“Is she not?” demanded the youth, in astonishment.
“I do not know, my boy! I am not sure! But oh, Le! I have never breathed a doubt on this subject to her! And do not you breathe this to any living soul!” solemnly replied the lady.
“Great Sphinx of Egypt!” said the youth to himself. “Have I got to keep the secrets of each one from all the others? And without even having the satisfaction of knowing what the secrets are?”
“Listen to me, Le,” said the lady, kindly. “I have no objection to your corresponding with Odalite while you are on your voyage; but there must be no engagement, or hint of an engagement between you, either before you go or in any of your letters. Moreover, your letters must not be directed immediately to Odalite, but under cover to me.”
“I thank you for even so much grace, Aunt Elfrida; but why may not my letters be directed to Odalite?”
“Because they might get her unjustly and disrespectfully talked about,” said she, evasively.
“But, oh, Aunt Elfrida! why should you doubt that Odalite is free? Why, the fact is abundantly proven.”
“No, dear boy, there is where the trouble is. We think it was proven, but we are not sure. What we are sure of is this—that there was a marriage ceremony performed by special license, and by a regularly ordained minister of the gospel, and in the presence of more than a hundred witnesses, between Angus Anglesea and Odalite Force, and which, if both parties were free to contract marriage at the time, binds them together as man and wife for the term of their natural lives. That is all that we positively know, Le,” gravely replied the lady.
The youth sprang up from his chair with a cry of pain.
“I cannot bear to think of that!” he said, as he dropped again into his seat. “But it cannot be true! The news from St. Sebastian proves that the man was the husband of another woman at the time that he tried to marry your daughter—and that therefore the ceremony was no marriage at all, and she is free.”