Trembling and pale, and almost overwhelmed by the trials of the day, she opened the library door and entered in.
Judge Wylie was standing there awaiting her. Judge Jacky’s usually jubilant face was now overcast and troubled as he advanced to meet Alice, took her hand, led her to a settee, and seated himself beside her. He pressed her hand with paternal kindness and said, gravely and gently:
“My dear Mrs. Garnet, you will pardon the liberty about to be taken by your oldest friend.”
“For Heaven’s sake—what has——” happened, she was about to ask, but the words died on her pale lips.
“Do not be alarmed, my dear Mrs. Garnet. Nothing has occurred since the marriage—you perceive that I know all about it. But it is to warn you—to put you upon your guard against something about to occur, that I come to you this evening.”
“For God’s sake—what? what?”
“Be easy. Nothing that you have not in your full power to avert by a little firmness.”
“For Heaven’s sake, explain yourself, Judge Wylie.”
“You know something, I presume, of the Maryland laws of property, of inheritance, and of marriage?”
“No, no; I know nothing about it.”