Part 24 (1/2)
”I was a fool not to suspect what was going on. She was head over ears in debt. What she must have been spending on clothes it frightens me to think of. She told me that she had got somebody to make them for almost nothing, but I might have known that was nonsense, if I'd thought about it at all. I remember now some woman or other laughing at me when I told her she dressed herself on two hundred a year. 'I suppose you mean two thousand,' she said, and I should think it couldn't have been much less than that. She had things put away that I'd never seen. She didn't disclose half what she owed when you helped us two years ago. Then she'd been playing Bridge with a lot of harpies--Auction--at sixpenny points--and she's no more head for it than an infant in arms.”
”Sixpenny points!” repeated the Squire.
”Well, it means she could easily lose forty or fifty pounds in an afternoon, and probably did, often enough. She had to find ready money for that. I haven't got at it all yet, but when we went down to Brummels she didn't know which way to turn, and was desperate--ready to do anything. I know there was a---- No, I can't tell you that; and it doesn't matter. I'm not sure it isn't as well for her, and for me, that she did get the money in the way she did.”
The Squire's face was very grave. ”You know, Humphrey, if she has deceived you, and is capable of this horrible theft, you ought to satisfy yourself----”
Humphrey broke down again, but recovered himself quickly. ”Thank G.o.d, I know everything,” he said. ”Everything that matters. She was terrified. She turned to me. There's nothing between us. It's all partly my fault. I'd been in debt myself, and hadn't helped her to keep straight. And we'd had rows, and she was afraid to tell me things.”
”Go on, my dear boy,” said the Squire very kindly.
”It's soon told. She heard Lady Sedbergh and Mrs. Amberley talking about the hiding-place.”
”Was she in the room?”
”She was just outside. The door was open.”
”She listened?”
”Yes. She stayed outside, and listened. They went out by another door, and she went into the room at once and took the necklace. She p.a.w.ned pearls here and there, going out in the evening, veiled, but in a foolish, reckless way. I can't conceive why something didn't come out at the trial. It was she who gave Rachel Amberley's name at that place in the city. She's about the same height. But imagine the folly of it! She says that it 'came over her' to do it, and she only did it that once. She seems to have made up names at the other places.”
”Did she get rid of all the pearls?”
”That's what I can't make out yet. She got enough money to pay up everything; but not more. She can't say how much, but it can't possibly have been what the pearls were worth. Perhaps she let some of them go at an absurd value, which would be a reason for those who had got them to lie low. I couldn't get at everything; there was so much that I had to ask about; and she wasn't in a state---- Oh, she'd have been capable of any folly--even throwing some of them away, if she got frightened. We've been dancing on gunpowder. Clark knew all along; or almost from the first.”
”Did she help her?”
”Oh no. She was fond of her; she was the daughter of one of their gardeners.”
”Are you _sure_ she didn't help her? What do you mean--she was fond of her?”
”I mean that she might have given her away.”
”She knew at the time of the trial?”
”Yes.”
”Did she threaten Susan, then?”
”No. I think she never meant to do anything at all. Susan had given her a lot of things. She was in with her to that extent--knew about her dressmaking bills. And she wanted to marry Gotch, and Gotch is loyal to us. She didn't want to make trouble. It was only Gotch being kept hanging on about Canada that put it into her head that she had a weapon.”
”But you say she threatened you. She must be a bad woman.”
”Well, I put her back up. She came to me and said she wanted something done at once, and hinted that she knew things. I was angry at being pressed in that way, and made her speak out. I believe, at first, she thought I was in it; or she wouldn't have come to me in the way she did. I soon disabused her of that idea, if she really held it, and I was furious. I thought it was blackmail, as you did. I threatened to have her up. That scandalised her, and she convinced me that she was telling the truth. She told me to go and ask Susan, if I didn't believe her. It was then, when she had burnt her boats, that she threatened.”
”Well--however you look at it--it is blackmail. She's ready to compound a felony. And we are asked to do the same. Humphrey, this is a terrible story. It's the blackest day I've ever known. I don't think I've quite taken it all in yet. Susan a thief! All that we've said and thought about that other woman--and justly too, if she'd been guilty--applies to--to one of ourselves--to a Clinton. I feel stunned by it. I don't know what to say or do.”
His face was grey. His very tranquillity showed how deeply he had been hit.
”What we have to do,” said Humphrey, ”is to avert the disgrace to our name. Fortunately that can be done. It isn't blackmail; Clark never thought of it in that light, or she would have moved long ago. She thought we were not treating Gotch well in refusing him what he asked, after what he had done, and the promises we had made him. _He'll_ never know anything about it. Have him in and tell him that you will lend him the money he wants. That cuts the whole horrible knot.”