Mr. Fred Scott took his departure, glad no doubt to do so, carrying with him a hint from Mrs. Cramp that for the present his visits must cease, unless he should be required to give evidence at the inquest. As he went out, Mr. Paul and Tom Chandler came in together. Tom, strong in plain common-sense, could not at all understand it.
"Passion must have overbalanced her reason and driven her mad," he said aside to me. "The taunts of that Dawson girl did it, I reckon."
"Moonshine," answered Tom Chandler. "Juliet, poor girl, had gone in for too many flirtations to care much for Scott. As to that golden-haired one, _her_ life is passed in nothing else: getting out of one love affair into another, month in, month out. Her brother Tim once told her so in my presence. No, Johnny, it is a terrible calamity, but I shall never understand how she came to do it as long as I live."
I was not sure that I should. Juliet was very practical: not one of your moaning, sighing, die-away sort of girls who lose their brains for love, like crazy Jane. It was a dreadful thing, whatever might have been the cause, and we were all sorry for Mrs. Cramp. Nothing had stirred us like this since the death of Oliver Preen.
Georgiana Chandler came flying over from Birmingham in a state of excitement. Cherry Dawson had gone then, or Georgie might have shaken her to pieces. When put up, Georgie had a temper of her own. Cherry had disappeared into the wilds of Devonshire, where her home was, and where she most devoutly hoped Juliet's ghost would not find its way.
"It is an awful thing to have taken place in your house, Aunt Mary Ann. And why unhappy, ill-fated Juliet should have--but I can't talk of it," broke off Georgie.
"I know that I am ashamed of its having happened here, Georgiana," assented Mrs. Cramp. "I am not alluding to the sad termination, but to that parcel of nonsense, the sweethearting."
"Clementina is more heartless than an owl over it," continued Georgie, making her remarks. "She says it serves Juliet right for her flirting folly, and she hopes Cherry will be haunted till her yellow curls turn grey."
The more they dragged, the less chance there seemed of finding Juliet. Nothing came up but eels. It was known that the eel-pond had a hole or two in it which no drags could penetrate. Gloom settled down upon us all. Mrs. Cramp's healthy cheeks lost some of their redness. One day, calling at Crabb Cot, she privately told us that the trouble would lie upon her for ever. The best word Tod gave to it was--that he would go a day's march with peas in his shoes to see a certain lady hanging by her golden hair on a sour apple tree.