“No; not without cause.  That is a point, I fancy, about which my informant had her reasons for not being explicit.”

“What!” cried the young man, indignantly.  “She threw some one in her son’s way, to divert his attention from his lawful wife?”

“Perhaps; I can’t say for certain.  I am not defending her, Mr. Yorke; but remember, she loved her son.  She beheld him a victim to an artful woman.  He was not in her eyes as he is in mine, and perhaps in yours.  He had, she argued, capabilities of good, an affectionate and trustful nature; he was the best parti in the county, and had chosen his tutor’s niece—­a woman old enough to have borne him.  Besides, she was not his lawful wife.  The dowager had secretly taken legal opinion upon that matter, and was only waiting for an opportunity to test it.  It was essential for this that her son should desire his own freedom; and at last he did so.  I have told you the occasion.  In the whirlwind of her wrath, your mother told Carew some home truths; above all, let him know she despised him, and had inveigled him into marriage.  He had no other name for her, henceforth, but Serpent.”

“I know,” said Yorke.  “Go on.”

“It was within two months of your birth that this quarrel took place.  Had you been born, and especially here at Crompton, I think the rupture would never have happened.  Your grandmother felt that too, and did her utmost to precipitate matters, and, as you know, she was successful.  Her daughter-in-law was compelled to leave the house, and an action was commenced in an ecclesiastical court.  The validity of the marriage was contested on the ground of undue publication of the bans, both parties having a knowledge of the fact.  I am a parson, you know, and this bit of law lies in my way.  The bride appeared in the register as spinster, whereas she was the widow of an old pupil of her uncle’s, whose surname you bear.  It was not an easy victory by any means.  The judge of the Consistory Court held that the inaccuracy in question was insufficient to invalidate the ceremony; but Carew, or rather your grandmother, appealed to the Court of Arches, and got the decision reversed.  The marriage was therefore declared null and void.  Very hard lines it was for you, Mr. Yorke; and—­and that’s the whole story.”

“I thank you,” said the young man, gravely.  “I can easily imagine that it might have been told by other lips in harsher terms.”

They were silent for full a minute, Yorke busying himself with the titles of the documents upon the table, written out in the chaplain’s sprawling hand.

“Your mother must be a most remarkable woman,” observed the latter, thoughtfully.  “Is she still young-looking for her age?”

“Yes; very.  What a queer docket is here! ‘Tin Mine.  Refused:’  What does that mean?”