“I did not wish to add to your distress when I know what you must be feeling at returning to England without my protection, but I believe we will find that Dunfield’s death was not surprising, in the present circumstance. I will not say more, as I do not know more, but can only surmise what such a stile of living can comprehend as a means to this most deplorable end. Pray, Elizabeth, be satisfied for the present, and I am sure that we will both have better information when we are returned to England; if Fitzwilliam is incapable himself of discovering the truth of this wretched matter, remember that Mr. Gardiner is there and will be as diligent and careful as anyone could wish.”

Elizabeth, whilst unused to a lack of confidence in her reason as the present discussion suggested, also had such a complete trust in her husband’s judgement, that she resolved against further questions, and replied, “I understand, Husband. I will go to Georgiana and see to her maid and to her preparations. I am sure all will be well. She has not had a chance to grieve properly for Blanche—and this news is come upon all of us so suddenly, and is so shocking, indeed, as it must be to one of Georgiana’s tender feelings and gentle views of the world in general; I am sure she had not imagined such an evil possible. It is to this last that I impute such a disproportionate and unreasonable reaction.”

“I am sure you are right, my dearest Elizabeth,” he said taking her hands and kissing them. “I will see to our account here and the other arrangements that must be completed before we may depart Venice.” And, turning quietly, he was gone from the room.

CHAP. 14.