'Tis consider’d proper to present condolences

Sir V- P- is about as usefull in this crisis as a sheep that has got onto its back and makes helpless bleatings; 'tis fortunate that there are those at present in the household have more of a notion as to what is to be done.

The nearest local surgeon is sent for. Miss Constance has a bedchamber made up where Mrs D- K-, that still moves as if one in a trance, may lye down, with a truckle-bed for Connolly, that is still in somewhat of a state herself.

Dinner is serv’d – 'twould be of no benefit did we refrain from eating – but the company remains in a state of consternation and there is very little conversation. I confide that 'tis not at all an occasion when I might go tell some ghost story.

The ladies withdraw, and go into the parlour. Miss Constance has very thoughtfull provid’d madeira along with the usual tea and ratafia. A little madeira is quite entirely sanitive in such a circumstance.

'Tis not long before the gentlemen come join us.

I long very much to be in the embrace of my darlings, which is alas an impossibility.

Arrives the surgeon, and goes up to examine the corpse to see if it be truly dead and if so to pronounce upon the cause.

He is also askt to take a look at Mrs D- K-.

The conclusion is that 'twas very like a apoplectick seizure - for the fears of just such an event have been recount’d by all who saw the late Mr K- in a fit of temper - tho’ there are also cases of those that will fall quite sudden dead from being stung by bees or noxious insects, and he observes that the fellow had been much bitten and stung.

He declares Mrs D- K- to be in shock: 'tis not to be wonder’d at, did she see her husband expire before her eyes. Should be kept warm and calm, and will very like come out of it by herself.

I confide that there are no suspicions that this death was anything but natural; until I look across the room and observe an expression I know well upon Sandy’s features. Sure 'tis a good thing I remov’d the hat-pin.

We all go up to bed exceeding early, and I do not have a chance to communicate at all with Sandy, that I wish to dissuade from any probing into the matter. Indeed I know not how I may come at convoking with him: 'tis most immense worrying that he may go about voicing suspicions.

While I should hope that Sir V- P- is not mind’d towards tupping after the events of this day, nonetheless Sophy puts the chest across the door.

I am in a deep sleep when I am awaken’d by one beating quite frantick upon the door. Comes Sophy out of their chamber and says, should she see who 'tis.

As I confide that Sir V- P- would not make himself known in such a fashion, and that the desperation of the knocking imports some heavy matter, I say perchance she had better. She pulls away the chest and opens the door, and Mrs D- K- almost falls in.

She is somewhat recover’d, but I am not sure that she is come to her right mind, for she advances upon me, crying, where is it? what have you done with it?

Sophy makes movements as if to halt her, but I gesture to her to close the door, and then to go back to her own place. For with all this disturbance I am worry’d for Docket.

Mrs D- K-, says I, 'tis consider’d proper to present condolences to a lady that has late lost her husband, but I apprehend that this would not be the case here. Do you sit down and endeavour to calm yourself.

She halts and looks upon me.

The surgeon that was call’d for confides that 'twas an entire natural death, says I. Sure I am inclin’d to think that we should believe in his judgement as one that understands such matters.

She sits plump down on the end of the bed. And you said nothing? Believe me, I have nothing to offer in exchange for your silence if that is what you purport.

Indeed you do not, says I.

She runs her hands thro’ her hair, that is already extreme disorder’d. 'Twas an accident, she says, I did not mean – 'twas only to stop him, I did not suppose 'twould –

Why, says I, I confide that the law looks with great severity upon the killing of husbands by their wives. 'Tis possible, did you argue self-defence, that you might 'scape hanging and be transport’d instead. But has always seem’d to me that the law has been design’d by men and weight’d in their favour; and 'tis given out that husbands have an entire right to the chastisement of their wives, and suppos’d that wives must be about provoking 'em and are therefore in the wrong should they go defend themselves.

But what did you do with it?

'Tis in a safe place, says I, and I go think where I might dispose of it.

