Oh, in course! _I_ have no objection, if _you_ have none."

"Pray go on and say what you have to say," urged the duke.

"Then, first of all, I have to tell you that I know why you have come
here. You have come to inquire about Miss Salome Levison, the great
banker's heiress."

"You are speaking of the Duchess of Hereward, madam," interrupted the
duke, in a stern voice.

"No, I'm not. I am speaking of Miss Salome Levison. She is not the
Duchess of Hereward. I don't know but one Duchess of Hereward, and _her
you are ashamed to own_," spitefully added Mrs. Brown.

"You are a woman, aged and insane, and therefore entitled to our utmost
indulgence," said the duke, putting the strongest control upon himself.
"But tell me now, what was your business with the Lady of Lone, upon whom
you called at Elmthorpe House on Tuesday afternoon?"

"I went from your true wife, whom you had betrayed into prison, to your
false wife, to let her know what you were, and to tell her that there was
but one step between herself and ruin!"

"Good Heaven! you did that!" exclaimed the duke, utterly thrown off his
guard.

"Yes, I did! And I showed the young lady your real wife's marriage lines,
all regularly signed and witnessed by the rector of St. Margaret's and
the sexton, and the pew-opener! I did! And there were letters in your own
handwriting, and photographs, the very print of you, which I took along
with the marriage lines, to prove my words when I told her that you had
been married for over a year, and had lived in my house with your wife
all that time!"

"Heaven may forgive you for that great wrong, woman; but I never can!
And--the lady believed you?"

"Of course she did! How could she help it, when she saw all the proofs?
It almost killed her. Indeed, and I think it _did_ quite craze her!
But she saw her duty, and she had the courage to do it! She knew as she
ought to leave you, before the false marriage could go any further. So
she left you. I do really respect her for it!"

"In the name of Heaven, _where_ did she go? Tell me that! Tell me
where to find her, and I may be able to pardon the great wrong you have
done us under some insane error," said the husband of the lost wife,
striving to control his indignation.

"Indeed, then," exclaimed Mrs. Brown, defiantly, "I am not asking any
pardon at all from you, Mr. Scott. It ain't likely as I'll want pardon
from Heaven for doing my duty, much less from _you_, Mr. John Scott.
Oh,