friend, Mr. Arnold
Brinkworth. I beg to present him to you, Mr. Moy as the husband of my
niece--to whom he was lawfully married on the seventh of September last,
at the Church of Saint Margaret, in the parish of Hawley, Kent. I have a
copy of the marriage certificate here--if you wish to look at it."

Mr. Moy's modesty declined to look at it.

"Quite needless, Sir Patrick! I admit that a marriage ceremony took
place on the date named, between the persons named; but I contend that
it was not a valid marriage. I say, on behalf of my client here present
(Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn), that Arnold Brinkworth was married at a date
prior to the seventh of September last--namely, on the fourteenth of
August in this year, and at a place called Craig Fernie, in Scotland--to
a lady named Anne Silvester, now living, and present among us (as I
understand) at this moment."

Sir Patrick presented Anne. "This is the lady, Mr. Moy."

Mr. Moy bowed, and made a suggestion. "To save needless formalities, Sir
Patrick, shall we take the question of identity as established on both
sides?"

Sir Patrick agreed with his learned friend. Lad y Lundie opened and
shut her fan in undisguised impatience. The London solicitor was deeply
interested. Captain Newenden, taking out his handkerchief, and using
it as a screen, yawned behind it to his heart's content. Sir Patrick
resumed.

"You assert the prior marriage," he said to his colleague. "It rests
with you to begin."

Mr. Moy cast a preliminary look round him at the persons assembled.

"The object of our meeting here," he said, "is, if I am not mistaken,
of a twofold nature. In the first place, it is thought desirable, by
a person who has a special interest in the issue of this inquiry" (he
glanced at the captain--the captain suddenly became attentive), "to put
my client's assertion, relating to Mr. Brinkworth's marriage, to the
proof. In the second place, we are all equally desirous--whatever
difference of opinion may otherwise exist--to make this informal inquiry
a means, if possible, of avoiding the painful publicity which would
result from an appeal to a Court of Law."

At those words the gathered venom in Lady Lundie planted its second
sting--under cover of a protest addressed to Mr. Moy.

"I beg to inform you, Sir, on behalf of my step-daughter," she said,
"that we have nothing to dread from the widest publicity. We consent
to be present at, what you call, 'this informal inquiry,' reserv