“If I had banished it from my thoughts up till now, I could not leave it alone now, for I have a clue.”

“Oh, don’t, Edmund.”

“Well, it may come to nothing; only I’m glad that it makes one thing still more clear to me though it may go no further.”

He told her then of what the stud-groom had said, and ended by showing her the letter.  Rose read it in silence, and then, still standing with her face turned away, she said in a very low voice: 

“It is a comfort as far as it goes.  But I knew it was so; he never meant things to be as they are—­poor David!  Edmund, it is of no use to think of it.  Even if the paper then witnessed were the will, it is lost now and will never be found.  I would rather—­I would really rather not think too much about it.”

“No, no,” he answered soothingly, “don’t dear, don’t dwell on it.”

“I like,” she answered, “to dwell on the thought that David did think of me lovingly, and did not mean to leave me to any shame.  I am sure he never meant to leave me poor, and to let me suffer all the publicity about that poor woman.  I am sure he always meant to change the will in time, but, you see, all that mischief is done and can’t be undone.  I mean the humiliation and the idea that she was in Florence all the time during our married life, and all the talk, and my having to meet this unfortunate girl who has his money.  All of them think he was unfaithful to me, and nothing can put that right.  Nothing—­I mean nothing of this world—­can put any of that right.  And I can’t bear the idea of a quarrel and going to law with these people for money; it may be pride, but I simply can’t bear it.”

“But, don’t you see,” said Edmund, “that if we could prove there was another will, that would clear David’s reputation.”

“It won’t prevent people knowing that there was the first will and all about the poor woman in Florence.”

“No; but it will make people feel that he behaved properly in the end.  It will alter their bad opinion of him.”

“But it will also make them go on thinking and talking of the scandal, and if it is left alone they will forget.  People forget so soon, because there is always something new to talk about.  He will just take his place among the heroes who died for their country, and the rest will be forgotten.”

Edmund looked at her quickly, as if taking stock of the delicate nature of the complex womanly materials he had to deal with, but her face was still averted.

“I think it’s hard on David.”  He spoke as if yielding to her wish.  “I do think it is hard.  If he did make this will, and it is lost through chance or fraud, I think it is very hard that his last wishes should be disregarded, and his memory should suffer in all right-minded people’s opinions.  Of course, it is for you to decide, but I own I should otherwise feel it wrong to leave a stone unturned if anything could be done to restore his good name.”