After the examination of the portfolio which she had found in her brother's trunk, Lady Linton's curiosity had been insatiable, and simulating an air of friendliness and resignation which she was far from feeling, she had encouraged him to talk of his wife, hoping thus to learn more of her history, and trap him into acknowledging something of the mystery which surrounded her.
But though Sir William was never loth to talk of his darling, and always spoke of her in the fondest terms, he would never commit himself regarding her past; that was to be a sealed book in England, and not even to his mother and sister would he ever breathe one word of that sad story, that Mr. Abbot had told him when he pleaded for his daughter's hand, or aught that would cast a shadow upon any member of her family.
"She was the daughter of a once wealthy Californian whom reverses had impoverished," he invariably told them. "She was finely educated and fitted, both by nature and culture, to shine in any circle."
"By whom were you married, William?" his mother asked, having at last deigned to show some interest in the circumstance.
"By the Rev. Dr. Thornton, an Episcopalian clergyman
"Of San Francisco?"
"No, of Virginia City;" and Sir William smiled that she was not familiar enough with the geographical location of the place to know that it was not in California at all.
"Oh, then you were not married in San Francisco?" interrupted Lady Linton, looking up eagerly, and hoping now to get something definite regarding that outlandish place in Nevada.
"No," he replied, not thinking it necessary to enter into particulars, and leaving them to infer what they chose.
Her ladyship was baffled again, not daring to press him further lest he should suspect that she had been tampering with his papers.