His lordship’s tutor, the Rev. Mr. Murray, became a party to the plan, even to the extent of performing the marriage ceremony. His lordship’s valet was the only witness. The certificate of marriage was left in the hands of the bride. The ceremony took place at Saratoga, in the month of July. Two months after, early in September, Lord William Daw, summoned by his father to the bedside of his declining mother, sailed for England. Marguerite received from him one letter, dated at sea, and in which he addressed her as his “beloved wife,” and signed himself, boy-loverlike, her “adoring husband.” This letter was directed to Lady William Daw, under cover to Marguerite De Lancie. It was the only one that he ever had the opportunity of writing to her. It arrived about the time that the wife first knew that she was also destined to become a mother. In the January following the receipt of this letter, Marguerite went with the Comptons to the New Year’s evening ball at the Executive Mansion. It was while standing up in a quadrille that she overheard two gentlemen speak of the wreck of the bark _Venture_ off the coast of Cornwall, with the loss of all on board. Marguerite fainted; and thence followed the terrible illness that brought her to the borders of death--of death, for which indeed she prayed and hoped; for what a wretched condition was hers! She, one of the most beautiful, accomplished, and high-spirited queens of society, found herself fated to become a mother, without the power of proving that she had ever possessed the right to the name of wife. As soon as she was able to recollect, reflect, and act, she felt that the only hope of recognition as the widow of Lord William Daw rested with the family of the latter; and she determined to go secretly to England. She made her preparations and departed. She reached London, where, overtaken by the pangs of maternity, she gave birth to a son, and immediately fell into a long and dangerous fever. Upon recovering, she sought the Yorkshire home of her father-in-law, and revealed to him her position. Marguerite was prepared for doubt, difficulty, and delay, but not for the utter incredulity, scorn, and rejection, to which she was subjected by the arrogant Marquis of Eaglecliff. Marguerite exhibited the certificate of her marriage, and the sole letter her young husband had ever had the power to write to her, and pleaded for recognition. Now the old marquis knew the handwriting of his son, and of his chaplain; but, feeling outraged by what he chose to consider artifice on the part of Marguerite, disobedience on that of William, and treachery on that of Mr. Murray, he contemptuously put aside the certificate as a forgery, and the letter, beginning “My beloved wife,” as the mere nonsense of a boy-lover writing to his mistress.