"As his wife, sir. I am his wife, as I can prove. I didn't come without my lines to show. I didn't come on a speculation, to see if he'd a fancy to have me back. No, afore I set my foot down anywheres I look to see as it's solid walking." "Show your proof," said Mr. Alwynn. The woman ostentatiously got out a red morocco letter case, and produced a paper which she handed to Mr. Alwynn. It was an authorized copy of a marriage register, drawn out in the usual manner, between Alfred Dare, bachelor, English subject, and Ellen, widow of the late Jaspar Carroll, of Neosho City, Kansas, U.S.A. The marriage was dated seven years back. The names of Dare and Carroll swam before Mr. Alwynn's eyes. He glanced at the paper, but he could not read it. "Is this a forgery, Dare?" he asked, holding it towards him. "No," said Dare, without looking at it; "it is right. But that is not all. Now," turning to the woman, who was watching him triumphantly, "show the other paper--the divorce." "I made inquiries about that," she replied, composedly. "I wasn't going to be fooled by that 'ere, so I made inquiries from one as knows. The divorce is all very well in America; but it don't count in England." Dare's face turned livid. Mr. Alwynn's flushed a deep red. He sat with his eyes on the ground, the paper in his hand trembling a little. Indignation against Dare, pity for him, anxiety not to judge him harshly, struggled for precedence in his kind heart, still beating tumultuously with the shock of Dare's first admission. He felt rather than saw him take the paper out of his hand. "I shall keep this," Dare said, putting it in his pocket-book; and then, turning to the woman again, he said, with an oath, "Will you go, or will you wait till you are turned out?" "I'll wait," she replied, undauntedly. "I like the place well enough." She laughed and took up her work, and, after looking at her for a moment, he flung out of the room, followed by Mr. Alwynn. The defeat was complete; nay, it was a rout. The dog-cart was still standing at the door. The butler was talking to the groom; the gardener was training some new shoots of ivy against the stone balustrade. Dare caught up his hat and gloves, and ordered that his portmanteau, which had been taken into the hall, should be put back into the dog-cart. As it was being carried down he looked at his watch. "I can catch the mid-day express for London," he said. "I can do it easily." Mr. Alwynn made no reply. "Get in," continued Dare, feverishly; "the portmanteau is in." "I think I will walk home," said Mr. Alwynn, slowly. It gave him excruciating pain to say anything so severe as this; but he got out the words nevertheless. Dare looked at him in astonishment. "Get in," he said again, quickly. "I must speak to you. I will drive you home. I have something to say."