"I am sure Hilda's brother will not refuse your request," said Dora, with a pleading look at Heathcote.
"If Hilda and her lover can fulfil their own scheme of happiness by a speedy marriage, I will not be a stumbling-block," said Heathcote.
After this they talked for a little while on indifferent subjects, and of the journey back to Cornwall—that tedious journey of a helpless invalid which would be so different from any previous experience of Julian Wyllard's. He spoke of it lightly enough, affecting a philosophical disdain for the changes and chances of this little life: but Heathcote marked the quiver of his lip, the look of pain, which neither pride nor stoicism could suppress.
Yes, it was a hard thing for such a man, in the very prime of life, handsome, clever, prosperous, to be so struck down: and it could but be said that Julian Wyllard carried himself firmly under the trial.
Heathcote and Dora parted sorrowfully outside the sick-room.
"Is it not good of him to wish to see Bothwell's happiness secured?" she said.
"It is very good of him to think of any one except himself at such a moment," answered Heathcote.
"I am so glad he has won your consent to an early marriage. And now that you have given that consent—now that we are all assured of the folly of any suspicion pointing at Bothwell—I conclude that you will trouble yourself no more about the mystery of that poor girl's death."
"There you are mistaken. I shall go on with my investigation, in the cause of justice. Besides, Bothwell's character can never be thoroughly rehabilitated till the real criminal is found; and, for a third reason, I am interested in this strange story as a work of art. Good-bye, Mrs. Wyllard; if I can be of any use to you to-morrow in helping to move your invalid, pray send for me. If not, I suppose we shall not meet till I call on you at Penmorval. I leave the business of Hilda's marriage to your discretion. She cannot have a better adviser than you, and whatever plans you make I shall sanction."
He left the hotel and strolled slowly towards the Madeleine, hardly knowing what he should do with the rest of his day. He had an appointment with Sigismond Trottier in the evening. That gentleman and he were to meet at the Gymnase at the first performance of a new play, and they were to sup at Vachette's afterwards, when Heathcote was to hear any fresh facts that the paragraphist might have gathered for him relating to the mysterious Georges and the once celebrated Mdlle. Prévol. Trottier had promised to hunt up the few men who had been intimate with Georges, and to get all the information he could from them.
