His lawyer went over to the table at which Sir Patrick sat. Sir
   Patrick handed him the sheet of note-paper.
   He read the two letters contained in it with absorbed and
   deliberate attention. The moments that passed before he lifted
   his head from his reading seemed like hours. "Can you prove the
   handwritings?" he asked. "And prove the residence?"
   Sir Patrick took up a second morsel of paper lying ready under
   his hand.
   "There are the names of persons who can prove the writing, and
   prove the residence," he replied. "One of your two witnesses
   below stairs (otherwise useless) can speak to the hour at which
   Mr. Brinkworth arrived at the inn, and so can prove that the lady
   for whom he asked was, at that moment, Mrs. Geoffrey Delamayn.
   The indorsement on the back of the note-paper, also referring to
   the question of time, is in the handwriting of the same
   witness--to whom I refer you, when it suits your convenience to
   question him."
   "I will verify the references, Sir Patrick, as matter of form. In
   the mean time, not to interpose needless and vexatious delay, I
   am bound to say that I can not resist the evidence of the
   marriage."
   Having replied in those terms he addressed himself, with marked
   respect and sympathy, to Anne.
   "On the faith of the written promise of marriage exchanged
   between you in Scotland," he said, "you claim Mr. Geoffrey
   Delamayn as your husband?"
   She steadily repented the words after him.
   "I claim Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn as my husband."
   Mr. Moy appealed to his client. Geoffrey broke silence at last.
   "Is it settled?" he asked.
   "To all practical purposes, it is settled."
   He went on, still looking at nobody but Anne.
   "Has the law of Scotland made her my wife?"
   "The law of Scotland has made her your wife."
   He asked a third and last question.
   "Does the law tell her to go where her husband goes?"
   "Yes."
   He laughed softly to himself, and beckoned to her to cross the
   room to the place at which he was standing.
   She obeyed. At the moment when she took the first step to
   approach him, Sir Patrick caught her hand, and whispered to her,
   "Rely on me!" She gently pressed his hand in token that she
   understood him, and advanced to Geoffrey. At the same moment,
   Blanche rushed between them, and flung her arms around Anne's
   neck.
   "Oh, Anne! Anne!"
   An hysterical passion of tears choked her utterance. Anne gently
   unwound the arms that clung round her--gently lifted the head
   that lay helpless on her bosom.
   "Happier days are coming, my love," she said. "Don't think of
   _me._"
   She kissed her--looked at her--kissed her again--and placed her
   in her husband's arms. Arnold remembered her parting words at
   Craig Fernie, when they had wished each other good-night. "You
   have not befriended an ungrateful woman. The day may yet come
   when I shall prove it." Gratitude and admiration struggled in him
   which should utter itself first, and held him speechless.
   She bent her head gently in token that she understood him. Then
   she went on, and stood before Geoffrey.
   "I am here," she said to him. "What do you wish me to do?"
   A hideous smile parted his heavy lips. He offered her his arm.
   "Mrs. Geoffrey Delamayn," he said. "Come home."
   The picture of the lonely house, isolated amidst its high walls;
   the ill-omened figure of the dumb woman with the stony eyes and
   the savage ways--the whole scene, as Anne had pictured it to him
   but two days since, rose vivid as reality before Sir Patrick's
   mind. "No!" he cried out, carried away by the generous impulse of
   the moment. "It shall _not_ be!"
   Geoffrey stood impenetrable--waiting with his offered arm. Pale
   and resolute, she lifted her noble head--called back the courage
   which had faltered for a moment--and took his arm. He led her to
   the door. "Don't let Blanche fret about me," she said, simply, to
   Arnold as they went by. They passed Sir Patrick next. Once more
   his sympathy for her set every other consideration at defiance.
   He started up to bar the way to Geoffrey. Geoffrey paused, and
   looked at Sir Patrick for the first time.
   "The law tells her to go with her husband," he said. "The law
   forbids you to part Man and Wife."
