Rathbone considered objecting, but it was not worth the trouble. The remark had already been made, and its impact would be less than that of Zillah herself. One could feel the sympathy for her filling the room. Even the gallery was totally silent. If anyone had been disposed to laugh or feel any sense of satisfaction in her misfortune, either they had changed their minds or they had sensed the atmosphere and wisely concealed it.
"Miss Lambert," Sacheverall continued, "was Mr. Melville fully aware of all the wedding plans and arrangements?"
She sounded surprised. "Of course."
"He was present when you discussed such matters as the choice of church? He was consulted in that, wasn't he?"
"Yes, of course he was." She gazed back at him. "Do you imagine we would arrange such a thing without making certain of his feelings?"
"No, I do not, Miss Lambert, but Sir Oliver seems to have considered it the case." His very slight sneer derided it. "Did Mr. Melville at any time give you the slightest idea he was going to break your agreement?" He jerked his head in Melville's direction.
"No," she said simply.
"And has he since offered you any reason for his behavior?" Sacheverall persisted.
"No." She was having difficulty restraining her emotions and it was plain for everyone to see. Some of the jurors were staring at her intently, others were embarrassed for her and did not wish to seem to intrude into her distress. If Sacheverall was not careful he would risk losing their sympathy towards himself. Perhaps that did not matter to him, as long as he retained it for her. What Rathbone knew of his reputation suggested he was a man who wished to win, even if it should be at considerable cost.
Sacheverall bit his lip and made some show of reluctance.
"Miss Lambert, has he given you any reason for his actions, any reason at all?"
"No," she said so quietly it was barely audible.
The judge leaned forward but he did not ask her to repeat it.
"Only one more question, Miss Lambert," Sacheverall promised. "Have you any idea whatever why he has done this? Have you done anything at all to give him cause? Is there anything he could have discovered about your situation, your family or your personal conduct which could explain it or justify it?"
"That is at least three questions, Mr. Sacheverall," the judge pointed out.
"It will require only one answer, my lord," Sacheverall said with a wave of his hands. "After that the witness is Sir Oliver's."
"Miss Lambert?" the judge prompted.
"No, my lord, I know of nothing," she assured him.
Sacheverall shrugged and looked back towards the jury, then Rathbone. "Sir Oliver, your witness."
Rathbone rose to his feet. "Thank you, Mr. Sacheverall. I feel you have made my point for me." He smiled, largely to unnerve Sacheverall and irritate him. Then he turned to Zillah, still smiling, but now gently. He walked towards her and looked up, his expression mild. "Miss Lambert, you have just told my learned friend that you know of no reason whatever why Mr. Melville should have broken your engagement to marry. There is no shadow of any kind upon your family, your financial position, or your personal reputation."
There was a murmur of resentment from the gallery and the jurors' faces darkened.
Rathbone continued to smile. "I have no cause to doubt that what you say is the truth, absolutely. Have you a quick temper, Miss Lambert, or a sulky disposition?"
She looked surprised. "I don't think so, sir. No one has ever suggested such a thing to me."
"Are you disposed to gossip, perhaps?"
"No sir. I consider it a vicious habit."
Again there was a rustle of dislike from the gallery and several of the jurors were glaring at him.
Judge McKeever frowned, but he did not interrupt.
Melville was drumming his fingers tensely.
Sacheverall looked more and more satisfied.
"And is your health good?" Rathbone continued. "You do not have any chronic problems, no more than the usual afflictions that upset us all from time to time?"
"No sir, my health is excellent." She still looked totally bemused.
"Your patience with my intrusiveness is witness to your equable temper and your good nature, Miss Lambert," Rathbone said gently. "And it is apparent to any of us here that you are of a remarkably pleasing appearance." He disregarded her blush. "And becoming modesty. Oh... I forgot to ask, are you extravagant?"
She looked down at her hands. "No sir, I am not."
"And your father's abundant success ensures your financial position. In all you seem to me