le she told him this stupendous tale, the minister sat with open
mouth and eyes, gazing on her with more of the air of an idiot than of a
learned and accomplished gentleman.

He was, in fact, utterly amazed and confounded by the story he had
heard.

That Alden Lytton, a young man of the highest social position, of
unblemished reputation from his youth up, an accomplished scholar, a
learned jurist, an eloquent barrister, and, more than all, a Christian
gentleman, should have been guilty of the base treachery and the
degrading crime here charged upon him was just simply incredible--no
more nor less than incredible.

Or that Mary Grey, the loveliest lady of his congregation, should be
capable of a malicious fabrication was utterly impossible.

There was then but one way out of the dilemma: Mary Grey was insane and
suffering under a distressing hallucination that took this form.

So said the look of consternation and pity that the minister fixed upon
the speaker's face.

"I see that you discredit my story, and doubt even my sanity. But here
is something that you can neither doubt nor discredit," she said, as she
drew from her pocket the marriage certificate and placed it in his
hands.

The minister opened and read it. And as he read this evidence of a
"Christian gentleman's" base perfidy the look of consternation and
amazement that had held possession of his countenance gave place to one
of disgust and abhorrence.

"Do you doubt _now_?" meaningly inquired Mary Grey.

"Ah, no, I can not doubt now! I wish to Heaven I could! I would rather,
my child, believe you to be under the influence of a distressing
hallucination than know this man to be the consummate villain this
certificate proves him to be. I can not doubt the certificate. I wish I
could; but I know this Reverend Mr. Borden. On my holiday trips North I
have sometimes stopped at his house and filled his pulpit. I am familiar
with his handwriting. I can not doubt," groaned the minister.

Mary Grey dropped her hands and pretended to sob aloud.

"Do not weep so much, poor child! Deeply wronged as you have been by
this ruthless sinner you have not been so awfully injured as has been
this most unhappy young lady, Miss Cavendish, whom he has deceived to
her destruction," said the minister.

"And do you not suppose that I grieve for _her_ too?" sobbed Mary Grey.

"Ah, yes, I am sure your tender, generous heart, wronged and broken as
it is, has still the power