"O Edward, Edward!" she cried, "what is it?"
The rector waited, with his hand still upon the open book. He waited, looking towards the other end of the chancel. He had no need to wait long: a woman, with a black veil thrown back from a white, haggard face, and with dusty garments dragging upon the church–floor, came slowly up the aisle.
Her two hands were clasped upon her breast, and her breath came in gasps, as if she had been running.
"Olivia!" cried Edward Arundel, "what, in Heaven's name––"
But Major Lawford stepped forward, and spoke to the rector.
"Pray let her be got out of the way," he said, in a low voice. "I was warned of this. I was quite prepared for some such disturbance." He sank his voice to a whisper. "She is mad!" he said, close in the rector's ear.
The whisper was like whispering in general,––more distinctly audible than the rest of the speech. Olivia Marchmont heard it.
"Mad until to–day," she cried; "but not mad to–day. O Edward Arundel! a hideous wrong has been done by me and through me. Your wife––your wife––"
"My wife! what of her? She––"
"She is alive!" gasped Olivia; "an hour's walk from here. I came on foot. I was tired, and I have been long coming. I thought that I should be in time to stop you before you got to the church; but I am very weak. I ran the last part of the way––"