The confession of my wicked husband."
"Confession?"
"Yes.
You will find it particularly interesting, Mr. Ware.
It was my miserable husband who murdered Daisy."
"Never!" gasped Giles, rising aghast. "He was in the library all the time.
You told——"
"I know what I told," she answered quickly. "I did so to save my name from shame; for the sake of my children I lied.
Oliver did not deserve the mercy I showed him.
Base to the last he deserted me.
Now he is dead.
I am glad to hear it." She paused and laughed. "I shall not change my dress, Mr. Ware."
"Don't, Mrs. Morley," he said, with a shudder.
"Not that name, if you please," she said, and noting her card on the desk she tore it in two.
Then opening her case she tore the other cards and scattered them on the floor. "Mrs. Morley is no more.
I am Mrs. Warton.
That is the name of my first husband—my true husband—the father of my three children.
Yes, Mr. Ware, I have sold my furniture, and let The Elms.
To-morrow I leave for the south of France with my children.
I land in France as Mrs. Warton, and the old life is gone for ever.
Can you blame me?"
"From what I know of Morley I cannot," he stammered. "But what do you know, Mrs. Mor—I mean Mrs. Warton?"
"I know everything.
Listen, Mr. Ware.
When Oliver married me I was in love with him.
I thought he loved me for myself. But it was my money he was after.
Some time after our marriage I found that he was a gambler.
He lost all my money at cards.
Fortunately there was a sum of a thousand a year settled on me which he could not touch, nor was he able to touch the money left to my children.
All the rest (and there was a great deal) he wheedled out of me and spent."
"I wonder you did not put an end to him long ago.
I mean I should have thought you would separate from the scoundrel."
Mrs. Morley sighed.
"I loved him," she said in low tones. "It took me many a long day to stamp that love out of my heart.
I did all he wished me to do.
I took The Elms and obtained the guardianship of Daisy.
I never thought that he had any design in getting me to take her to live with us.
I was one of her father's oldest friends and loved the girl.
Morley managed the affair in such a manner that I did what he wished without knowing I was being coerced."
"Morley was a very clever man."
"And a wicked man," said his widow, without emotion. "I can only think of the way he behaved to me and mine.
Daisy always hated him.
I could never get her to like him.
I don't know what he said or did to her—he always seemed to me to treat her with kindness—but she had an antipathy to him.
He thought when she got the Powell money he would do what he liked with her and it.
But when he saw she was hostile to him he determined then on her murder."
"You did not know that at the time?" said Giles breathlessly.
"No.
Certainly I did not, or I should have sent the girl away.
I am only talking by the light of recent events.