o myself that I would die sooner than accept any lower
name; but when I found that I was a mother, then I swore that I would
live till my child should bear the name that of right belonged to
her."

"She does bear it now."

"What name does she propose to bear? I would sooner be poor, in
beggary,--still fighting, even without means to fight, for an empty
title,--still suffering, still conscious that all around me regarded
me as an impostor, than conquer only to know that she, for whom all
this has been done, has degraded her name and my own. If she does
this thing, or, if she has a mind so low, a spirit so mean, as to
think of doing it, would it not be better for all the world that she
should be the bastard child of a rich man's kept mistress, than the
acknowledged daughter of an earl, with a countess for her mother, and
a princely fortune to support her rank? If she marries this man, I
shall heartily wish that Lord Lovel had won the case. I care nothing
for myself now. I have lost all that. The king's message will comfort
me not at all. If she do this thing I shall only feel the evil we
have done in taking the money from the Earl. I would sooner see her
dead at my feet than know that she was that man's wife;--ay, though
I had stabbed her with my own hand!"

The Serjeant for the nonce could say nothing more to her. She had
worked herself into such a passion that she would listen to no words
but her own, and think of nothing but the wrong that was still being
done to her. He put her down at the hall door in Keppel Street,
saying, as he lifted his hat again, that Mrs. Bluestone should come
and call upon her.

CHAPTER XXXII.

WILL YOU PROMISE?

The news of the verdict was communicated the same evening to Lady
Anna,--as to whose name there could now no longer be any dispute. "I
congratulate you, Lady Anna," said the Serjeant, holding her hand,
"that everything as far as this trial is concerned has gone just as
we could wish."

"We owe it all to you," said the girl.

"Not at all. My work has been very easy. In fact I have some feeling
of regret that I have not been placed in a position that would enable
me to earn my wages. The case was too good,--so that a poor aspiring
lawyer has not been able to add to his reputation. But as far as you
are concerned, my dear, everything has gone as you should wish. You
are now a very wealthy heiress, and the great duty devolves upon
you of disposing of your wealth in a f