Death had no power to soften their hearts toward her.

Charity had no mantle broad enough to cover her wickedness; filial love was dead, and the good heart of her husband turned away at remembrance with a shudder of horror.
Yes, it was "better so!" They had no grief, but thankfulness, that she was dead.
On the morning after the funeral there came a letter from Havana addressed to Mr.Dinneford.It was from the man Freeling.

In it he related circumstantially all the reader knows about the conspiracy to destroy Granger.

The letter enclosed an affidavit made by Freeling, and duly attested by the American consul, in which he stated explicitly that all the forgeries were made by himself, and that George Granger was entirely ignorant of the character of the paper he had endorsed with the name of the firm.
Since the revelation made to Edith by Freeling's letter to her mother, all the repressed love of years, never dead nor diminished, but only chained, held down, covered over, shook itself free from bonds and the wrecks and debris of crushed hopes.

It filled her heart with an agony of fullness.