service of the deceased Lady Catheron in London; the first week of
September I accompanied them down here. On the evening of the murder,
about half-past six o'clock, or perhaps a quarter of seven, while I
was busy in the day nursery over my duties, my lady came in, as she
often did, though not at that hour. She looked pale and flurried, and
bent over baby, who lay asleep, without speaking. Sir Victor came in
while she was still there, and without taking any notice of me, told
her he had received a note from Lady Helena Powyss saying Squire
Powyss had had a stroke, and that he must go at once to Powyss Place.
He said he thought he would be absent all night, that he would return
as soon as he could, and that she was to take care of herself. He
kissed her good-by and left the room. My lady went to the, window and
waved her hand to him, and watched him out of sight. About ten minutes
after, while she still stood there, the door opened and Miss Inez came
in and asked for Sir Victor; she said she wanted him. Then she stooped
over and looked at the baby, calling him the heir of Catheron Royals.
Then she laughed in her soft way, and said: 'I wonder if he _is_ the
heir of Catheron Royals? I have been reading the Scotch marriage law
and after what you and my brother said the other night--' If she said
any more I didn't catch it--my lady turned round in such a flame of
anger as I never saw her in before, and says she: 'You have uttered
your last insult, Inez Catheron--you will never utter another beneath
this roof. To-morrow you will leave it. I am Sir Victor Catheron's
wife, and mistress of Catheron Royals--this is the last night it will
ever shelter you.' Then she opens the door. 'Go!' she said; 'when my
husband returns you or I leave this forever.' Neither of them took the
least notice of me; I was afraid of being seen, and kept as quiet as I
could. I heard Miss Inez answer: 'Not all the soap-boilers' daughters
in England shall send me from Catheron Royals. You may go to-morrow if
you will, but I will never go, never!' With that she went away, and my