Or that Mary Grey, the loveliest lady of his congregation, should be capable of a malicious fabrication was utterly impossible.
There was then but one way out of the dilemma: Mary Grey was insane and suffering under a distressing hallucination that took this form.
So said the look of consternation and pity that the minister fixed upon the speaker's face.
"I see that you discredit my story, and doubt even my sanity. But here is something that you can neither doubt nor discredit," she said, as she drew from her pocket the marriage certificate and placed it in his hands.
The minister opened and read it. And as he read this evidence of a "Christian gentleman's" base perfidy the look of consternation and amazement that had held possession of his countenance gave place to one of disgust and abhorrence.
"Do you doubt now?" meaningly inquired Mary Grey.
"Ah, no, I can not doubt now! I wish to Heaven I could! I would rather, my child, believe you to be under the influence of a distressing hallucination than know this man to be the consummate villain this certificate proves him to be. I can not doubt the certificate. I wish I could; but I know this Reverend Mr. Borden. On my holiday trips North I have sometimes stopped at his house and filled his pulpit. I am familiar with his handwriting. I can not doubt," groaned the minister.
Mary Grey dropped her hands and pretended to sob aloud.
"Do not weep so much, poor child! Deeply wronged as you have been by this ruthless sinner you have not been so awfully injured as has been this most unhappy young lady, Miss Cavendish, whom he has deceived to her destruction," said the minister.
"And do you not suppose that I grieve for her too?" sobbed Mary Grey.