"The 26th of December, mademoiselle." "May I ask," she said, "what Sir Edgar has thought of doing for me? Doubtless Lady Thesiger will have advised him. This has been my home for many years, and is my only home now. Has the question been considered? In the event of Sir Edgar bringing a young wife here, what is to become of me?" There was a mocking smile on her beautiful face; her dark eyes flashed from one to the other of us; we felt uncomfortable. She had just hit upon the weak point that disturbed us all, the one cloud in a clear sky. As no one else seemed inclined to speak, I answered: "Everything will be done for your comfort, Coralie; you may be sure of that, for Sir Barnard's sake." "And not for my own?" she said. "What is your idea of comfort, Sir Edgar? Do you propose offering me a little cottage and a few pounds per week? That would not content me." She looked so imperial, so beautiful, that I wondered involuntarily what would content her, she who might have anything. "Whatever you yourself think right, Coralie, you shall have." I saw a strong disapproval in Lady Thesiger's face, and Coralie's quick eyes, following mine, read the same. "Ah!" she said, hastily, "Lady Thesiger does not approve of carte blanche to ambitious cousins." Lady Thesiger really restrained herself; she was tempted to speak--I saw that--but refrained. "The best plan," said Sir John, calmly, "would be for Mademoiselle d'Aubergne to say what she herself wishes." "I will tell you," she replied, "what I claim." Then, as we looked up at her in wonder, she continued, with bland calmness: "I claim as my own and right, on the part of my infant son, the whole of the estate and revenues of Crown Anstey. I claim, as widow of the late Miles Trevelyan, Esq., my share of all due to me at his death." A thunder-bolt falling in our midst would not have alarmed us as those words did. Sir John looked sternly at her. "In the name of heaven, what do you mean?" "Just what I say, Sir John. I was the wife, and am now the widow, of the late Miles Trevelyan, Esq." "But that is monstrous!" he cried. "Miles was never married." "Miles was married to me, Sir John." "But we must have proof; your word goes for nothing. There must be indisputable proof of such an assertion." She smiled with quiet superiority. "Knowing with whom I have to contend, it is not probable that I should assert anything false. I am prepared to prove everything I say." My darling's face grew white as death. I was bewildered. If this were true--oh, my God! if it were true--fortune, love and everything else were lost. "Where were you married?" asked Sir John. "At Edgerton--St. Helen's, Edgerton. The Rev. Henry Morton married us, and the two witnesses were Sarah Smith, who was my maid, and Arthur Ireton, who was head game-keeper here at Crown Anstey." It was so quickly told and so seemingly correct, we looked at each other in amaze.