"If I were not so puzzled, or if there was anybody—" she said. "If you could only advise me; I must—I must keep safe."
"There is something you want to tell me?" he said quietly.
"Yes," she answered. "I am so anxious, and I am sure it must be bad for one to be anxious always. I have not dared to tell anyone. My name is not Mrs. Jameson, Dr. Warren. I am—I am Lady Walderhurst."
He barely managed to restrain a start. He was obliged to admit to himself that he had not thought of anything like this. But Mary had been right.
Emily blushed to her ears with embarrassment. He did not believe her.
"But I am really," she protested. "I really am. I was married last year. I was Emily Fox-Seton. Perhaps you remember."
She was not flighty or indignant. Her frank face was only a little more troubled than it had been before. She looked straight into his eyes without a doubt of his presently believing her. Good heavens! if—
She walked to the writing-table and picked up a number of letters. They were all stamped with the same seal. She brought them to him almost composedly.
"I ought to have remembered how strange it would sound," she said in her amenable voice. "I hope I am not doing wrong in speaking. I hope you won't mind my troubling you. It seemed as if I couldn't bear it alone any longer."
After which she told him her story.