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For it was soon evident, from certain remarks made by the Coroner, that the theory which Archdale had put forward at the club in Bryce's hearing the previous day had gained favour with the authorities, and that the visit of the jurymen to the scene of the disaster had been intended by the Coroner to predispose them in behalf of it.
It was late September, and the rush homewards had begun; so Coxeter, being a man of precise and careful habit, had reserved a corner seat. Then, just before the train had started, a certain Mrs. Archdale, a young widowed lady with whom he was acquainted, had come up to him on the Paris platform, and to her he had given up his seat.
"Don't move your head, Elizabeth, keep it in that position a little longer," said Katie Archdale, as she and her friend sat together the morning after the sail. "I wish an artist were here to paint you so; you've no idea how striking you are." "No, I have not," laughed the other, forgetting to keep still as she spoke, and turning the face that had been toward the window full upon her companion.
Everything which had once been to him important had become, if not worthless, then unessential. He had sometimes secretly wondered why Mrs. Archdale, possessed as she was of considerable means, had not altered the old house, had not made it pretty as her friends' houses and rooms were pretty; but to-day he no longer wondered at this.
A series of proprietary governors were sent out to them Ludwell first, then Smith; both failed, and retired. Then came Archdale, the Quaker, who struck a popular note in his remark that dissenters could cut wood and hoe crops as well as the highest churchmen; his policy was to concede, to conciliate and to harmonize, and he was welcome and useful.
Although he was unconscious of it, John Coxeter was a very material human being, and this no doubt was why this woman had so compelling an attraction for him; for Nan Archdale appeared to be all spirit, and that in spite of her eager, sympathetic concern in the lives which circled about hers. And yet?
She wondered if it had been sent to her because it had been feared that Stephen Archdale would keep silence. "I write without knowing to whom I am writing," began the paper, "except that among the readers must be some whom I have wronged. I can scarcely crave forgiveness of them, because they will surely not grant it to me.
Later that same morning a gentleman calling upon Mistress Katie Archdale was told that he would find her with friends in the garden. Walking through the paths with a leisurely step which the impatience of his mood chafed against, he came upon a picture that he never forgot.
Nan had done what she had done, had taken her in and sheltered her, going to the Court with her every day, simply because there seemed absolutely no one else willing to do it. When he had first heard of what Mrs. Archdale was undertaking to do, Coxeter had been so dismayed that he had felt called upon to expostulate with her. Very few words had passed between them.
"Is it possible," he had asked, "that you think her innocent? That you believe her own story?" To this Mrs. Archdale had answered with some distress, "I don't know, I haven't thought about it As she says she is I hope she is. If she's not, I'd rather not know it." It had been a confused utterance, and somehow she had made him feel sorry that he had said anything.
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