"No, no," she hastened to interrupt me, as though that point were very distasteful to her. "Age is entirely out of the question. Am I to understand that you distinctly deny having made me your wife?" "I do, most decidedly," I laughed, for the very idea was really too ridiculous to entertain. She exchanged a pitying look with Gedge, who stood at a little distance, watching in silence. "Poor Wilford! poor Wilford?" she ejaculated in a tone of sympathy, and, addressing the man who called himself my secretary, said, "It seems quite true what the doctor has declared; the blow has upset the balance of his mind." "Madam," I cried very determinedly, "you will oblige me by not adding further insult to your attempted imposture--for such sympathy is insulting to me." She clasped her hands, turned her eyes upwards, and sighed in the manner of the elderly. "You believe that I'm mad. Therefore you are trying to impose upon me!" I went on furiously. "But I tell you, my dear madam, that I am just as sane as yourself, and am fully prepared to prove that I am not your husband." "Ask Mr Gedge whether I speak the truth or not," she said, turning to the secretary. "Certainly," answered the man addressed, looking straight into my face. "I have no hesitation whatever in bearing out Mrs Heaton's statement." "It's all humbug!" I cried, turning savagely upon him. "I don't know this woman from Adam!" "Well," he laughed cynically, "you ought to know her pretty well, at any rate." It was apparent from his tone that he had no very high opinion of her. "I'm pleased to say that until this present moment we have been strangers," I said, for I was not in a humour to mince words. "You are extremely complimentary, Wilford," she observed resentfully. "It appears to me that compliments are entirely unnecessary in this affair," I said. "You are endeavouring to thrust yourself upon me as my wife, in order, I suppose, to achieve some object you have in view. But I tell you once and for all, madam, that any such attempt will be futile. To speak plainly, I don't know you, neither have I any desire to add you to my list of acquaintances." "Well," she cried; "of all the stories I've ever heard, this is the most extraordinary!" "I think, madam, I may say the same," I remarked coldly. "Your story is the wildest and most incredible that I've ever heard. Last night, as a bachelor, I dined with friends in Kensington, and left at a late hour, calling at a house in Chelsea on my way home to Essex Street. To-day I awake to be told that I am the owner of wealth beyond the dreams of avarice; master of this house--in Devonshire, I believe, isn't it; and your lawful husband. Now, if you think me capable of swallowing such a pack of palpable fictions as these, you must certainly consider me absolutely insane, for none but a madman would give credence to such a tissue of lies."