'Ah, but if you had only seen her,' said Humphrey; 'Her pale wistful face, her large eyes full of tears! I declare I very nearly dropped the mask and betrayed myself. I asked her if Mr. Claxton were well known on the line on which he was travelling, suggesting that, if that were the case, and he had been taken ill, some one would surely have written to her. But she didn't seem to know where he had gone, and she did not like to make any inquiries. Mr. Claxton was, she said, a partner in the firm of Calverley and Company of Mincing-lane, and she had thought of going down there to make inquiries concerning him. But she remembered that some time ago Mr. Claxton had warned her in the strongest manner against ever going to the City house, or taking notice to any one of his absence, however prolonged it might be. It was one of the laws of business, she supposed, she said, with a faint smile; but she had now become so nervous that she was very nearly breaking it.' 'That is precisely the catastrophe which we have been trying to avert,' said Martin. 'And which we shall certainly not be able to avert in the manner we originally intended,' said Humphrey Statham. 'The story grows blacker as you proceed with it,' said Martin, looking uneasily at his companion. 'From all I gather from you, it seems evident that--this--' 'This lady,' said Mr. Statham, almost sternly. 'Certainly; this lady is quiet, sensible, and well-behaved.' 'More than that,' said Humphrey eagerly. 'After I left her, I had my luncheon at the inn. I dropped in at the little post-office and stationer's shop; I chatted with half a dozen people about Mrs. Claxton, and from one and all I heard the same story, that she is kind-hearted, charitable, and unceasing in doing good; that she is the vicar's right hand among the school-children, and that she is a pattern wife.' 'Wife!' echoed Martin Gurwood; 'do you you mean to say--' 'I mean to say, Martin Gurwood,' said Statham, bending forward and speaking in a deep earnest voice, 'that I have not the smallest doubt that the woman of whom we are speaking was married to the man whom you buried yesterday. I mean to say that at this instant she believes herself to be his wife, and that it will be next to impossible to make her understand the awful position in which she is placed. I mean to say that she is the victim of as black a fraud as ever was perpetrated, and that--there, I won't say any more; the man's dead, and we have all need of forgiveness.' 'The Lord help her in her trouble!' said Martin Gurwood solemnly, bowing his head. 'If what you say is right, and I feel it is, the mystery of the double name is now made clear.'