xed together the actual and the imaginary until now, what had
possibly been an aimless flirtation on the part of the young man,
unexpectedly discovered by the father, had formed itself into the
tragedy which she had told me.
'Would it not be well,' I suggested, 'to lay the facts before the
present Lord Rantremly?'
'I have done so,' she answered simply.
'With what result?'
'His lordship said my story was preposterous. In examining the late
lord's private papers, he discovered the letter which I typed and
signed. He said very coldly that the fact that I had waited until
everyone who could corroborate or deny my story was dead, united with
the improbability of the narrative itself, would very likely consign
me to prison if I made public a statement so incredible.'
'Well, you know, madam, I think his lordship is right.'
'He offered me an annuity of fifty pounds, which I refused.'
'In that refusal, madam, I think you are wrong. If you take my advice,
you will accept the annuity.'
The woman rose slowly to her feet.
'It is not money I am after,' she said, 'although, God knows, I have
often been in sore need of it. But I am the Countess of Rantremly, and
I wish my right to that name acknowledged. My character has been under
an impalpable shadow for ten years. On several occasions mysterious
hints have reached me that in some manner I left the castle under a
cloud. If Lord Rantremly will destroy the letter which I was compelled
to write under duress, and if he will give me written acknowledgment
that there was nothing to be alleged against me during my stay in the
castle, he may enjoy his money in peace for all of me. I want none of
it.'
'Have you asked him to do this?'
'Yes. He refuses to give up or destroy the letter, although I told him
in what circumstances it had been written. But, desiring to be fair,
he said he would allow me a pound a week for life, entirely through
his own generosity.'
'And this you refused?'
'Yes, I refused.'
'Madam, I regret to say that I cannot see my way to do anything with
regard to what I admit is very unjust usage. We have absolutely
nothing to go upon except your unsupported word. Lord Rantremly was
perfectly right when he said no one would credit your story. I could
not go down to Rantremly Castle and make investigations there. I
should have no right upon the premises at all, and would get into
instant trouble as an interfering trespasser. I beg you to heed my
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