She looks at me in confusion.

There is a gentle tapping upon the door. Sophy comes in to see who 'tis.

'Tis Biffle, that says there are several of the party were disturb’d by that banging, and he has come ensure Lady B- is unharm’d, rather than the whole crowd arrive at my door.

O, says I, 'twas Mrs D- K- that had come to herself and learnt from her maid that I had been the one she first summon’d, and was in great terrour and distress and wisht to know what had happen’d, was’t true that her husband was dead, or was it just some fit, the poor thing is entire distract’d.

He observes Mrs D- K- that huddles at the foot of the bed and says indeed 'tis no wonder. Shocking thing, tho’ they were not entire surpriz’d: had been fearing somewhat of the kind might happen. But is there anything they might provide?

I have a little brandy about me for medicinal purposes, says I, that I daresay will be sufficient.

He conveys condolences to Mrs D- K- and says that they will not trouble her further, sure she could not be in better hands than Lady B-'s.

We exchange a look that I confide contains a deal of history, and he closes the door gently behind him.

You ly’d for me, says Mrs D- K-.

Indeed, says I. Should you care for a little brandy?

She shivers and wraps her arms about herself and say if she might.

She sips at it and says, but why?

Sure, says I, 'twould be exceeding disagreeable did one suppose a murder had taken place, ‘tis quite bad enough to have this unfortunate accident befall. Also, I go on, I consider you sadly provok’d by that wretch your late husband.

She stares at me. I confide that tho’ she has come to herself sufficient to go seek the hat-pin, she is still somewhat shockt and daz’d.

My dear, says I, I think you should go to your bed before we have Connolly running about looking for you, and try to sleep. Here, I go on, take this hop-pillow, said extreme helpful for sleeping.

She takes it and hugs it to her and says, yes, sleep… then stands up and goes towards the door.

We may talk further when you are rest’d, says I.

To my surprize I fall back to sleep quite readily, until I am woke by Sophy with my chocolate.

I desire her to dress me in my riding-habit, for I purpose a little ride upon Merrylegs to clear my head.

When I return from riding thro’ misty lanes, I find Sandy in the stable-yard, seated upon the mounting-block, smoaking and conversing very amiable with Ajax.

I raise my eyebrows.

Even Sir V- P-, he says, concedes that 'twould not be good ton to go out shooting today as if nothing had happen’d.

O, says I, so there will be a pack of idle fellows about the house all day. 'Tis a nice question whether you might go play at billiards.

C-, he says urgently in low tones, sure we should talk of this matter.

O, Mr MacD-, says I, sure your Bow Street acquaintance makes you see mysteries where none are. All were in quite daily anxiety that the like would happen with Mr D- K-. What, do you suppose that perchance one poison’d him covertly?

I see from Sandy’s expression that he had just such a surmize.

Really, my dear, 'twould have been entirely more answerable for one just to put him in a rage in hopes that he would expire.

Anyhow, says I, while I should not be surpriz’d to learn that there are many bore the fellow a deal of resentment over debts of honour &C, and that there may be those that he went about to blackmail, and that would have greatly desir’d him gone, I do not think any of our company would be among them. Let us not make this unfortunate accident into some Gothick tale.

You do not think that his wife - ?

'Tis quite remarkable, says I, how wives will cleave to the most dreadfull of husbands, show quite unwarrant’d devotion to the worst of fellows. Does she not appear complete over-set by the event? Sure I would be about dancing upon his grave, was it my husband, but no, she was as if stunn’d and then entire hysterickal.

Now, says I, I have been a fine ride and am quite entire ready for breakfast, rather than wild speculations.

Sandy looks at me for a moment and says, 'twas some considerable while ago, in a matter of German lessons, that you said that you always found yourself inclining to the side of the woman –

My dear! whilst I confide that 'twould greatly maximise felicity to remove certain fellows, I cannot suppose it could justify any universal law.

He gives me a dour Calvinistickal glare.