The Uninhabited House | Page 9

sit for half an
hour at a time, doing nothing but looking at a faded bit of the
dining-room carpet."
He took no interest in anything; if he was asked any questions about the
garden, he would say, "What does it matter? she cannot see it now."
"Indeed, my lord," said Miss Blake, in her agitation probably
confounding the coroner with the chief justice, "it was just pitiful to see
the creature; I am sure his ways got to be heart-breaking."
"After my sister's death," Miss Blake resumed, after a pause, devoted
by herself, the jury, and the coroner to sentiment, "Robert Elmsdale
gave up his office in London, and brought his business home. I do not
know why he did this. He would not, had she been living, because he
always kept his trade well out of her sight, poor man. Being what she
was, she could not endure the name of it, naturally. It was not my place
to say he shouldn't do what he liked in his own house, and I thought the
excitement of building a new room, and quarrelling with the builder,
and swearing at the men, was good for him. He made a fireproof place
for his papers, and he fitted up the office like a library, and bought a

beautiful large table, covered with leather; and nobody to have gone in
would have thought the room was used for business. He had a Turkey
carpet on the floor, and chairs that slipped about on castors; and he
planned a covered way out into the road, with a separate entrance for
itself, so that none of us ever knew who went out or who came in. He
kept his affairs secret as the grave."
"No," in answer to the coroner, who began to think Miss Blake's
narrative would never come to an end. "I heard no shot: none of us did:
we all slept away from that part of the house; but I was restless that
night, and could not sleep, and I got up and looked out at the river, and
saw a flare of light on it. I thought it odd he was not gone to bed, but
took little notice of the matter for a couple of hours more, when it was
just getting gray in the morning, and I looked out again, and still seeing
the light, slipped on a dressing-wrapper and my slippers, and ran
downstairs to tell him he would ruin his health if he did not go to his
bed.
"When I opened the door I could see nothing; the table stood between
me and him; but the gas was flaring away, and as I went round to put it
out, I came across him lying on the floor. It never occurred to me he
was dead; I thought he was in a fit, and knelt down to unloose his
cravat, then I found he had gone.
"The pistol lay on the carpet beside him--and that," finished Miss Blake,
"is all I have to tell."
When asked if she had ever known of his losing money by betting, she
answered it was not likely he would tell her anything of that kind.
"He always kept his business to himself," she affirmed, "as is the way
of most men."
In answer to other questions, she stated she never heard of any losses in
business; there was plenty of money always to be had for the asking.
He was liberal enough, though perhaps not so liberal latterly, as before
his wife's death; she didn't know anything of the state of his affairs.
Likely, Mr. Craven could tell them all about that.
Mr. Craven, however, proved unable to do so. To the best of his belief,
Mr. Elmsdale was in very easy circumstances. He had transacted a
large amount of business for him, but never any involving pecuniary
loss or anxiety; he should have thought him the last man in the world to
run into such folly as betting; he had no doubt Mrs. Elmsdale's death

had affected him disastrously. He said more than once to witness, if it
were not for the sake of his child, he should not care if he died that
night.
All of which, justifying the jury in returning a verdict of "suicide while
of unsound mind," they expressed their unanimous opinion to that
effect--thus "saving the family the condemnation of _felo de se_"
remarked Miss Blake.
The dead man was buried, the church service read over his remains, the
household was put into mourning, the blinds were drawn up, the
windows flung open, and the business of life taken up once more by the
survivors.

3. OUR LAST TENANT
It is quite competent for a person so to manage his affairs, that, whilst
understanding all