“So many gentlemen complied with his invitations I could not help seeing that I was on this account useful to him, but whether they came ostensibly to hear me sing or to talk, the end was always the same--gaming until the early hours of morning. Still I never dreamed of anything wrong. Had I been a woman of the world instead of a child, I should have seen that there was much glitter but no gold. Among a certain set in society my husband shone as a brilliant, accomplished man; he was the descendant of an old and illustrious family; the heir of a grand old name. His estate, called Pelham Court, was mortgaged to its full value, but the world knew nothing of that, and Sir Alfred Pelham of Pelham Court was, by a certain portion of society, regarded as a most fortunate man. Had I been wiser, I should have understood that he was making use of what little share I had of beauty, and youth, and talent, to attract these men to his house in order to win money from them. I wish, Mr. Eyrle, that I could spare myself the shame of telling, and you of hearing, the rest of my story. Nay, a fear comes to me that you may disbelieve it, believing men cannot be so base. You read every day how men beat and kick their wives to death. Has it ever struck you how small was the punishment for such a crime? Not long since a man in London kicked his young wife, who loved him very dearly, to death, and received the sentence of six months’ imprisonment with hard labor. The same day a man was sentenced to fourteen years’ penal servitude for stealing a few hundred pounds’ worth of jewelry. Can you see any justice in that? Reading it made me think that in this boasted land with its laws, its far-famed systems of administering justice, there is really no justice at all. Bearing in mind all that you have read of the cruelty of men, of their inconstancy, their abuses of good and patient wives, can you doubt what I have to tell you? My husband never struck me; there were no bruises on my arm; but he did what was ten thousand times more cruel--he slew my fair name and branded me before all the world. “It was early in June that there came to visit Sir Alfred one whose name is unhappily associated with mine--the Duke of Launceston. You, who know the world, Mr. Eyrle, know him. He is rich beyond compare and famous for his character, his private life. I cannot judge in all his relations; with me he was courteous, gentle and free from blame. He spent an evening with us; at Sir Alfred’s request I sang to him. He was, or professed himself to be, delighted with my singing, and being fond of music, offered to sing some duets with me.