‘Thank God!’ she said, clasping her hands instinctively together.
‘We must not be too sanguine: and yet, of course, a dead man’s diary is evidence itself in a way.’
‘Tell me,’ she cried, with excitement, ‘tell me what papa said.’
‘Nearly twenty years ago,’ said the Rector, with a little emotion. ‘It’s like hearing the old man talk—with abrupt sentences, don’t you know—just as he spoke.’
‘What does he say? What does he say, James?’
‘This is the one, I think; no, it’s the next—no. I hope I haven’t brought the wrong ones after all.’
Lady William sat very quietly with her hands on her knee, only her fingers, which clasped and unclasped each other, showing a little the excitement of the suspense in which she was, as he drew forth one little book after another from the ample pockets of his coat. At last the right one was found, and then a minute or two elapsed before the Rector with his spectacles could find the entry of which he was in search. Lady William made no attempt to snatch it from his hand. She sat quite still with a self-enforced patience which was belied by the glitter in her eyes.
‘Here it is at last—October 23rd. Would that be the date?’
She bowed her head quickly, and her brother began to divine that she could not speak. He gave her a keen look, and then returned to the book.
‘“October 23rd.—Very agitating and extraordinary night. Em. came home after midnight accompanied by woman M., and Lord W. Extraordinary explanations. Marriage immediately or not at all. Leaving England. Gave consent.” Is that right?’