After a day or two Caldigate recovered his spirits. We all probably know
how some trouble will come upon us and for a period seem to quell all
that is joyous in our life, and that then by quick degrees the weight of
the trouble will grow less, till the natural spring and vivacity of the
mind will recover itself, and make little or nothing of that which a few
hours ago was felt to be so grievous a burden. So it had been with John
Caldigate. He had been man enough to hold up his head when telling his
story to Robert Bolton, and to declare that the annoyance would be one
that he could bear easily;--but still for some hours after that he had
been unhappy. If by sacrificing some considerable sum of money,--even a
large sum of money, say ten thousand pounds,--he could at that moment
have insured the silence of Crinkett and the woman, he would have paid
his money. He knew the world well enough to be aware that he could
insure nothing by any such sacrifice. He must defy these claimants;--and
then if they chose to come to England with their story, he must bear it
as best he could. Those who saw him did not know that aught ailed him,
and Robert Bolton spoke no word of the matter to any one at Cambridge.

But Robert Bolton thought very much of it,--so much that on the
following day he ran up to London on purpose to discuss the matter with
his brother William. How would it be with them, and what would be his
duty, if the statement made by the woman should turn out to be true?
What security had they after the story told by Caldigate himself that
there had been no marriage? By his own showing he had lived with the
woman, had promised to marry her, had acknowledged his promise in the
hearing of a clergyman, and had been aware that she had called herself
by his name. Then he had given her money to go away. This had been his
own story. 'Do you believe him?' he said to his brother William.

'Yes; I do. In the first place, though I can understand from his
antecedents and from his surroundings at the time, that he should have
lived a loose sort of life when he was out there, I don't think that he
is a rascal or even a liar.'

'One wouldn't wish to think so.'

'I do not think so. He doesn't look like it, or talk like it, or act
like it.'

'How many cases do we know in which some abominable unexpected villainy
has destroyed the happiness and respectability of a family?'

'But what would you do?' asked the barrister. 'She is married to h