Then he would explain.

As he had explained countless times before and she had always believed him. Until the one night, when he'd been into the spirits even more than usual, she had believed. In his drunken state he had told her everything. And he had expected her to laugh with him!

He had not remembered the next morning and she had pretended not to know. Inside she was seething, longing to tell him what she thought of his adultery, but she didn't. It would ruin his surprise and she wouldn't want to do that. That would be unthinkable.

She rose from her seat, deciding to check on the baby. Creeping up the stairs so as not to wake the child, she prayed it would already be asleep. She prayed that it would not scream. The little brat was doing that more and more these days.

Opening the door slightly, she peeked in. Good, she was still asleep, which was the only time she was a beautiful child. She had decided to return to the Parlour when the door hinge squeaked. Suddenly the room was filled with lusty cries.

" Darn it all! "

She rushed to her daughter's side and tried frantically to quiet the child. She found the girl would not respond.

" Melissa, " she mumbled " please! No, don't! "

Groping for support, she felt a pillow beneath her hand. She clutched it to her chest and wondered if she could actually do it. As she decided the answer was yes, she settled the pillow firmly across her only child's face. She noticed how quickly the child quieted. A few minutes later she removed the pillow. Marvelling at the bluish tinge to Melissa's lips, she left the room.

She then heard the sound of the carraige in the street. She licked her bottom lip and felt for the bulge in her dress. Satisfied, she returned to the Parlour.

She heard him stumbling, then fumbling with the lock. He burst into the hall with his arms flaying madly in an effort to maintain his balance.

He saw her sitting there. Just smiling.

"Christine Elizabeth," he breathed heavily, "I can explain. Really, I can."

He groped myopically in her direction. Then he stopped.

" You're mad. I can explain. You wouldn't make me leave? "

" No, Bradford, " she replied gently, " I won't make you leave. "

The sound of the gun ripped through the house.

Christine then sat herself down in the Parlour and smiled to herself.

Then Christine went completely and incurably mad.