“Be calm, be comforted, dearest Mr. Grahame,” she exclaimed, in a voice that caused him to gaze at her with astonishment.  “It is a mistaken tale you have heard; a cruel falsehood, to disturb your peace.  Lord Alphingham was married, but Annie is now his lawful wedded wife; the partner of his youth, the devoted woman whom for eight years he deserted, is no more.  She died the day preceding that which united Lord Alphingham to your child.  I speak truth, Mr. Grahame; solemnly, sacredly, I affirm it.  Percy will tell you more; I was pledged to secrecy.  On her deathbed she demanded a solemn promise from all who knew her tale, never to divulge it, lest it should prove to the discredit of her cruel husband, whom her last accents blessed.  I promised Percy it should be sacred, unless an emergency demanded it.  Be comforted, Mr. Grahame, indeed, I speak the truth.  Lord Alphingham was free, restrained by no tie, when he was united to your child.”  Rapidly, hurriedly, she had spoken, for she trembled at the wild gaze Grahame had fixed upon her.  Caroline’s voice rung clear and distinct upon his ear, and every word brought comfort, still he spoke not; but when she ceased, when slowly, more impressively her last words were spoken, he uttered a faint cry, and folding her slight form convulsively to his heart, sobbed like an infant on her shoulder.  Thoughts unutterable thronged the minds of Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton as they too listened with fascinated eagerness to Caroline’s words; thoughts, not only of the present but the past, rushed quickly to their minds.  A year previous Lord Alphingham’s wife still lived; though he, villain as he was, had heeded not the sacred tie.  Well could they enter into the blessed relief her words had brought to the distracted father.  Mr. Hamilton permitted some minutes to elapse in silence, and then gently withdrawing Caroline from Grahame’s still convulsive hold, said a few words, in a voice which, though low, expressed that kindly sympathy which seldom fails to reach the inmost soul; and finally succeeded in passing his arm through that of his friend, and leading him to an adjoining room, where, after a time, Grahame conquered his agitation sufficiently to give a connected account of the means through which he had learned the information which had so distracted him.  Caroline’s words and the influence of his friend restored him to comparative composure; but all was not at peace within until Percy had obeyed the summons of his father, and the information of his sister was confirmed in every point by him.  He related the tale of Mrs. Amesfort, with which our readers are already well acquainted, with the addition of her death, of which the letter he received a few days previous had informed him.  Many affecting interviews he had had with her, in which she spoke, of her husband, her mother, her child, so fondly, that the tears often started to the eyes of Percy, though her own were dry.  In parting from him, she had again implored him not to divulge her secret, unless the interest of her child demanded it, or he saw urgent occasion.