‘My child!’
’What is the use of all this, mamma? Nothing
shall make me leave him. Others may be ashamed
of me; but because of this I shall never be ashamed
of myself. You are ashamed of me!’
‘If you could mean what you said just now I
should be ashamed of you.’
’I do mean it. Though the juries and the
judges should say that he was not my husband, though
all the judges in England should say it, I would not
believe them. They may put him in prison and so
divide us; but they never shall divide my bone from
his bone, and my flesh from his flesh. As you
are ashamed of me, I had better go back to-morrow.’
Then Mrs. Bolton determined that early in the morning
she would look to the bolts and bars; but when the
morning came matters had softened themselves a little.
The Babington Wedding
It is your duty,—especially your duty,—to
separate them.’ This was said by Mr. Smirkie,
the vicar of Plum-cum-Pippin, to Mr. Bromley, the
rector of Utterden, and the words were spoken in the
park at Babington where the two clergymen were taking
a walk together. Mr. Smirkie’s first wife
had been a Miss Bromley, a sister of the clergyman
at Utterden; and as Julia Babington was anxious to
take to her bosom all her future husband’s past
belongings, Mr. Bromley had been invited to Babington.
It might be that Aunt Polly was at this time well inclined
to exercise her hospitality in this direction by a
feeling that Mr. Bromley would be able to talk to
them about this terrible affair. Mr. Bromley
was intimate with John Caldigate, and of course would
know all about it. There was naturally in Aunt
Polly’s heart a certain amount of self-congratulation
at the way in which things were going. Mr. Smirkie,
no doubt, had had a former wife, but no one would call
him a bigamist. In what a condition might her
poor Julia have been but for that interposition of
Providence! For Aunt Polly regarded poor Hester
Bolton as having been quite a providential incident,
furnished expressly for the salvation of Julia.
Hitherto Mr. Bromley had been very short in his expressions
respecting the Folking tragedy, having simply declared
that, judging by character, he could not conceive that
a man such as Caldigate would have been guilty of
such a crime. But now he was being put through
his facings more closely by his brother-in-law.
‘Why should I want to separate them?’
‘Because the evidence of his guilt is so strong.’
‘That is for a jury to judge.’
’Yes; and if a jury should decide that there
had been no Australian marriage,—which
I fear we can hardly hope;—but if a jury
were to decide that, then of course she could go back
to him. But while there is a doubt, I should
have thought, Tom, you certainly would have seen it,
even though you never have had a wife of your own.’
‘I think I see all that there is to see,’
said the other. ’If the poor lady has been
deceived and betrayed, no punishment can be too heavy
for the man who has so injured her. But the very
enormity of the iniquity makes me doubt it. As
far as I can judge, Caldigate is a high-spirited,
honest gentleman, to whom the perpetration of so great
a sin would hardly suggest itself.’
