Constance had a talent for cruelty, there was no doubt of that. But the idea of committing her to an asylum is somehow … revolting. A primal, protective instinct flares inside Agnes’s chest. She was her sister, after all.

Is there anything else? She turns the pile upside down, rummages through the later letters. There is another in the same hand, although not nearly so neat.

Carfax,

My distress on receiving your last you can well imagine. Embarrassment to oneself may be endured, but when threats are made to the safety of those dearest to us, urgent action is required.

The boy’s reputation must undoubtedly suffer, yet better that than what you apprehend. I have fresh cause to lament you did not follow your heart and elect to save only the elder sister from the original scandal – it would leave you both now in a position to quietly adopt and raise the child. But I will not make you bitter with regrets.

Rest assured all shall be set in motion this end. I will send you word when you may expect the two inspecting physicians to assess the lady.

Yours &c

Dudfield

The note is dated about a week before Constance’s death.

She drops it as if it has bitten her.

The room falls completely silent. Both the organ and the choir melt away; the concert must be over.

She sits glaring at the letters, shocked, astounded. Finally she separates them from the others and tucks them down the front of her dress. She must keep them. Keep them and present them to Simon, to make sure that they are real, not a chimera.

He has betrayed her, though. It hurts to think he would contemplate something as serious as committal without even consulting her feelings. He has never mentioned it, in all these years. Perhaps he does not want to tell her about the awful thing her sister threatened, that inspired this letter from Dudfield? It is possible. But such a long silence suggests something else: it suggests concealment and guilt.

Constance must have known something of this. It must have been one of the reasons she hated Simon so much. Her determination to punish him, to ruin him financially, starts to make some sense.

Agnes cannot stop thinking about what would have happened, were it not for the Accident.

She will admit there were times in her life when she would have been glad to see Constance sent away. But the reality of it … Agnes tries to imagine men putting her sister into a strait-waistcoat and hauling her out the door. Mamma would still have died. She would have died from shame instead.