“All whom I expected are here,” she answered.  “And more than I expected,” she added, with a look at Anne.

The look was not returned—­was not even seen.  From the moment when she had taken her place by Sir Patrick, Anne’s eyes had rested on Blanche.  They never moved—­they never for an instant lost their tender sadness—­when the woman who hated her spoke.  All that was beautiful and true in that noble nature seemed to find its one sufficient encouragement in Blanche.  As she looked once more at the sister of the unforgotten days of old, its native beauty of expression shone out again in her worn and weary face.  Every man in the room (but Geoffrey) looked at her; and every man (but Geoffrey) felt for her.

Sir Patrick addressed a second question to his sister-in-law.

“Is there any one here to represent the interests of Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn?” he asked.

Lady Lundie referred Sir Patrick to Geoffrey himself.  Without looking up, Geoffrey motioned with his big brown hand to Mr. Moy, sitting by his side.

Mr. Moy (holding the legal rank in Scotland which corresponds to the rank held by solicitors in England) rose and bowed to Sir Patrick, with the courtesy due to a man eminent in his time at the Scottish Bar.

“I represent Mr. Delamayn,” he said.  “I congratulate myself, Sir Patrick, on having your ability and experience to appeal to in the conduct of the pending inquiry.”

Sir Patrick returned the compliment as well as the bow.

“It is I who should learn from you,” he answered. “I have had time, Mr. Moy, to forget what I once knew.”

Lady Lundie looked from one to the other with unconcealed impatience as these formal courtesies were exchanged between the lawyers.  “Allow me to remind you, gentlemen, of the suspense that we are suffering at this end of the room,” she said.  “And permit me to ask when you propose to begin?”

Sir Patrick looked invitingly at Mr. Moy.  Mr. Moy looked invitingly at Sir Patrick.  More formal courtesies! a polite contest this time as to which of the two learned gentlemen should permit the other to speak first!  Mr. Moy’s modesty proving to be quite immovable, Sir Patrick ended it by opening the proceedings.

“I am here,” he said, “to act on behalf of my friend, Mr. Arnold Brinkworth.  I beg to present him to you, Mr. Moy as the husband of my niece—­to whom he was lawfully married on the seventh of September last, at the Church of Saint Margaret, in the parish of Hawley, Kent.  I have a copy of the marriage certificate here—­if you wish to look at it.”

Mr. Moy’s modesty declined to look at it.

“Quite needless, Sir Patrick!  I admit that a marriage ceremony took place on the date named, between the persons named; but I contend that it was not a valid marriage.  I say, on behalf of my client here present (Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn), that Arnold Brinkworth was married at a date prior to the seventh of September last—­namely, on the fourteenth of August in this year, and at a place called Craig Fernie, in Scotland—­to a lady named Anne Silvester, now living, and present among us (as I understand) at this moment.”