He was determined that Mr. Wingfield and the cause which he had at heart should not suffer by his display of a most unusual courtesy.

The next day all England was discussing the case of the new Enoch Arden. They would have discussed the case throughout the length and breadth of the land simply on account of the romantic elements that it contained, even if the lady who played so important a part in it had been an ordinary young person; but as she was a lady whose achievements during the last byelection had been directly under the eye of the public, the interest in the romance was immeasurably increased. The representative of the Press agency who had the handling of the story from the first, had not found it necessary to embellish in any way the account of his interview with Marcus Blaydon in the morning or with Mr. Wingfield in the afternoon. After alluding to the mystery suggested by Mr. Blaydon’s remark, published in connection with his reappearance in the land of the living the previous day, he described how he had waited upon Mr. Blaydon to try to convince him that the painful matters which had necessitated his making a voyage to England could scarcely fail to be of interest to newspaper readers; and how he had succeeded in convincing Mr. Blaydon of the correctness of his contention. Mr. Blaydon had then described the incidents associated with his escape from destruction; how he had been cast upon the rocks in his attempt to carry a line ashore, and how he had lain there for some days, with practically nothing to eat, and apparently suffering from such internal injuries as prevented him from reaching the house where those of his messmates who had survived the terrible night were being so hospitably treated.

Then, according to his own account, it occurred to Mr. Blaydon that the chance of his life had come—such a chance as comes but too rarely to an unfortunate man who has acted foolishly, but is anxious to redeem the past—the chance of beginning life over again. He was well aware, he said, that he would be reported as dead, and that was just what he wished for: to be dead to all the world, so that he might have another chance of succeeding in life without being handicapped by his unhappy past.

So Mr. Blaydon’s story went on, telling how he had just made a start in this new life of his, when by chance he came upon an English newspaper, referring to the fact that the gentleman who had agreed to contest the Nuttingford division of Nethershire at the by-election had just married the daughter of Mr. Wadhurst of Athalsdean Farm. Then, and only then, did he, the narrator, perceive that he would have acted more wisely if he had written to the lady who believed herself to be his widow, apprising her of the fact of his being alive, and endeavouring to make for himself a name that she might bear without a blush. (Mr. Blaydon was well acquainted, it appeared, with the phraseology of the repentant sinner of the Drury Lane autumn drama.)

“What was my duty when I heard that my wife had gone through the ceremony of marriage with another man?” That was the question which perplexed Mr. Blaydon, as a conscientious man anxious not to diverge a hair’s breadth from the line of Duty—strict duty. Well, perhaps some people might blame him; but he confessed that the thought of his dear wife—the girl whom he had wooed and won very little more than a year before—going to another man and living with him believing herself to be his wife, was too much for him. He made up his mind that so shocking a situation could not be allowed to continue, and he had made his way back to her side, only, alas! to be repulsed and turned out of her house with contempt, though the fact that her father had received him with the open arms of a father in welcoming the return of the prodigal, proved that even in these days, etc., etc.

Stripped of all emotional verbiage, Mr. Blaydon’s statements simply amounted to a declaration of his intention to apply to the court to make an order to restore to him his conjugal rights in respect of the lady who was incontestably his lawful wife.

Following this was the account of an interview with Mr. Wingfield, M.P., who, it appeared, had already taken action in the matter on behalf of the lady referred to by Mr. Blaydon. The interviewer succeeded in conveying to a reader something of what he termed the “breezy colloquial style” of Mr. Wingfield, in the latter’s references to the Enoch Ardenism of Mr. Blaydon; but very little appeared in the account of the interview that had not actually taken place at the interview itself. Readers of the newspapers were made fully acquainted with the fact that Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb had already made a move in the case, and that the invaluable services of Sir Edward had been retained for the lady, and also that the lady was living at Overdean Manor House, which chanced to be the residence of Mr. Wingfield, M.P., and that it was her intention to remain there for a period that was not defined by the writer. He refrained from even the suggestion that the period might be “till the case is decided by the court.”

The remainder of the column was occupied by a pleasant description of Overdean Manor Park in early August, with a quotation from the “Highways and Byways” series, and a brief account of the Wingfield family.

Of course, in addition to these particulars which appeared in most of the newspapers, the illustrated dailies contained a reproduction of the recently-used “blocks” of Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield on their now celebrated election campaign, as well as some entirely new photographs of the Manor House, and Athalsdean Farm, the birthplace of “Mrs. Wingfield”—nearly all the newspapers referred to Priscilla as Mrs. Wingfield, inside quotation marks; but three or four omitted the quotation marks, and an equal number, who were sticklers for strict accuracy, called her Mrs. Blaydon, though one of them half apologised for its accuracy by adding “as we suppose we must call the unfortunate lady.”

The comments on the romantic features of the case which were to be read in different type in the columns devoted to the leading articles, were all of that character which is usually described as “guarded.” The writers excused their want of definiteness on the ground that it would be grossly improper for anyone to offer such a comment as might tend to prejudice a judge or jury in the suits which would occupy the attention of the law courts during the Michaelmas sittings. It was quite enough for the writers to point out some of the remarkable features of the whole romance, beginning with the arrest of Marcus Blaydon when in the act of leaving the church where the wedding had taken place—most of the articles dealt very tenderly with this episode—and going on to refer to the impression produced on the court by the appeal for mercy to the judge made by Marcus Blay-don’s counsel on the ground of his recent marriage to a charming and accomplished girl to whom he was devoted, and who would certainly suffer far more than the prisoner himself by his incarceration—an appeal which the judge admitted had influenced him in pronouncing his very mild sentence of imprisonment.