A Sudden, Fearful Death

"I thought of her with respect, with trust, with the utmost confidence in her dedication and her ability, but I did not think of her personally." He looked down. "It seems I was grievously in the wrong in that, which I profoundly regret. I have daughters of my own, as you no doubt know, but my profession has kept me so fully occupied that their upbringing has been largely left to their mother. I do not really know the ways of young women as well as I might, as well as many men whose personal lives allow them more time in their homes and with their families than does mine."

There was a whisper and rustle of sympathy around the court.

"It is a price I do not pay willingly." He bit his lip. "And it seems perhaps it may have been responsible for a tragic misunderstanding by Nurse Barrymore. I-I cannot think of any specific remarks I may have made. I really thought only of our patients, but this I do know." His voice dropped and became hard and intense. "I at no time whatever entertained any romantic notions about Miss Barrymore, or said or did anything whatever that was improper or could be construed by an unbiased person to be an advance or expression of romantic intent. Of that I am as certain as I am that I stand here before you in this courtroom."

It was superb. Rathbone himself could not have written anything better.

"Thank you, Sir Herbert. You have explained this tragic situation in a manner I believe we can all understand." He looked at the jury with a rueful gesture. "I myself have experienced embarrassing encounters, and I daresay the gentlemen of the jury may have also. The dreams and priorities in life of young women are at times different from ours, and perhaps we are dangerously, even tragically, insensitive to them." He turned back to the witness stand. "Please remain where you are. I have no doubt my learned friend will have questions to ask you."

He smiled at Lovat-Smith as he walked back to the table and resumed his seat.

Lovat-Smith stood up and straightened his gown before moving across to the center of the floor. He did not look to right or left, but directly up at Sir Herbert.

"In your own words, Sir Herbert, you are not a ladies' man, is that correct?" His voice was courteous, even smooth. There was no hint of panic or defeat in it, just a deference toward a man held in public esteem.

Rathbone knew he was acting. Lovat-Smith was as well aware as he himself how excellent Sir Herbert's testimony had been. All the same his confidence gave Rathbone a twinge of unease.

"No," Sir Herbert said carefully, "I am not."

Rathbone shut his eyes. Please Heaven Sir Herbert would remember his advice now. Say nothing more! Rathbone said over and over to himself. Add nothing. Offer nothing. Don't be led by him. He is your enemy.

"But you must have some considerable familiarity wim the ways of women…" Lovat-Smith said, raising his eyebrows and opening his light blue eyes very wide.

Sir Herbert said nothing.

Rathbone breathed out a sigh of relief.

"You are married, and have been for many years," Lovat-Smith pointed out. "Indeed you have a large family, including three daughters. You do yourself an injustice, sir. I have it on excellent authority that your family life is most contented and well ordered, and you are an excellent husband and father."

"Thank you," Sir Herbert said graciously.

Lovat-Smith's face tightened. There was a faint titter somewhere in the body of the court, instantly suppressed.

"It was not intended as a compliment, sir," Lovat-Smith said sharply. Then he hurried on before there was more laughter. "It was to point out that you are not as unacquainted with the ways of women as you would have us believe. Your relationship with your wife is excellent, you say, and I have no reason to doubt it. At least it is undeniably long and intimate."

Again a titter of amusement came from the crowd, but it was brief and stifled almost immediately. Sympathy was with Sir Herbert; Lovat-Smith realized it and would not make that mistake again.

"Surely you cannot expect me to believe you are an innocent in the nature and affections of women, in the way which they take flattery or attention?'

Now Sir Herbert had no one to guide him as Rathbone had done. He was alone, facing the enemy. Rathbone gritted his teeth.

Sir Herbert remained silent for several minutes.

Hardie looked at him inquiringly.

Lovat-Smith smiled.

"I do not think," Sir Herbert answered at last, lifting his eyes and looking squarely at Lovat-Smith, "that you can reasonably liken my relationship with my wife to that with my nurses, even the very best of them, which undoubtedly Miss Barrymore was. My wife knows me and does not misinterpret what I say. I do not have to be watchful that she has read me aright. And my relationship with my daughters is hardly of the nature we are discussing. It does not enter into it." He stopped abruptly and stared at Lovat-Smith.

Again jurors nodded, understanding plain in their faces.

Lovat-Smith shifted the line of his attack slightly.