“Where are your marriage lines?” asked Tron.
“I hae nane,” replied she. “It was a marriage by giving and taking between ourselves—a gude marriage by the law.”
“And no witnesses?” said Tron.
“The deil ane but the Lord.”
“Wh-e-w!” whistled Father Tron, not audibly, only as it were within the mouth.
“It is very true,” said Father Trinity, as he looked askance at the claimant, and contrasted her in his mind with the other Nelly, who he was satisfied was the real Nelly Pure, “that Mr Andrew Gebbie left that sum of money to a certain Helen Grey, but we have no evidence to show that you are the right woman.”
“The right woman!” ejaculated she, with a bold laugh; “and how could I be the wrong ane, when I cut Andrew Gebbie’s corns for ten years?”
“Oh, a chiropodist!” said Father Tron.
“I’m nae corn-doctor, sir,” replied she, with something like offended pride: “I never cut another man’s corns in my life.”
“We are nearly getting into that lightness of speech which betokeneth vanity,” said another of the brethren. “It is a serious matter; and we must require of you, Mrs Grey—seeing that the marriage cannot, even by your own statement, be taken into account, for want of evidence—to prove that you were upon such terms of friendship with Mr Gebbie as to make it probable that he would leave you this large sum of money.”