claimed Mr. Flint bluntly--"this may
be mere practice. Who knows how the portrait has been obtained?"

The girl's eyes flashed with honest anger. There was no practice about
her I felt assured. "Here are other proofs: My husband's signet-ring,
left accidentally, I think, with me, and two letters which I from
curiosity took out of his coat-pocket--the day, I am pretty sure it was,
after we were married."

"If this cumulative circumstantial evidence does not convince you,
gentlemen," added the Rev. Mr. Wishart, "I have direct personal testimony
to offer. You know Mr. Angerstein of Bath?"

"I do."

"Well, Mr. Henry Thorneycroft or Allerton, was at the time this marriage
took place, on a visit to that gentleman; and I myself saw the
bridegroom, whom I had united a fortnight previously in Swindon church,
walking arm-and-arm with Mr. Angerstein in Sydney Gardens, Bath. I was at
some little distance, but I recognized both distinctly, and bowed. Mr.
Angerstein returned my salutation, and he recollects the circumstance
distinctly. The gentleman walking with him in the uniform of the
Gloucestershire Yeomanry was, Mr. Angerstein is prepared to depose, Mr.
Henry Thorneycroft or Allerton."

"You waste time, reverend sir," said Mr. Flint with an affectation of
firmness and unconcern he was, I knew, far from feeling. "We are the
attorneys of Mrs. Rosamond Allerton, and shall, I dare say, if you push
us to it, be able to tear this ingeniously-colored cobweb of yours to
shreds. If you determine on going to law, your solicitor can serve us; we
will enter an appearance, and our client will be spared unnecessary
annoyance."

They were about to leave, when, as ill-luck would have it, one of the
clerks who, deceived by the momentary silence, and from not having been
at home when the unwelcome visitors arrived, believed we were disengaged,
opened the door, and admitted Mrs. Rosamond Allerton and her aunt, Miss
Stewart. Before we could interpose with a word, the Widow Thorneycroft
burst out with the whole story in a torrent of exultant Volubility that
it was impossible to check or restrain.

For awhile contemptuous incredulity, indignant scorn, upheld the assailed
lady; but as proof after proof was hurled at her, reinforced by the grave
soberness of the clergyman and the weeping sympathy of the young woman,
her firmness gave way, and she swooned in her aunt's arms. We should have
more peremptorily interfered but for our unfortunate cli