grand to have a nephew hung! My poor lovely innocent! I will have
justice on the foul villain. Cringing shall not turn me."

Her lips were white, and her teeth set. She rose with the slow
movement of one whose intent, if it had blossomed in passion, was
yet rooted in determination, and turned to leave the church.

"It might hamper your proceedings a little," said Wingfold, "if in
the meantime a charge of bigamy were brought against yourself, MRS.
DREW!"

Her back was towards the curate, and for a moment she stood like
another pillar of salt. Then she began to tremble, and laid hold of
the carved top of a bench. But her strength failed her completely;
she sank on her knees and fell on the floor with a deep moan.

The curate called Mrs. Jenkins and sent her for water. With some
difficulty they brought her to herself.

She rose, shuddered, drew her shawl about her, and said to the
woman,

"I am sorry to give so much trouble. When does the next train start
for London?"

"Within an hour," answered the curate. "I will see you safe to it."

"Excuse me; I prefer going alone."

"That I cannot permit."