"Is this not your reason for coming to town?"
"There is nothing—that I know of—about the heir to a peerage. Who is this heir to a peerage? I don't know what you mean, but you frighten me. Is that a reason why I should be dragged out of my seclusion and made to appear in his defence? Oh, no—surely no; if he is that, they will let him off. They will not press it. I shall not be wanted. John, the more reason that you should stand by me——"
"We are at cross-purposes, Elinor. What has brought you to London? Let me know on your side and then I shall understand what I have got to do."
"That has brought me to London." She handed him a piece of paper which John knew very well the appearance of. He understood it better than she did, and he was not afraid of it, which she was, but he opened it all the same with a great deal of surprise. It was a subpœna charging Elinor Compton to appear and bear testimony—in the case of the Queen versus Brown.
"The Queen versus Brown! What have you got to do with such a case? You, Elinor, of all people in the world! Oh!" he said suddenly as a light, but a dim one, began to break upon him. It was the case of which his friend the judge had spoken, and in which he had been offered a retainer, as a matter of fact, shortly after that talk. He had been obliged to refuse, his time being already fully taken up, and he had not looked into the case. But now it began slowly to dawn upon him that the trial was that of the once absconded manager of a certain joint-stock company, and that this was precisely the company in which Elinor's money had been all but invested by her husband. It might be upon that subject that she had to appear.
"Well," he said, "I can imagine a possible reason why you should be called, and yet not a good one; for it was not of course you who were acting, but your—husband for you. It is he that should appear, and not you."
"Oh, John," she cried. "Oh, John!" wringing her hands. She had followed his looks eagerly, noticing the light that seemed to dawn over his face with a strange anxiety and keen interest. But John, it was evident, had not got the clue which she expected, and her face changed into impatience, disappointment, exasperation. "You have not heard anything about it," she said; "you don't know."
"It was brought to me," he said, "but I could not take it up—no, I don't know—except that it's curious from the lapse of time—twenty years or thereabouts: that's all I know."
"The question is," she said, "about a date. There were some books destroyed, and it is not known who did it. Suspicion fell upon one—who might have been guilty: but that on that day—he arrived at the house of the girl—whom he was going to marry: and consequently could not have been there——"
"Elinor!"