“I went at once to the address in the letter—No. 10 Lincoln’s Inn. I found him there, and somewhat surprised to see me.
“‘I had no idea you would answer my letter in person, Lady Pelham,’ he said. ‘Sir Alfred is in town; I met him this morning.’
“‘I came because I wish to consult you on several matters. First of all, let us settle about my aunt’s legacy.’
“We did so. He told me the exact amount—how it should be invested; and I asked him to take my affairs in hand. Then I told him there was another and far graver matter on which I wished to consult him.
“‘I want to ask you,’ I said, ‘not only to be my lawyer, but my friend. Some people might laugh at the notion. I only say to you that I am the most desolate, the most wretched woman on the face of the earth. Will you be my friend?’
“He looked at me in utter surprise.
“‘Your husband, Lady Pelham, where is he?’
“‘He is my persecutor. I will tell you my story, Mr. Hewson. I ask you, strange, cruel, and incredible as it is, to believe me.’
“Then I gave him the letters I had received, and told him all that had passed. He looked incredulous.
“‘Pardon me, Lady Pelham,’ he said, ‘but is it really true?’