Mr. Flint, who had been busy with some papers, here approached and glanced at the miniature.
I was utterly confounded, and my partner, I saw, was equally dismayed; and no wonder, entertaining as we both did the highest respect and admiration for the high-minded and beautiful daughter of Major Stewart.
The Widow Thorneycroft's exultation was exuberant.
"As this only legal marriage," said she, "has been blessed with no issue, I am of course, as you must be aware, the legitimate heiress-at-law, as my deceased husband's nearest blood-relative. I shall, however," she added, "take care to amply provide for my widowed niece-in-law."
The young woman made a profound rustic courtesy, and tears of unaffected gratitude, I observed, filled her eyes.
The game was not, however, to be quite so easily surrendered as they appeared to imagine. "Tut! tut!" exclaimed Mr. Flint bluntly—"this may be mere practice. Who knows how the portrait has been obtained?"
The girl's eyes flashed with honest anger. There was no practice about her I felt assured. "Here are other proofs: My husband's signet-ring, left accidentally, I think, with me, and two letters which I from curiosity took out of his coat-pocket—the day, I am pretty sure it was, after we were married."
"If this cumulative circumstantial evidence does not convince you, gentlemen," added the Rev. Mr. Wishart, "I have direct personal testimony to offer. You know Mr. Angerstein of Bath?"
"I do."
"Well, Mr. Henry Thorneycroft or Allerton, was at the time this marriage took place, on a visit to that gentleman; and I myself saw the bridegroom, whom I had united a fortnight previously in Swindon church, walking arm-and-arm with Mr. Angerstein in Sydney Gardens, Bath. I was at some little distance, but I recognized both distinctly, and bowed. Mr. Angerstein returned my salutation, and he recollects the circumstance distinctly. The gentleman walking with him in the uniform of the Gloucestershire Yeomanry was, Mr. Angerstein is prepared to depose, Mr. Henry Thorneycroft or Allerton."