"You're giving me quite a good idea of her," he said. Then carelessly: "But she must have realised that after such a shock--and the strain----"
"Oh, it was much worse for Clare," she broke in quickly. "Think--her special pupil! She had had such hopes of Louise. And Clare's so terribly sensitive--she was getting it on her mind. Do you know, she almost began to think it was her fault, not to have seen what was going on? Once, she was absolutely frantic with depression, poor darling, until I made her understand that, if it was any one's, it must be mine. Of course, when I told her everything, how I'd guessed Louise was pretty miserable, and tried to tell her again and then funked it--well, then she saw. As she said, if I'd only spoken out.... She was very kind--but, of course, I soon felt that she thought I was responsible--indirectly--for the whole thing----" Her voice quavered.
Roger, watching her simple face, wanted to do something vigorous. At that moment it would have given him great satisfaction to have interviewed Miss Hartill. Failing that, he wanted to take Alwynne by the shoulders and shake the nonsense out of her. He repressed himself, however. He was in his way, as simple as Alwynne, but where she was merely direct, he was shrewd. He knew that she must show him all the weeds that were choking her before he could set about uprooting them and planting good seed in their stead.
"But even then, though I had been neglectful--oh, Roger, what made Louise do it? Just then? She looked happier! It couldn't have been anything I'd said! I know I cheered her up. It's inconceivable! She was smiling, contented--and she went straight upstairs and killed herself!"
"Inconceivable, as you say. You're sure--of your facts!"
"I mean--you were the last person to see her?"
"Of course," he said, "she tells you everything."
"Besides, Clare was in the mistresses' room."
"Impossible for her to have spoken with Louise?"
"Yet there remains the fact that Louise was, as you say, happier after seeing you. Within fifteen minutes, she is dead. Either she went mad--which I don't believe, do you?"
"But you don't--knowing the child. Neither do I, from what you tell me. She seems to have been horribly sane. Sane enough, anyhow, to throw off a burden. So if, as we agree, she didn't suddenly go mad--something occurred to change her mood of comparative happiness to actual despair. I think, if you ask me, that she did see Miss Hartill after she left you."