believer in work, and all his sons had to find occupation and
justify their lives in his eyes. Uncle Albert, who was only a year
younger than my father, cared for studious subjects and literature.
He was apprenticed in youth to a bookseller at Sydney and after a
time came to England, joined a large and important firm of
booksellers, and became an expert. They took him into partnership
and he travelled for them and spent some years in New York. But his
special subject was Italian Renaissance literature and his joy was
Italy, where he now lives. He found himself in a position to retire
about ten years ago, being a bachelor with modest requirements. He
knew, moreover, that his father must soon pass away and, as his
mother was already dead, he stood in a position to count upon a
share of the large fortune to be divided presently between himself
and his two remaining brothers.

"Of these my Uncle Bendigo Redmayne was a sailor in the merchant
marine. After reaching the position of a captain in the Royal Mail
Steamship Company he retired on my grandfather's death, four years
ago. He is a bluff, gruff old salt without any charm, and he never
reached promotion into the passenger service, but remained in
command of cargo boats--a circumstance he regarded as a great
grievance. But the sea is his devotion, and when he was able to do
so, he built himself a little house on the Devon cliffs, where now
he resides within sound of the waves.

"My third uncle, Robert Redmayne, is at this moment apparently
suspected of having killed my husband; but the more I think of such
a hideous situation, the less possible does it appear. For not the
wildest nightmare dream would seem more mad and motiveless than such
a horror as this.