   True. Absolutely, undeniably true. The law sanctioned the
   sacrifice of her as unanswerably as it had sanctioned the
   sacrifice of her mother before her. In the name of Morality, let
   him take her! In the interests of Virtue, let her get out of it
   if she can!
   Her husband opened the door. Mr. Moy laid his hand on Sir
   Patrick's arm. Lady Lundie, Captain Newenden, the London lawyer,
   all left their places, influenced, for once, by the same
   interest; feeling, for once, the same suspense. Arnold followed
   them, supporting his wife. For one memorable instant Anne looked
   back at them all. Then she and her husband crossed the threshold.
   They descended the stairs together. The opening and closing of
   the house door was heard. They were gone.
   Done, in the name of Morality. Done, in the interests of Virtue.
   Done, in an age of progress, and under the most perfect
   government on the face of the earth.
   FIFTEENTH SCENE.--HOLCHESTER HOUSE.
   CHAPTER THE FORTY-SEVENTH.
   THE LAST CHANCE.
   "HIS lordship is dangerously ill, Sir. Her ladyship can receive
   no visitors."
   "Be so good as to take that card to Lady Holchester. It is
   absolutely necessary that your mistress should be made
   acquainted--in the interests of her younger son--with something
   which I can only mention to her ladyship herself."
   The two persons speaking were Lord Holchester's head servant and
   Sir Patrick Lundie. At that time barely half an hour had passed
   since the close of the proceedings at Portland Place.
   The servant still hesitated with the card
    in his hand. "I shall forfeit my situation," he said, "if I do
   it."
   "You will most assuredly forfeit your situation if you _don't_ do
   it," returned Sir Patrick. "I warn you plainly, this is too
   serious a matter to be trifled with."
   The tone in which those words were spoken had its effect. The man
   went up stairs with his message.
   Sir Patrick waited in the hall. Even the momentary delay of
   entering one of the reception-rooms was more than he could endure
   at that moment. Anne's happiness was hopelessly sacrificed
   already. The preservation of her personal safety--which Sir
   Patrick firmly believed to be in danger--was the one service
   which it was possible to render to her now. The perilous position
   in which she stood toward her husband--as an immovable obstacle,
   while she lived, between Geoffrey and Mrs. Glenarm--was beyond
   the reach of remedy. But it was still possible to prevent her
   from becoming the innocent cause of Geoffrey's pecuniary ruin, by
   standing in the way of a reconciliation between father and son.
					     					 			br />
   Resolute to leave no means untried of serving Anne's interests,
   Sir Patrick had allowed Arnold and Blanche to go to his own
   residence in London, alone, and had not even waited to say a
   farewell word to any of the persons who had taken part in the
   inquiry. "Her life may depend on what I can do for her at
   Holchester House!" With that conviction in him, he had left
   Portland Place. With that conviction in him, he had sent his
   message to Lady Holchester, and was now waiting for the reply.
   The servant appeared again on the stairs. Sir Patrick went up to
   meet him.
   "Her ladyship will see you, Sir, for a few minutes."
   The door of an upper room was opened; and Sir Patrick found
   himself in the presence of Geoffrey's mother. There was only time
   to observe that she possessed the remains of rare personal
   beauty, and that she received her visitor with a grace and
   courtesy which implied (under the circumstances) a considerate
   regard for _his_ position at the expense of her own.
   "You have something to say to me, Sir Patrick, on the subject of
   my second son. I am in great affliction. If you bring me bad
   news, I will do my best to bear it. May I trust to your kindness
   not to keep me in suspense?"
   "It will help me to make my intrusion as little painful as
   possible to your ladyship," replied Sir Patrick, "if I am
   permitted to ask a question. Have you heard of any obstacle to
   the contemplated marriage of Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn and Mrs.
   Glenarm?"
   Even that distant reference to Anne produced an ominous change
   for the worse in Lady Holchester's manner.
   "I have heard of the obstacle to which you allude," she said.
   "Mrs. Glenarm is an intimate friend of mine. She has informed me
   that a person named Silvester, an impudent adventuress--"
   "I beg your ladyship's pardon. You are doing a cruel wrong to the
   noblest woman I have ever met with."
