the intake of breath as she appeared, and then the hush of expectancy as Lovat-Smith rose to begin his questions. Surely such a woman must have something of great import to say.
"Lady Ross Gilbert," Lovat-Smith began. He did not know how to be deferential-something in his character mocked the very idea-but there was respect in his voice, whether for her or for the situation. "You are on the Board of Governors of the hospital. Do you spend a considerable time there?"
"I do." Her voice was vibrant and very clear. "I am not there every day, but three or four in the week. There is a good deal to be done."
"I am sure. Most admirable. Without the generous gift of service of people like yourself, such places would be in a parlous state," Lovat-Smith acknowledged, although whether that was true was debatable. He spent no further effort on the thought. "Did you see Prudence Barrymore often?"
"Of course. The moral welfare and the standards and duties of nurses were a matter I was frequently asked to address. I saw poor Prudence on almost every occasion I was there." She looked at him and smiled, waiting for the next obvious question.
"Were you aware that she worked very frequently with Sir Herbert Stanhope?"
"Of coarse." There were the beginnings of regret in her voice. 'To begin with I assumed it was merely coincidence, because she was an excellent nurse."
"And later?" Lovat-Smith prompted.
She lifted one shoulder in an eloquent posturei "Later I was forced to realize that she was devoted to him."
"Do you mean more than could be accounted by the duties that would fall to her because of her skill?" Lovat-Smith phrased the question carefully, avoiding any slip that would allow Rathbone to object.
"Indeed," Berenice said with a modest share of reluctance. "It became obvious that her admiration for him was intense. He is a fine surgeon, as we all know, but Prudence's devotion to him, the extra duties she performed of her own volition, made it unmistakable that her feelings were more than merely professional, no matter how dedicated and conscientious."
"Did you see evidence that she was hi love with Sir Herbert?" Lovat-Smith asked it with a gentle, unassuming voice, but his words carried to the very back of the room in the total silence.
"Her eyes lit at mention of him, her skin glowed, she gained an extra, inward energy." Berenice smiled and pulled a slightly rueful face. "I can think of no other explanation when a woman behaves so."
"Nor I," Lovat-Smith admitted. "Given the moral welfare of nurses was your concern, Lady Ross Gilbert, did you address her on the subject?"
"No," she said slowly, as if still giving the matter thought. 'To be frank I never saw evidence that her morality was in jeopardy. To fall in love is part of the human condition." She looked quizzically beyond Lovat-Smith to the public benches. "If it is misplaced, and hopeless of any satisfactory conclusion, it is sometimes safer for the morals than if it is returned." She hesitated, affecting discomfort. "Of course at that time I had no idea the whole affair would end as it has."
Not once had she looked at Sir Herbert opposite in the dock, although his eyes never left her face.
"You say that Prudence's love was misplaced." Lovat-Smith was not yet finished. "Do you mean by that that Sir Herbert did not return her feelings?"
Berenice hesitated, but it appeared it was a pause to find exactly the right words rather than because she was uncertain of her belief.
"I am less skilled at reading the emotions of men than of women, you understand..."
There was a murmur around the room, whether of belief or doubt it was impossible to say. A juror nodded sagely.
Rathbone had the distinct impression she was savoring the moment of drama and her power to hold and control her audience.
Lovat-Smith did not interrupt.
"He asked for her on every occasion he required a skilled nurse," she said slowly, each word falling distinctly into the bated hush. "He worked closely with her over long hours, and at times without any other person present." She spoke without ever looking across at him, her eyes fixed on Lovat-Smith.
"Perhaps he was unaware of her personal emotions toward him?" Lovat-Smith suggested without a shred of conviction. "Is he a foolish man, in your experience?"
"Of course not! But-"
"Of course not," he agreed, cutting her off before she could add her explanation. "Therefore you did not consider it necessary to warn him?"