m extended.

"Irrespectively of the evidence in this case you would not have
thought him to be a man likely to commit such a crime?" asked
Serjeant Birdbolt.

"I am quite sure from my knowledge of the man that he could not
commit a murder," said Lord Chiltern; "and I don't care what the
evidence is."

Then came his wife, and it certainly was a pretty sight to see as her
husband led her up to the box and stood close beside her as she gave
her evidence. There were many there who knew much of the history of
her life,--who knew that passage in it of her early love,--for the
tale had of course been told when it was whispered about that Lady
Chiltern was to be examined as a witness. Every ear was at first
strained to hear her words;--but they were audible in every corner
of the Court without any effort. It need hardly be said that she was
treated with the greatest deference on every side. She answered the
questions very quietly, but apparently without nervousness. "Yes; she
had known Mr. Finn long, and intimately, and had very greatly valued
his friendship. She did so still,--as much as ever. Yes; she had
known him for some years, and in circumstances which she thought
justified her in saying that she understood his character. She
regarded him as a man who was brave and tender-hearted, soft in
feeling and manly in disposition. To her it was quite incredible that
he should have committed a crime such as this. She knew him to be a
man prone to forgive offences, and of a sweet nature." And it was
pretty too to watch the unwonted gentleness of old Chaffanbrass as
he asked the questions, and carefully abstained from putting any one
that could pain her. Sir Gregory said that he had heard her evidence
with great pleasure, but that he had no question to ask her himself.
Then she stepped down, again took her husband's arm, and left the
Court amidst a hum of almost affectionate greeting.

And what must he have thought as he stood there within the dock,
looking at her and listening to her? There had been months in his
life when he had almost trusted that he would succeed in winning that
fair, highly-born, and wealthy woman for his wife; and though he had
failed, and now knew that he had never really touched her heart, that
she had always loved the man whom,--though she had rejected him time
after time because of the dangers of his ways,--she had at last
married, yet it must have been pleasant to him, even in his peril, to
hear fro