his so doing would be agreeable
to my Lord and my Lady.

He found that if Lady Walwyn was still inclined to regret that the
Frenchwoman was so entirely a wife, and thought Berenger had been very
hasty and imprudent, yet that the old Lord was chiefly distressed at
the cruel injustice he had so long been doing this poor youth thing.
A strong sense of justice, and long habit of dignified self-restraint,
alone prevented Lord Walwyn from severely censuring Mr. Adderley for
misrepresentations; but the old nobleman recollected that Walsingham had
been in the same story, and was too upright to visit his own vexation on
the honestly-mistaken tutor.

However, when Berenger made his appearance in the study, looking as
if not one right, but weeks, had been spent in recovering health and
spirit, the old man's first word was a gentle rebuke for his having been
left unaware of how far matters had gone; but he cut short the attempted
reply, but saying he knew it was chiefly owing to his own over-hasty
conclusion, and fear of letting his grandson injure himself by vainly
discussing the subject. Now, however, he examined Berenger closely on
all the proceedings Paris and at Montpipeau, and soon understood that
the ceremony had been renewed, ratifying the vows taken in infancy. The
old statesman's face cleared up at once; for, as he explained, he had
now no anxieties as to the validity of the marriage by English law, at
least, in spite of the decree from Rome, which, as he pointed out to his
grandson, was wholly contingent on the absence of subsequent consent,
since the parties had come to an age for free-will. Had he known of
this, the re-marriage, he said, he should certainly have been less
supine. Why had Berenger been silent?

'I was commanded, sir. I fear I have transgressed the command by
mentioning it now. I must pray you to be secret.'

'Secret, foolish lad. Know you not that the rights of your wife and your
children rest upon it?' and as the change in Berenger's looks showed
that he had not comprehended the full importance of the second ceremony
as nullifying the papal sentence, which could only quash the first on
the ground of want of mutual consent, he proceeded, 'Command, quotha?
Who there had any right to command you, boy?'

'Only one, sir.'

'Come, this no moment for lover's folly. It was not the girl, then? Then
it could no other than the miserable King--was it so?'

'Yes, sir,' said Berenger. 'He bade me as king, an