“It’s over now,” she whispered.  “Thank God for that!”

He leaned upon her for a space.  “Yes, it’s over.  At least he died in peace,” he said, and drew a hard, quivering breath.  Then he stood up again.  “Juliet, I’m so sorry.  Come inside!  I’ll light the lamp.  I couldn’t stand that empty house—­with only my boy’s dead body in it.  Mrs. Rickett has been there, but she’s gone now.”  He turned and pushed open the door.  “Wait a minute while I light up!”

She did not wait, but followed him closely, and stood beside him while he lighted a lamp on the wall.  He turned from doing so and smiled at her, and she saw that though his face was ghastly, he was his own master again.

“How did you get here?” he said.  “Who took the note?  The doctor promised to get it delivered.”

“Jack brought it,” she said.  “I came back with him.”

“Jack!” His brows drew together suddenly.  She saw his black eyes gleam.  For a moment he said nothing further.  Then:  “If—­Jack comes anywhere near me to-night, I shall kill him!” he said very quietly.

“Dick!” she said in amazement.

There was a certain awful intentness in his look.  “I hold him responsible for this,” he said.

She gazed at him, assailed by a swift wonder as to his sanity.

In a second he saw the doubt and replied to it, still with that deadly quietness that seemed to her more terrible than violence.  “I know what I am saying.  He is—­directly responsible.  My boy died for my sake, because he believed what Jack told him—­that no woman would ever consent to marry me while he lived.”

“Oh, Dick!  You don’t mean—­he did it—­on purpose!” Juliet’s voice was quick with pain.  “Dick, surely—­surely—­it wasn’t that!  You are making a mistake!”

“No.  It is no mistake,” he said, with sombre conviction.  “I know it.  Mrs. Rickett knows it too.  It’s been preying on his mind ever since.  He hasn’t been well.  He’s suffered with his head a good deal lately.  He—­” He stopped himself.  “There’s no need to distress you over this.  Thank you for coming.  I didn’t really expect you.  Is he—­is Jack—­waiting to take you back?”

“No,” said Juliet quietly.

His brows went up.  “You are sleeping at the Court?  I’ll take you there.”

“I’m not going yet, Dick,” she said gently, “unless you turn me out.”

His face quivered unexpectedly.  He turned from her.  “There’s—­nothing to wait for,” he said.

But Juliet stood motionless.  Her eyes went down the long bare room with its empty forms and ink-splashed desks.  She thought it the most desolate place she had ever seen.

After an interval of blank silence Dick spoke again.  “Don’t you stay!  I’m not myself to-night.  I can’t—­think.  It was awfully good of you to come.  But don’t—­stay!”

“Dick!” she said.

At sound of her voice he turned.  His eyes looked at her out of such a depth of misery as pierced her to the heart.  She saw his hands clench against his sides.  “O my God!” he said under his breath.