me, and I arranged to leave the tennis party early and meet her at the end of the footpath at a quarter past six. We just had a hurried meeting and arranged when to meet again. We left each other before half-past six. Afterwards I was terrified that she would be suspected of having killed father. After all, she had got a grudge against him. That’s why I got hold of that old picture of her up in the attic and slashed it about. I was afraid the police might go nosing about and get hold of it and recognize it. Dr. Haydock was frightened too. Sometimes, I believe, he really thought she had done it! Mother is rather a—desperate kind of person. She doesn’t count consequences.”
She paused.
“It’s queer. She and I belong to each other. Father and I didn’t. But mother—well, anyway, I’m going abroad with her. I shall be with her till—till the end. …”
She got up and I took her hand.
“God bless you both,” I said. “Some day, I hope, there is a lot of happiness coming to you, Lettice.”
“There should be,” she said, with an attempt at a laugh. “There hasn’t been much so far—has there? Oh, well, I don’t suppose it matters. Goodbye, Mr. Clement. You’ve been frightfully decent to me always—you and Griselda.”
Griselda!
I had to own to her how terribly the anonymous letter had upset me, and first she laughed, and then solemnly read me a lecture.
“However,” she added, “I’m going to be very sober and God-fearing in future—quite like the Pilgrim fathers.”
I did not see Griselda in the role of a Pilgrim father.