evidence was not strong enough to convict her son.
"My poor boy, my poor boy! What shall I do! Whatever shall I do!" she wailed continuously, and constant nursing and attention was necessary for her.
The late baronet's will, as she told her son, left everything, except her jointure, to him, if the elder son, Francis, died before his father, and without a legitimate heir. But the question immediately arose, which of them did die first? There was no definite evidence to show this, and this proved to be another factor in producing the lamentable mental and physical condition of Lady Laurence a few days after the tragedy.
My friend Anthony was eventually brought before the magistrate and charged with murder.
Counsel defending him seemed to me to be singularly incapable, and but for my prompting from the seat I had secured behind him, I believe he would have allowed the case to proceed without even pointing out what a sad mistake was being made, and how flimsy the evidence was against the man charged. Yet I had, at the back of my mind, the idea—call it intuition if you like—that Anthony was not keen on making a defence, though I felt certain
