“I shall ring the bell, sir, if you do not be seated immediately. I asked when you returned?”
“An hour ago, my Lady—less than an hour ago. I did not dare to write; and then I wished to be myself the bearer of my own good news.”
“What good news are these?”
“That I have, if not won my suit, secured the victory. The registries have been discovered—found in the very spot indicated in the journal. The entries are complete; and nothing is wanting to establish the legality of the marriage. Oh, I entreat you, do not listen to me so coldly! You know well for what reason I prize this success. You know well what gives its brightest lustre in my eyes.”
“Pray be narrative now—the emotional can be kept for some other time. Who says that this means success?”
“My lawyer, Mr. Kelson. He calls the suit won. He proves his belief, for he has advanced me money to pay off my debt to Longworth, and to place me in a position of ease and comfort.”
“And what is Kelson; is he one of the judges?”
“Of course not. He is one of the leading solicitors of London; a very grave, thoughtful, cautious man. I have shown you many of his letters. You must remember him.”
“No; I never remember people; that is, if they have not personally interested me. I think you have grown thin. You look as if you had been ill.”
“I have fretted a good deal,—worried myself; and my anxiety about you has made me sleepless and feverish.”