sserting that no such marriage ever took place at Swindon or
anywhere else.
No stone, as people say, was left unturned by us, in the hope of
discovering some clue that might enable us to unravel the tangled web of
coherent, yet, looking at the character of young Mr. Allerton,
_improbable_ circumstance. We were unsuccessful, and unfortunately many
other particulars which came to light but deepened the adverse complexion
of the case. Two respectable persons living at Swindon were ready to
depose on oath that they had on more than one occasion seen Maria
Emsbury's sweetheart with Mr. Angerstein at Bath--once especially at the
theatre, upon the benefit-night of the great Edmund Kean, who had been
playing there for a few nights.
The entire case, fully stated, was ultimately laid by us before eminent
counsel--one of whom is now, by the by, a chief-justice--and we were
advised that the evidence as set forth by us could not be contended
against with any chance of success. This sad result was communicated by
me to Mrs. Allerton, as she still unswervingly believed herself to be,
and was borne with more constancy and firmness than I had expected. Her
faith in her husband's truth and honor was not in the slightest degree
shaken by the accumulated proofs. She would not, however, attempt to
resist them before a court of law. Something would, she was confident,
thereafter come to light that would vindicate the truth, and confiding in
our zeal and watchfulness, she, her aunt, and children, would in the
meantime shelter themselves from the gaze of the world in their former
retreat at Lausanne.
This being the unhappy lady's final determination, I gave the other side
notice that we should be ready on a given day to surrender possession of
the house and effects in South Audley Street, which the Widow
Thorneycroft had given up to her supposed niece-in-law and family on
their arrival in England, and to re-obtain which, and thereby decide the
whole question in dispute, legal proceedings had already been commenced.
On the morning appointed for the purpose--having taken leave of the
ladies the day previously--I proceeded to South Audley Street, to
formally give up possession, under protest, however. The niece and aunt
were not yet gone. This, I found, was owing to Martin, who, according to
the ladies, was so beside himself with grief and rage that he had been
unable to expedite as he ought to have done, the packing intrusted to his
care
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