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- Мари Корелли
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Thanks
to
my
abundance
of
cash
,
everything
concerning
Sibyl
's
suicide
was
admirably
managed
.
In
consideration
of
her
social
position
as
an
Earl
's
daughter
,
two
doctors
certified
(
on
my
paying
them
very
handsome
fees
)
that
hers
was
a
'
death
by
misadventure
,
'
--
namely
,
through
taking
an
accidental
overdose
of
a
powerful
sleeping
draught
.
It
was
the
best
report
to
make
--
and
the
most
respectable
.
It
gave
the
penny
press
an
opportunity
of
moralizing
on
the
dangers
that
lurked
in
sleeping
draughts
generally
--
and
Tom
,
Dick
,
and
Harry
all
wrote
letters
to
their
favorite
periodicals
(
signing
their
names
in
full
)
giving
their
opinions
as
to
the
nature
of
sleeping
draughts
,
so
that
for
a
week
at
least
the
ordinary
dullness
of
the
newspapers
was
quite
enlivened
by
ungrammatical
gratis
'
copy
.
'
The
conventionalities
of
law
,
decency
and
order
were
throughout
scrupulously
observed
and
complied
with
--
everybody
was
paid
(
which
was
the
chief
thing
)
,
and
everybody
was
,
I
believe
,
satisfied
with
what
they
managed
to
make
out
of
the
death-payment
.
The
funeral
gave
joy
to
the
souls
of
all
undertakers
--
it
was
so
expensive
and
impressive
.
The
florist
's
trade
gained
something
of
an
impetus
by
the
innumerable
orders
received
for
wreaths
and
crosses
made
of
the
costliest
flowers
.
When
the
coffin
was
carried
to
the
grave
,
it
could
not
be
seen
for
the
load
of
blossoms
that
covered
it
.
And
amid
all
the
cards
and
'
loving
tokens
'
and
'
farewell
dearests
'
and
'
not-lost-but-gone-befores
'
--
that
ticketed
the
white
masses
of
lilies
,
gardenias
and
roses
which
were
supposed
to
symbolize
the
innocence
and
sweetness
of
the
poisoned
corpse
they
were
sent
to
adorn
,
there
was
not
one
honest
regret
--
not
one
unfeigned
expression
of
true
sorrow
.
Lord
Elton
made
a
sufficiently
striking
figure
of
dignified
parental
woe
,
but
on
the
whole
I
think
he
was
not
sorry
for
his
daughter
's
death
,
since
the
only
opposing
obstacle
to
his
marriage
with
Diana
Chesney
was
now
removed
.
I
fancy
Diana
herself
was
sorry
,
so
far
as
such
a
frivolous
little
American
could
be
sorry
for
anything
--
perhaps
,
however
it
would
be
more
correct
to
say
that
she
was
frightened
.
Sibyl
's
sudden
end
startled
and
troubled
her
--
but
I
am
not
sure
that
it
grieved
her
.
There
is
such
a
difference
between
unselfish
grief
,
and
the
mere
sense
of
nervous
personal
shock
!
Miss
Charlotte
Fitzroy
took
the
news
of
her
niece
's
death
with
that
admirable
fortitude
which
frequently
characterizes
religious
spinsters
of
a
certain
age
.
She
put
by
her
knitting
--
said
'
God
's
will
be
done
!
'
and
sent
for
her
favorite
clergyman
.
He
came
,
stayed
with
her
some
hours
drinking
strong
tea
--
and
the
next
morning
at
church
administered
to
her
communion
.
This
done
,
Miss
Fitzroy
went
on
the
blameless
and
even
tenor
of
her
way
,
wearing
the
same
virtuously
distressed
expression
as
usual
,
and
showed
no
further
sign
of
feeling
.
I
,
as
the
afflicted
millionaire-husband
,
was
no
doubt
the
most
interesting
figure
on
the
scene
;
I
was
,
I
know
very
well
got
up
,
thanks
to
my
tailor
,
and
to
the
affectionate
care
of
the
chief
undertaker
who
handed
me
my
black
gloves
on
the
day
of
the
funeral
with
servile
solicitude
,
but
in
my
heart
I
felt
myself
to
be
a
far
better
actor
than
Henry
Irving
,
and
if
only
for
my
admirable
mimicry
of
heart-break
,
more
fully
worthy
of
the
accolade
.
Lucio
did
not
attend
the
obsequies
--
he
wrote
me
a
brief
note
of
sympathy
from
town
,
and
hinted
that
he
was
sure
I
could
understand
his
reasons
for
not
being
present
.