   "I can not undertake, Sir Patrick, to enter into your reasons for
   admiring her. Her conduct toward my son has, I repeat, been the
   conduct of an impudent adventuress."
   Those words showed Sir Patrick the utter hopelessness of shaking
   her prejudice against Anne. He decided on proceeding at once to
   the disclosure of the truth.
   "I entreat you so say no more," he answered. "Your ladyship is
   speaking of your son's wife."
   "My son has married Miss Silvester?"
   "Yes."
   She turned deadly pale. It appeared, for an instant, as if the
   shock had completely overwhelmed her. But the mother's weakness
   was only momentary The virtuous indignation of the great lady had
   taken its place before Sir Patrick could speak again. She rose to
   terminate the interview.
   "I presume," she said, "that your errand here is as an end."
   Sir Patrick rose, on his side, resolute to do the duty which had
   brought him to the house.
   "I am compelled to trespass on your ladyship's attention for a
   few minutes more," he answered. "The circumstances attending the
   marriage of Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn are of no common importance. I
   beg permission (in the interests of his family) to state, very
   briefly, what they are."
   In a few clear sentences he narrated what had happened, that
   afternoon, in Portland Place. Lady Holchester listened with the
   steadiest and coldest attention. So far as outward appearances
   were concerned, no impression was produced upon her.
   "Do you expect me," she asked, "to espouse the interests of a
   person who has prevented my son from marrying the lady of his
   choice, and of mine?"
   "Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn, unhappily, has that reason for resenting
   his wife's innocent interference with interests of considerable,
   importance to him," returned Sir Patrick. "I request your
   ladyship to consider whether it is desirable--in view of your
   son's conduct in the future--to allow his wife to stand in the
   doubly perilous relation toward him of being also a cause of
   estrangement between his father and himself."
   He had put it with scrupulous caution. But Lady Holchester
   understood what he had refrained from saving as well as what he
   had actually said. She had hitherto remained standing--she now
   sat down again. There was a visible impression produced on her at
   last.
   "In Lord Holchester's critical state of health," she answered, "I
   decline to take the responsibility of telling him what you have
   just told me. My own influence has been uniformly exerted in my
   son's favor--as long as my interference could be productive of
   any good result. The time for my interference has passed. Lord
   Holchester has altered his will this morning. I was not present;
   and I have not yet been informed of what has been done. Even if I
   knew--"
   "Your ladyship would naturally decline," said Sir Patrick, "to
   communicate the information to a stranger."
   "Certainly. At the same time, after what you have said, I do not
   feel justified in deciding on this matter entirely by myself. One
   of Lord Holchester's executors is now in the house. There can be
   no impropriety in your seeing him--if you wish it. You are at
   liberty to say, from me, that I leave it entirely to his
   discretion to decide what ought to be done."
   "I gladly accept your ladyship's proposal."
   Lady Holchester rang the bell at her side.
   "Take Sir Patrick Lundie to Mr. Marchwood," she said to the
   servant.
   Sir Patrick started. The name was familiar to him, as the name of
   a friend.
   "Mr. Marchwood of Hurlbeck?" he asked.
   "The same."
   With that brief answer, Lady Holchester dismissed her visitor.
   Following the servant to the other end of the corridor, Sir
   Patrick was conducted into a small room--the ante-chamber to the
   bedroom in which Lord Holchester lay. The door of communication
   was closed. A gentleman sat writing at a table near the window.
   He rose, and held out his hand, with a look of surprise, when the
   servant announced Sir Patrick's name. This was Mr. Marchwood.
   After the first explanations had been given, Sir Patrick
   patiently reverted to the object of his visit to Holchester
   House. On the first occasion when he mentioned Anne's name he
   observed that Mr. Marchwood became, from that moment, specially
   interested in what he was saying.
   "Do you happen to be acquainted with the lady?" he asked
   "I only know her as the cause of a very strange proceeding, this
   morning, in that room." He pointed to Lord Holchester's bedroom
   as he spoke.
