Chapter 4

In Venice he met his brother, Lord Surbiton, who happened to have
come over from Corfu in his yacht. The two young men spent a
delightful fortnight together. In the morning they rode on the
Lido, or glided up and down the green canals in their long black
gondola; in the afternoon they usually entertained visitors on the
yacht; and in the evening they dined at Florian's, and smoked
innumerable cigarettes on the Piazza. Yet somehow Lord Arthur was
not happy. Every day he studied the obituary column in the Times,
expecting to see a notice of Lady Clementina's death, but every day
he was disappointed. He began to be afraid that some accident had
happened to her, and often regretted that he had prevented her
taking the aconitine when she had been so anxious to try its effect.
Sybil's letters, too, though full of love, and trust, and
tenderness, were often very sad in their tone, and sometimes he used
to think that he was parted from her for ever.

After a fortnight Lord Surbiton got bored with Venice, and
determined to run down the coast to Ravenna, as he heard that there
was some capital cock-shooting in the Pinetum. Lord Arthur at first
refused absolutely to come, but Surbiton, of whom he was extremely
fond, finally persuaded him that if he stayed at Danieli's by
himself he would be moped to death, and on the morning of the 15th
they started, with a strong nor'-east wind blowing, and a rather
choppy sea. The sport was excellent, and the free, open-air life
brought the colour back to Lord Arthur's cheek, but about the 22nd
he became anxious about Lady Clementina, and, in spite of Surbiton's
remonstrances, came back to Venice by train.

As he stepped out of his gondola on to the hotel steps, the
proprietor came forward to meet him with a sheaf of telegrams. Lord
Arthur snatched them out of his hand, and tore them open.
Everything had been successful. Lady Clementina had died quite
suddenly on the night of the 17th!

His first thought was for Sybil, and he sent her off a telegram
announcing his immediate return to London. He then ordered his
valet to pack his things for the night mail, sent his gondoliers
about five times their proper fare, and ran up to his sitting-room
with a light step and a buoyant heart. There he found three letters
waiting for him. One was from Sybil herself, full of sympathy and
condolence. The others were from his mother, and from Lady
Clementina's solicitor. It seemed that the old lady had dined with
the Duchess that very night, had delighted every one by her wit and
esprit, but had gone home somewhat early, complaining of heartburn.
In the morning she was found dead in her bed, having apparently
suffered no pain. Sir Mathew Reid had been sent for at once, but,