Part 9 (1/2)

THE SOCIETY TRIAL. FULL REPORT.

VERDICT.

It filled a whole page, and a column besides.

The Squire read steadily; his face, set to a frowning censure, showed gleams of surprise, and every now and then his lips forced an expression of disgust. He was not a rapid reader, and it was half an hour before he put down the paper, and after looking into the fire for a minute, took up another from the floor. At that moment the door opened, and a large elderly man with a mild and pleasant face came into the room. He was dressed in a dark pepper-and-salt suit, with a white tie, and shut the door carefully behind him.

”Ah, my dear Tom!” said the Squire. ”You had Nina's telegram, I suppose. I sent it down to you directly it came.”

”Yes,” said the Rector. ”I was surprised that it should all have been over so quickly. How is your foot this morning, Edward?”

”Oh, all right. At least, it isn't all right. I had a horrible night--never slept a wink. I've got the papers here. The woman ought to have got penal servitude. Yes, it was over quickly. It was all as plain as possible, and I'm glad she did herself no good by her monstrous lies. The gross impudence of it! Evidently she'll stick at nothing. But I forgot. You haven't seen the evidence. Here, read this! Would it be believed that she could have put up such a defence?

That bit there!”

The Rector deliberately fixed a pair of gold-rimmed gla.s.ses on to his nose, and took the paper, looking up occasionally from his reading as his brother interjected remarks, which interrupted but did not seem to irritate him.

”I don't quite understand, Edward,” he said, when he had finished the pa.s.sage to which his attention had been drawn. ”She says the pearls she sold were given to her by somebody, but the name is not mentioned.

Apparently there was a wrangle about it.”

”Oh, my dear Tom,” said the Squire, ”can't you see what it all means?

It is as plain as the nose on your face. A wicked, baseless scandal.”

The Rector returned to the newspaper, but his air of bewilderment remained.

”Oh well,” said the Squire with an impatient glance at him. ”You don't live in the world where these things are talked about. I don't either, thank G.o.d. But one hears things. This infamous woman has posed as the--the friend--the mistress--yes, actually wanted it to be thought that she was the mistress, of---- No, I'm not going to say it; I won't sully my lips, or put ideas into your head. It's untrue, absolutely untrue, and people in that position are defenceless. She ought not to bring in their names even in idle talk. I'm very glad indeed that there was a strong stand made in the court.”

The Rector had re-read the pa.s.sage, and looked up with a slight flush on his cheeks--almost the look that an innocent girl might have shown if some shameful suggestion had come home to her. ”It is not----” he hazarded.

”Oh, not here,” the Squire took him up. ”Paris. But it is all the more abominable. I don't believe a word of it. And even if it were true---- But is it a likely story?”

”I hope not,” said the Rector gravely.

”Oh, these things do happen; I don't deny that. One can't judge these people quite the same as ourselves. But what a preposterous idea!

Pearls worth thousands! And at the very time when this necklace of Lady Sedbergh's was missing, and she was practically seen taking it!

Joan saw her. I'm glad they didn't worry Joan too much over her evidence. I'm glad it's over for the child. It's annoyed me most infernally to be tied by the leg here, and not knowing what might be going on, where I couldn't direct or advise. However, she did very well--gave her answers simply and stuck to them, and there was no more of that impudent suggestion about young Trench, I'm glad to say, except that they tried to make out he had put it all into her head. He's quite a decent fellow, that woman's counsel. Herbert Birkett knows him. It's pretty plain that he was only making the best of a bad job--couldn't expect to get the woman off, especially after she had put herself out of court in the way she did.”

”I see,” said the Rector, who had been reading steadily while this speech was being delivered, ”that there was evidence from several people that she had worn a pearl necklace, before the time Lady Sedbergh's was stolen.”

”Yes, and if you'll read further, you'll see that her maid declares that it was a sham one. She told her so herself. They tried to make out that she wanted to put her off the scent. But that won't wash.

The maid gave her evidence very well. You'll see it towards the end.

It is what clinched it. She had seen the diamond star in the woman's jewel-box. Of course she has made away with it somehow, since; but the maid described it exactly. She had had it in her hands, and there was an unusual sort of catch, which she couldn't have heard about. She told her young man, and he went to the police. Oh, it's _proved_. It isn't only circ.u.mstantial evidence, it's d.a.m.ning proof. And she's got far less than her deserts. A year's imprisonment! She ought to have had ten years' hard labour.”

”They seem to have convicted her on the theft of the diamond star alone.”

”Yes, I don't quite understand why, except that there is no conceivable doubt as to that. I suppose her impudent lie about the necklace saved her, as far as that goes. It led them to drop the charge, as they had got her on the other. I must read the evidence again.”

The Rector put the paper aside, and took off his gla.s.ses. ”Poor woman!” he said, with a sigh. ”Her life ruined! But it is well for her that she has been found out. Her punishment will balance the account against her; she will get another start.”