   "Are you at liberty to mention what the proceeding was?"
   "Hardly--even to an old friend like you--unless I felt it a
   matter of duty, on my part, to state the circumstances. Pray go
   on with what you were saying to me. You were on the point of
   telling me what brought you to this house."
   Without a word more of preface, Sir Patrick told him the news of
   Geoffrey's marriage to Anne.
   "Married!" cried Mr. Marchwood. "Are you sure of what you say?"
 
					     					 			
   "I am one of the witnesses of the marriage."
   "Good Heavens! And Lord Holchester's lawyer has left the house!"
   "Can I replace him? Have I, by any chance justified you in
   telling me what happened this morning in the next room?"
   "Justified me? You have left me no other alternative. The doctors
   are all agreed in dreading apoplexy--his lordship may die at any
   moment. In the lawyer's absence, I must take it on myself. Here
   are the facts. There is the codicil to Lord
    Holchester's Will which is still unsigned."
   "Relating to his second son?"
   "Relating to Geoffrey Delamayn, and giving him (when it is once
   executed) a liberal provision for life."
   "What is the object in the way of his executing it?"
   "The lady whom you have just mentioned to me."
   "Anne Silvester!"
   "Anne Silvester--now (as you tell me) Mrs. Geoffrey Delamayn. I
   can only explain the thing very imperfectly. There are certain
   painful circumstances associated in his lordship's memory with
   this lady, or with some member of her family. We can only gather
   that he did something--in the early part of his professional
   career--which was strictly within the limits of his duty, but
   which apparently led to very sad results. Some days since he
   unfortunately heard (either through Mrs. Glenarm or through Mrs.
   Julius Delamayn) of Miss Silvester's appearance at Swanhaven
   Lodge. No remark on the subject escaped him at the time. It was
   only this morning, when the codicil giving the legacy to Geoffrey
   was waiting to be executed, that his real feeling in the matter
   came out. To our astonishment, he refused to sign it. 'Find Anne
   Silvester' (was the only answer we could get from him); 'and
   bring her to my bedside. You all say my son is guiltless of
   injuring her. I am lying on my death-bed. I have serious reasons
   of my own--I owe it to the memory of the dead--to assure myself
   of the truth. If Anne Silvester herself acquits him of having
   wronged her, I will provide for Geoffrey. Not otherwise.' We went
   the length of reminding him that he might die before Miss
   Silvester could be found. Our interference had but one result. He
   desired the lawyer to add a second codicil to the Will--which he
   executed on the spot. It directs his executors to inquire into
   the relations that have actually existed between Anne Silvester
   and his younger son. If we find reason to conclude that Geoffrey
   has gravely wronged her, we are directed to pay her a
   legacy--provided that she is a single woman at the time."
   "And her marriage violates the provision!" exclaimed Sir Patrick.
   "Yes. The codicil actually executed is now worthless. And the
   other codicil remains unsigned until the lawyer can produce Miss
   Silvester. He has left the house to apply to Geoffrey at Fulham,
   as the only means at our disposal of finding the lady. Some hours
   have passed--and he has not yet returned."
   "It is useless to wait for him," said Sir Patrick. "While the
   lawyer was on his way to Fulham, Lord Holchester's son was on his
   way to Portland Place. This is even more serious than you
   suppose. Tell me, what under less pressing circumstances I should
   have no right to ask. Apart from the unexecuted codicil what is
   Geoffrey Delamayn's position in the will?"
   "He is not even mentioned in it."
   "Have you got the will?"
   Mr. Marchwood unlocked a drawer, and took it out.
   Sir Patrick instantly rose from his chair. "No waiting for the
   lawyer!" he repeated, vehemently. "This is a matter of life and
   death. Lady Holchester bitterly resents her son's marriage. She
   speaks and feels as a friend of Mrs. Glenarm. Do you think Lord
   Holchester would take the same view if he knew of it?"
   "It depends entirely on the circumstances."
   "Suppose I informed him--as I inform you in confidence--that his