The physicians who made out the certificate ascribed her death to heart-disease, symptoms of which had lately much alarmed the family doctor; but that a personal struggle of some kind had preceded the fatal attack was evident from the bruises which blackened her wrists.  Had there been the like upon her throat it might have gone hard with the young husband who was known to be contemplating her dismissal from the house.  But the discoloration of her wrists was all, and as bruised wrists do not kill and there was besides no evidence forthcoming of the two having spent one moment together for at least ten hours preceding the tragedy but rather full and satisfactory testimony to the contrary, the matter lapsed and all criminal proceedings were avoided.

But not the scandal which always follows the unexplained.  As time passed and the peculiar look which betrays the haunted soul gradually became visible in the young widower’s eyes, doubts arose and reports circulated which cast strange reflections upon the tragic end of his mistaken marriage.  Stories of the disreputable use to which the old grotto had been put were mingled with vague hints of conjugal violence never properly investigated.  The result was his general avoidance not only by the social set dominated by his high-minded father, but by his own less reputable coterie, which, however lax in its moral code, had very little use for a coward.

Such was the gossip which had reached Violet’s ears in connection with this new client, prejudicing her altogether against him till she caught that beam of deep and concentrated suffering in his eye and recognized an innocence which ensured her sympathy and led her to grant him the interview for which he so earnestly entreated.

He came prompt to the hour, and when she saw him again with the marks of a sleepless night upon him and all the signs of suffering intensified in his unusual countenance, she felt her heart sink within her in a way she failed to understand.  A dread of what she was about to hear robbed her of all semblance of self-possession, and she stood like one in a dream as he uttered his first greetings and then paused to gather up his own moral strength before he began his story.  When he did speak it was to say: 

“I find myself obliged to break a vow I have made to myself.  You cannot understand my need unless I show you my heart.  My trouble is not the one with which men have credited me.  It has another source and is infinitely harder to bear.  Personal dishonour I have deserved in a greater or less degree, but the trial which has come to me now involves a person more dear to me than myself, and is totally without alleviation unless you—­” He paused, choked, then recommenced abruptly:  “My wife”—­Violet held her breath—­“was supposed to have died from heart-disease or—­or some strange species of suicide.  There were reasons for this conclusion—­reasons which I accepted without serious question till some five weeks ago when I made a discovery which led me to fear—­”