“‘Sir Alfred Pelham has run through one of the finest fortunes in England,’ he continued. ‘He has literally nothing left, for Pelham Court is mortgaged to its full value. He owes large sums of money, and, in my opinion, he had brought this charge against you merely to get large damages from the Duke of Launceston. He will employ clever and eloquent counsel, who will make thrilling speeches about his broken heart and ruined home; all you can do is to defend yourself.’
“‘He cannot be so infamous,’ I cried; ‘no man could—it is worse than murder! Better have slain me than seek to destroy my fair name. Who is to defend me?’
“‘If you like to leave the conduct of your defense in my hands, I will undertake it,’ he replied.
“And I cried to him, in my distress, that I would give Sir Alfred all my aunt’s money if he would but forego this cruel persecution.
“‘Do not make any such offer, Lady Pelham,’ he replied; ‘to those who do not know you it sounds like guilt.’
“He did me one more service, greater than any other he could have rendered me; he introduced me to his sister, who was kind enough to love me when no one else did, and has cared for me ever since.”
“Lady Pelham,” interrupted Kenelm Eyrle, “do you assure me that this infamous, diabolical story is true?”
“It is true,” she replied, “as are the stars in heaven. Patience a few minutes longer; I shall soon have told you all.”
CHAPTER XLIV.
A WOMAN’S SHAME.
“Right against might does not always prevail.