"Had Sir Hector a brother, then? Has he come in for the title, and are you his wife?" Claudia asked all these questions in one breath.
"Oh dear me, no, Miss Lemby. I was Sir Hector's wife, and I am his widow. I see that your father has kept you quite in the dark. Why, I don t know." Lady Wyke laughed in an amused manner, and selected a comfortable chair. "As you have sat down, Miss Lemby, I presume that I may sit also."
Claudia had indeed sunk into a chair, as the announcement took her so greatly by surprise that she was unable to stand. "Are you in earnest?" she asked her visitor, and taking no notice of the last remark.
"Of course I am in earnest. If you doubt me, you can see Mr. Sandal, who will show you my marriage certificate, and will tell you that, as Sir Hector's widow, I inherit all his property."
"But Sir Hector was engaged to marry me," stammered the girl, feeling dazed.
Lady Wyke waved her daintily-gloved hands airily. "Ah, poor man. He believed that I was dead, and that he was free to marry again. I learnt from a society newspaper in America, that such was the case, and came over to tell him not to commit bigamy. For that reason he postponed the wedding, and retired to Hedgerton."
"But why did he not tell me?" asked Claudia, growing crimson with anger. "Well, my dear"--Lady Wyke shrugged her elegant shoulders--"it might be that he hoped to gain time and think matters over. Perhaps he would have divorced me, although without cause he could not have done so. Perhaps he might have murdered me."
"I think he has behaved very badly!" cried the girl, with great indignation.
"All men behave badly, Miss Lemby; they can't help themselves. But as Sir Hector is dead, suppose we say no more about the matter. After all"--she raised her glasses--"you don't look very broken-hearted."
"I am not," Claudia assured her. "I never loved your husband."