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Updated: May 23, 2025
She was back in Sandypoint, he beside her, living over the old days, gone forever. She awoke to see the tawny moonshine streaming in, to hear the soft whispers of the night wind, the soft, sleepy lap of the sea on the sands, and to realize, with a thrill and a shock, she was Sir Victor Catheron's wife. His wife! This was her wedding-day. Even in dreams Charley must come to her no more.
"I will never be able to hold up my head in the county after but she must let Ethel alone. By fair means or foul she must." The day of Lady Helena Powyss' party came a terrible ordeal for Ethel. She had grown miserably nervous under the life she had led the past two weeks the ceaseless mockery of Miss Catheron's soft, scornful tones, the silent contempt and derision of her hard black eyes.
"Simplicity is all very well," Lady Helena answered Miss Darrell, "but Sir Victor Catheron's bride must dress as becomes Sir Victor Catheron's station. In three years from now, if you prefer white muslin and simplicity, prefer it by all means. About the wedding-dress, you will kindly let me have my own way."
The creme de la creme of Cheshire assembled in Lady Helena's halls of dazzling light, to do honor to Sir Victor Catheron's bride-elect. For the engagement had been formally announced, and was the choice bit of gossip, with which the shire regaled itself.
Who was this man was it Miss Catheron's scapegrace brother? Jimmy could tell him nothing more. "If you wants to find out about Miss Inez' brother," said Jimmy, "you go to old Hooper. He knows. All I know is, that they say he was an uncommon bad lot; but old Hooper, he's knowed him ever since he was a young'un and lived here.
Sir Victor's afraid of her anybody can see that with half an eye." She descended to the servants' regions again, and encountered Ellen, Lady Catheron's smart maid, sociably drinking tea with the housekeeper. And once more into their attentive ears she poured forth this addenda to her previous narrative. "What was Miss Inez doing in there?" demanded the maid; "no, good, I'll be bound.
They would have been more convinced of it than ever, could they have seen her turn now to Lady Catheron's portrait and appeal to it aloud in impassioned words: "On his knees, by your dying bed, by your dying command, he vowed to love and cherish me always as he did then. Let him take care how he trifles with that vow let him take care!"
Mother is with her and Nellie; Nellie has been her best friend and nurse; Nellie has never left her, and Charley," hesitatingly, for something in his manner awes Trix, "I believe she thinks you and Nellie are engaged." "Stop!" he says imperiously, and Trixy rises with a sigh and puts on her hat and shawl. Five minutes later they are in the street, on their way to Lady Catheron's hotel.
Sir Victor Catheron's pretty young wife lay there in the moonlight dead. Dead! There is blood on the white dress, blood on the blue shawl, blood on Ellen's hand, blood trickling in a small red stream from under the left breast. Ethel, Lady Catheron, lies there before her in the moonlight stone dead foully murdered.
To be home once more to be back in the cosy, common-place Russell square lodgings! If it were not for baby she feels as though she would like to run away, from Sir Victor and all, anywhere that Inez Catheron's black eyes and derisive smile could never come. The September twilight, sparkling with frosty-looking stars, is settling down over the trees.
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