“I must ask—I really must ask that you do not be so hasty in your conclusions whilst I am speaking, Colonel Ogilvie. You must understand that I am only explaining the law; not even giving any opinion of my own. The terminology of Scot’s Law is peculiar, and differs from English law in such matters. For instance what in English law is ‘Plaintiff and Defendant’ becomes with us ‘Pursuer and Defender.’ There may be a female as well as a male Pursuer. Thus on the grounds of present consent as there is ample proof of Matrimonial Consent of either and both parties—sufficient for either to use against the other. I take it that the Court would hold the marriage proved; unless both parties repudiated the Intent. This I am sure would never be; for if there were any mutual affection neither would wish to cause such gossip as would inevitably ensue. And if either party preferred that the union should continue, either from motives of love or interest, the marriage could be held good. And I had better say at once, since it is a matter to be considered by any parent, that should there have been any valid ground for what you designate as ‘scandal,’ such would in the eyes of the law be only the proper and necessary completion of the act of marriage. And let me say also that the fact of the two parties, thus become one by the form of Irregular Marriage, having passed the night in this suite of rooms without bolt of fastening on the connecting door would be taken by a Court as proof of consummation. No matter by what entanglement of events—no matter how or by what accident or series of accidents the two parties came into this juxtaposition!
“There is but one other point to be considered regarding the validity of this marriage. It is that of compliance with the terms of Lord Brougham’s Act of 1856. The man has undoubted domicile in Scotland for certain legal purposes. But the marriage law requires a further and more rigid reading of residence than mere possession of estates. The words are that one of the parties to the marriage must ‘have his or her usual place of residence’ in this Country. But as I have shown you that in Lord Athlyne’s case his living in Scotland for several weeks in one or other of his own houses would be certainly construed by any Court as compliance with the Act, I do not think that any question of legality could arise. Indeed it is within my own knowledge that as a Scottish peer—Baron of Ceann-da-Shail—who declared Scottish domicile on reaching his majority and whose ‘domicile of origin’ was not affected by his absence as an officer in foreign service, his status for the purpose of Scottish marriage is unassailable.
“In fine let me point out that I am speaking altogether of proof of the marriage itself. The actual marriage is in law the consent of the parties; and such has undoubtedly taken place. The only possible condition of its nullity would be the repudiation of the implied Consent by both of the parties. One alone would not be sufficient!
“And now, Colonel Ogilvie, as I believe it will be well that you and the two young people should consider the situation from this point of view, will you allow me to withdraw—still on the supposition that you will join me later at breakfast. And if this merry lady”—pointing to Judy who had gained composure sufficiently to hear the end of his explanation—“will honour me by coming to my sitting-room, just below this, where breakfast will be served, it may perhaps be better. I take it that you will be all able to speak more freely, you and your daughter—and her husband!”
He withdrew gracefully, giving his arm to Judy who having risen bashfully had taken his extended arm. She was blushing furiously.
The door closed behind him, leaving Joy standing between her father and Athlyne, and holding an arm of each.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE HATCHET BURIED
For a few minutes there was silence in the room; silence so profound that every sound of the street was clearly heard. Even the shutting of the Sheriff’s door in the room below was distinct.
The first to speak was Colonel Ogilvie. Athlyne, who would have liked to break the silence refrained through prudence; he feared that were he to speak before Colonel Ogilvie did, that easily-irate gentleman might take offence. He knew that this might be disastrous, for it would renew the old strife in an acute form; as it was, there were distinct indications of coming peace. Joy, and Joy alone, was to be thought of now. By this time Athlyne was beginning to get the measure of Colonel Ogilvie’s foot. He realised that the dictatorial, vindictive, blood-thirsty old man would perhaps do much if left to himself; but that if hindered or thwarted or opposed in any way his pride or his vanity—and they were united in him—would force him to keep his position at any cost.
“Well, sir?” The tone was so peremptory and so “superior” that any man to whom it had been used might well have taken offence; but Athlyne was already schooled to bear, and moreover the statement made by the Sheriff filled his heart with such gladness that he felt that he could bear anything. As Joy was now his wife he could not quarrel with her father—nor receive any quarrel from him. Still, all the same, he felt that he must support and maintain his own independent position; such would be the best road to ultimate peace. Moreover, he had his own pride; and as he had already made up his mind to die if need be for Joy’s sake, he could not go back on that resolution without seeming to be disloyal to her. There would—could—be no hiding anything from her as she had already heard the whole of the quarrel and of his acquiescence to her father’s challenge. No one, however, would have thought he had any quarrel who heard his reply, spoken in exquisitely modulated accents of respect: