"Emma Calvert."
"Ah! And what did you call her, Robert?"
The valet looked at Garth with a look of malicious triumph. "I called her Lady Fellenger," he said slowly.
Garth sprang up with a sudden exclamation, but he was stopped by Fanks, who rapidly questioned the valet. "Was Emma Calvert really and truly the wife of your master?"
"Yes, sir; they were married quietly in a Hampstead church. She was in a dressmaker's shop, and my master was very much in love with her. I heard that she was engaged to another gentleman, but she threw him over, and married Sir Gregory before they went to Paris."
"So rumour was right for once," said Garth, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, whether Gregory was married or single matters little to me. I am not the heir."
"It may matter a great deal to the case," remarked Fanks, dryly. "Perhaps, Robert, you can tell me where Emma Calvert came from?"
"I do not know; my master knew, but he never told me. Lady Fellenger did not speak of her past in my presence."
"And where is she now?"
"Dead; she died in Paris."