CHAPTER THE FORTY-FOURTH.

THE LAW OF MARRIAGE.

One of my first proceedings, after my return, was to ascertain how the
English law stood with regard to Olivia's position. Fortunately for me,
one of Dr. Senior's oldest friends was a lawyer of great repute, and he
discussed the question with me after a dinner at his house at Fulham.

"There seems to be no proof against the husband of any kind," he said,
after I had told him all.

"Why!" I exclaimed, "here you have a girl, brought up in luxury and
wealth, willing to brave any poverty rather than continue to live with
him."

"A girl's whim," he said; "mania, perhaps. Is there insanity in her
family?"

"She is as sane as I am," I answered. "Is there no law to protect a wife
against the companionship of such a woman as this second Mrs. Foster?"

"The husband introduces her as his cousin," he rejoined, "and places her
in some little authority on the plea that his wife is too young to be
left alone safely in Continental hotels. There is no reasonable
objection to be taken to that."

"Then Foster could compel her to return to him?" I said.

"As far as I see into the case, he certainly could," was the answer,
which drove me nearly frantic.

"But there is this second marriage," I objected.

"There lies the kernel of the case," he said, daintily peeling his
walnuts. "You tell me there are papers, which you believe to be
forgeries, purporting to be the medical certificate, with corroborative
proof of her death. Now, if the wife be guilty of framing these, the
husband will bring them against her as the grounds on which he felt free
to contract his second marriage. She has done a very foolish and a very
wicked thing there."

"You think she did it?" I asked.

He smiled significantly, but without saying any thing.

"I cannot!" I cried.

"Ah! you are blind," he replied, with the same maddening smile; "but let
me return. On the other hand, _if_ the husband has forged these papers,
it would go far with me as strong presumptive evidence against him, upon
which we might go in for a divorce, not a separation merely. If the
young lady had remained with him till she had collected proof of his
unfaithfulness to her, this, with his subsequent marriage to the same
person during her lifetime, would probably have set her absolutely
free."

"Divorced from him?" I said.

"Divorce," he repeated.

"But what can be done now?" I asked.

"All you can do," he answered, "is