On the morning following these events the Earl and Countess, with the Marquis of Arranmore, deliberated over the strange tale at their breakfast table. Lord Wentworth had told everything to his wife during the early watches of the morning; and if she was even more surprised than he had been, she yet bore the trial with still greater calmness and patience. Lord Arranmore, perhaps of the three, seemed most affected; but their different ideas will best be exemplified by part of the conversation across the table. "If you do wisely, Wentworth," said the Marquis, "you will keep this story precious quiet; if it gets about it will kick up a desperate row!--excuse the word, Countess, but least said soonest mended; and to try the case can do no possible good to unfortunate L'Estrange, and will certainly do you plenty of harm." "But still, Arranmore, right is right; and if I am aware I am an usurper, I have no longer any right to remain so." "Nonsense, my dear fellow; look quietly at it. Here is a fellow, a cut-throat, an assassin, a murderer,--and you, without any flattery, an ornament to our peerage; and because another old villain tells you he is your brother,--_ergo_, my Italian cut-throat becomes an English Earl, and my Lord of Wentworth sinks into a plain gentleman!" "You forget, he is rightful heir, and only by an adverse fate was kept from his own. Surely, Arranmore, if you were proved to be spending another's fortune by misapprehension, your duty is to restore it, as well as all you have spent." "It might be my duty, but I should certainly never stoop to it; besides, the case is different. Suppose the cleverest lawyer in the kingdom proved to a demonstration a convict murderer was the rightful Marquis of Arranmore, d'you think I would give up name, title, and possessions to him?" "I did not say so; but if this convict had a son how would it be?" "You have no proof L'Estrange ever had a son. Take my advice,--burn the papers, and never trouble your brains about it again. I grant it maybe very romantic, and there may be a degree of likelihood in the story; but for romance I would never let solid reality slip away. Think of your wife and Augusta;--as a father you are not bound, on mere report, to bring them to ruin!" "I hope," said the Countess, "as I have shared my husband's prosperity, I shall be enabled to share his adversity, if it is God's pleasure; and I do hope Wentworth will be ruled by right; and whatever may happen, at least I will not add to his trials by impatience or complainings." "I am quite sure you will always be faithful for better for worse," said the Earl, with earnestness. "No, Arranmore, depend on it, whatever course justice points to, I will go; and though it would be a trial--a heavy trial--to lose rank, wealth, and authority, still the hand that gave them takes away, and we have no right to murmur. At least it will not be for long; but, however protracted the trial may be, I trust I shall have grace to bear it."