“Now let me see,” she said severely to herself; “what have I gained, any way? Well, I know that Mr Steinherz and Aunt Connie were married at that church, and that there’s a slip of paper which _may_ cover their secret. And I’ve found three witnesses certainly--four if the old Vicar’s mind isn’t affected by his stroke--who can testify to the marriage. I guess it’s just as well that the gentleman in the ‘Roman mitre’ wasn’t the Vicar when Pappa Steinherz went to enlist his sympathies. I don’t believe he has any; he might even have assisted to drag poor Aunt Connie shrieking to a convent. Well, but after all, it’s quite possible yet for Mr Steinherz to have made out that he was Prince Joseph of Arragon when he isn’t, or even to have invented the tale just to impress Lord Usk. I don’t think so, but I’m set on looking things in the face. Any way, I guess I can’t do anything towards clearing up the affair without Mr Steinherz’s help, or else the use of those relics that Mr Hicks has in charge. How am I to fix things? I have no pull on Pappa Steinherz, and if I make him mad he’ll just take Fay right away from me, and break my heart. I’ll have to wait. And yet something ought to be done right now, or some of those old folks that can swear to the marriage will be dying off. I wonder if I couldn’t take their evidence. No, I’m pretty certain it would need to be sworn to before a judge, and I daren’t have any other person come into the secret, even if I knew a judge to speak to. Well, I guess I must sit tight, and that’s all just now.”