Husband and wife looked at each other; it was a desperate chance, a desperate remedy. For one moment each thought of the sanctity of the marriage tie, and all that was involved in the breaking of it. Each thought how terribly their only son must suffer if this law was enforced.
Then my lady's face hardened and the earl knew what was to follow.
"It remains for us, then, Mr. Sewell," she said, "to take the needful steps."
"Yes, you must make an appeal to the High Court, and the marriage will be at once set aside," said Mr. Sewell. "It is a terrible thing for the young wife, though."
"She should have had more sense than to have married my son," cried my lady. "I have pity for my son—none for her."
"I think it would be more fair to tell Lord Chandos what you intend doing," said Mr. Sewell. "Not that he could make either resistance or defense—the law is absolute."
"What will the end be?" asked my lady.
"The marriage will be declared null and void; they will be compelled to separate now; but again he has the remedy in his own hand. If he chooses to remain true and constant to her, the very next day after he becomes of age he can remarry her, and then she becomes his lawful wife; if he forgets her the only remedy for her would be money compensation."
"It shall be the business of my life to see that he does forget her," said my lady.
"You can commence proceedings at once," said Mr. Sewell. "You can file your petition to-morrow."