It became impossible for the Countess and her daughter, the young Lady Anna as she was usually called, to remain at Lovel Grange, and they were taken to the house of Mr. Thwaite, in Keswick, as a temporary residence. At this time the Countess was in debt, and already there were lawsuits as to the practicability of obtaining payment of those debts from the husband's estate. And as soon as it was determined that the prosecution for bigamy should be instituted, the confusion in this respect was increased. The Countess ceased to call herself a countess, as she certainly would not be a countess should she succeed in proving the Earl to have been guilty. And had he been guilty of bigamy, the decree under which alimony was assigned to her would become void. Should she succeed, she would be a penniless unmarried female with a daughter, her child would be unfathered and base, and he,--as far as she could see,--would be beyond the reach of punishment. But, in truth, she and her friend the tailor were not in quest of success. She and all her friends believed that the Earl had committed no such crime. But if he were acquitted, then would her claim to be called Lady Lovel, and to enjoy the appanages of her rank, be substantiated. Or, at least, something would have been done towards substantiating those claims. But during this time she called herself Mrs. Murray, and the little Lady Anna was called Anna Murray. It added much to the hardship of the woman's case that public sympathy in distant parts of the country,--up in London, and in southern counties, and even among a portion of the gentry in Cumberland and Westmoreland,--did not go with her. She had married without due care. Some men said,--and many women repeated the story,--that she had known of the existence of the former wife, when she had married the Earl. She had run into debt, and then repudiated her debts. She was now residing in the house of a low radical tailor, who had assaulted the man she called her husband; and she was living under her maiden name. Tales were told of her which were utterly false,--as when it was said that she drank. Others were reported which had in them some grains of truth,--as that she was violent, stiff-necked, and vindictive. Had they said of her that it had become her one religion to assert her daughter's right,--per fas aut nefas,--to assert it by right or wrong; to do justice to her child let what injustice might be done to herself or others,--then the truth would have been spoken.