. “‘Thou shalt not kill.’ I am going to die. I know I am. I know I should. My child will live, though, and my love for Thomas will live. He will visit my grave and lay flowers on it and he will say, ‘She was a good wife to me.’ And my children will comfort him, and you two must comfort each other.”

She was smiling, and although there was death in her face there was radiance too. It was as though she had been lost for a long time and had suddenly found her way to peace.

Before the week was out she was dead.

Leigh and I came back to the Dower House. We did not speak. There was a great understanding between us. We knew that we were at the beginning of a new life together and that it would be good.