“Ah!  I often read and speak of the depravity of human nature; but I could not have believed Herman Brudenell capable of so black a crime,” said Mr. Wynne, with a shudder.

“Sir,” replied Hannah, resolved to do justice in spite of her bleeding heart, “he isn’t so guilty as you judge him to be.  When he married Norah he believed that his wife had been killed in a great railway crash, for so it was reported in all the newspaper accounts of the accident; and he never saw it contradicted.”

“His worst fault then appears to have been that of reckless haste in consummating his second marriage,” said Mr. Wynne.

“Yes; and even for that he had some excuse.  His first wife was an artful widow, who entrapped him into a union and afterwards betrayed his confidence and her own honor.  When he heard she was dead, you see, no doubt he was shocked; but he could not mourn for her as he could for a true, good woman.”

“Humph!  I hope, then, for the sake of human nature that he is not so bad as I thought him.  But now, Hannah, what do you intend to do?”

“About what?” inquired the poor woman sadly.

“About clearing the memory of your sister and the birth of her son from unmerited shame,” replied Mr. Wynne gravely.

“Nothing,” she answered sadly.

“Nothing?” repeated the minister, in surprise.

“Nothing,” she reiterated.

“What! will you leave the stigma of undeserved reproach upon your sister in her grave and upon her child all his life, when a single revelation from you, supported by my testimony, will clear them both?” asked the minister, in almost indignant astonishment.

“Not willingly, the Lord above knows.  Oh, I would die to clear Nora from blame!” cried Hannah, bursting into a flood of tears.

“Well, then, do it, my poor woman! do it!  You can do it,” said the clergyman, drawing his chair to her side and laying his hand kindly on her shoulder.  “Hannah, my girl, you have a duty to the dead and to the living to perform.  Do not be afraid to attempt it!  Do not be afraid to offend that wealthy and powerful family!  I will sustain you, for it is my duty as a Christian minister to do so, even though they—­the Brudenells—­should afterwards turn all their great influence in the parish against me.  Yes, I will sustain you, Hannah!  What do I say?  I?  A mightier arm than that of any mortal shall hold you up!”

“Oh, it is of no use! the case is quite past remedying,” wept Hannah.

“But it is not, I assure you!  When I first heard the astounding news of Brudenell’s first marriage with the Countess of Hurstmonceaux, and his wife’s sudden arrival at the Hall, and recollected at the same time his second marriage with Nora Worth, which I myself had solemnized, my thoughts flew to his poor young victim, and I pondered what could be done for her, and I searched the laws of the land bearing upon the subject of marriage.  And I found that