I
did
understand
,
of
course
--
and
appreciated
his
respect
,
as
I
thought
,
for
me
and
my
feelings
--
yet
strange
and
incongruous
as
it
may
seem
,
I
never
longed
so
much
for
his
company
as
I
did
then
!
However
--
we
had
a
glorious
burial
of
my
fair
and
false
lady
--
prancing
horses
drew
coroneted
carriages
in
a
long
defile
down
the
pretty
Warwickshire
lanes
to
the
grey
old
church
,
picturesque
and
peaceful
,
where
the
clergyman
and
his
assistants
in
newly-washed
surplices
,
met
the
flower-laden
coffin
,
and
with
the
usual
conventional
mumblings
,
consigned
it
to
the
dust
.
There
were
even
press-reporters
present
,
who
not
only
described
the
scene
as
it
did
not
happen
,
but
who
also
sent
fancy
sketches
,
to
their
respective
journals
,
of
the
church
as
it
did
not
exist
.
I
mention
this
simply
to
show
how
thoroughly
all
"
proper
forms
"
were
carried
out
and
conceded
to
.
After
the
ceremony
all
we
"
mourners
"
went
back
to
Willowsmere
to
luncheon
,
and
I
well
remember
that
Lord
Elton
told
me
a
new
and
risqué
joke
over
a
glass
of
port
before
the
meal
was
finished
.
The
undertakers
had
a
sort
of
festive
banquet
in
the
servants
'
hall
--
and
taking
everything
into
due
consideration
,
my
wife
's
death
gave
a
great
deal
of
pleasure
to
many
people
,
and
put
useful
money
into
several
ready
pockets
.
She
had
left
no
blank
in
society
that
could
not
be
easily
filled
up
--
she
was
merely
one
butterfly
out
of
thousands
,
more
daintily
coloured
perhaps
and
more
restless
in
flight
--
but
never
judged
as
more
than
up
to
the
butterfly
standard
.
I
said
no
one
gave
her
an
honest
regret
,
but
I
was
wrong
.
Mavis
Clare
was
genuinely
,
almost
passionately
grieved
.
She
sent
no
flowers
for
the
coffin
,
but
she
came
to
the
funeral
by
herself
,
and
stood
a
little
apart
waiting
silently
till
the
grave
was
covered
in
--
and
then
,
just
as
the
"
fashionable
"
train
of
mourners
were
leaving
the
churchyard
,
she
advanced
and
placed
a
white
cross
of
her
own
garden-lilies
upon
the
newly-turned
brown
mould
.
I
noticed
her
action
,
and
determined
that
before
I
left
Willowsmere
for
the
East
with
Lucio
(
for
my
journey
had
only
been
postponed
a
week
or
two
on
account
of
Sibyl
's
death
)
she
should
know
all
.
The
day
came
when
I
carried
out
this
resolve
.
It
was
a
rainy
and
chill
afternoon
,
and
I
found
Mavis
in
her
study
,
sitting
beside
a
bright
log
fire
with
her
small
terrier
in
her
lap
and
her
faithful
St
Bernard
stretched
at
her
feet
.
She
was
absorbed
in
a
book
--
and
over
her
watched
the
marble
Pallas
inflexible
and
austere
.
As
I
entered
she
rose
,
and
putting
down
the
volume
and
her
pet
dog
together
,
she
advanced
to
meet
me
with
an
intense
sympathy
in
her
clear
eyes
,
and
a
wordless
pity
in
the
tremulous
lines
of
her
sweet
mouth
.
It
was
charming
to
see
how
sorry
she
felt
for
me
--
and
it
was
odd
that
I
could
not
feel
sorry
for
myself
.
After
a
few
words
of
embarrassed
greeting
I
sat
down
and
watched
her
silently
,
while
she
arranged
the
logs
in
the
fire
to
make
them
burn
brighter
,
and
for
the
moment
avoided
my
gaze
.
"
I
suppose
you
know
,
"
--
I
began
with
harsh
abruptness
--
"
that
the
sleeping-draught
story
is
a
polite
fiction
?
You
know
that
my
wife
poisoned
herself
intentionally
?
"
Mavis
looked
at
me
with
a
troubled
and
compassionate
expression
.
"
I
feared
it
was
so
--
"
...
she
began
nervously
.
"
Oh
there
is
nothing
either
to
fear
or
to
hope
"
--
I
said
with
some
violence
--
"
She
did
it
.
And
can
you
guess
why
she
did
it
?
Because
she
was
mad
with
her
own
wickedness
and
sensuality
--
because
she
loved
with
a
guilty
love
,
my
friend
Lucio
Rimânez
.
"
