“Are your friend and the lady English or Scotch?”

“Both English.”

“At the time when they met at the inn, had they either of them arrived in Scotland, from the place in which they were previously living, within a period of less than twenty-one days?”

Geoffrey hesitated.  There could be no difficulty in answering for Anne.  Lady Lundie and her domestic circle had occupied Windygates for a much longer period than three weeks before the date of the lawn-party.  The question, as it affected Arnold, was the only question that required reflection.  After searching his memory for details of the conversation which had taken place between them, when he and Arnold had met at the lawn-party, Geoffrey recalled a certain reference on the part of his friend to a performance at the Edinburgh theatre, which at once decided the question of time.  Arnold had been necessarily detained in Edinburgh, before his arrival at Windygates, by legal business connected with his inheritance; and he, like Anne, had certainly been in Scotland, before they met at Craig Fernie, for a longer period than a period of three weeks He accordingly informed Sir Patrick that the lady and gentleman had been in Scotland for more than twenty-one days—­and then added a question on his own behalf:  “Don’t let me hurry you, Sir—­but, shall you soon have done?”

“I shall have done, after two more questions,” answered Sir Patrick.  “Am I to understand that the lady claims, on the strength of the circumstances which you have mentioned to me, to be your friend’s wife?”

Geoffrey made an affirmative reply.  The readiest means of obtaining Sir Patrick’s opinion was, in this case, to answer, Yes.  In other words, to represent Anne (in the character of “the lady”) as claiming to be married to Arnold (in the character of “his friend").

Having made this concession to circumstances, he was, at the same time, quite cunning enough to see that it was of vital importance to the purpose which he had in view, to confine himself strictly to this one perversion of the truth.  There could be plainly no depending on the lawyer’s opinion, unless that opinion was given on the facts exactly a s they had occurred at the inn.  To the facts he had, thus far, carefully adhered; and to the facts (with the one inevitable departure from them which had been just forced on him) he determined to adhere to the end.

“Did no letters pass between the lady and gentleman?” pursued Sir Patrick.

“None that I know of,” answered Geoffrey, steadily returning to the truth.

“I have done, Mr. Delamayn.”

“Well? and what’s your opinion?”

“Before I give my opinion I am bound to preface it by a personal statement which you are not to take, if you please, as a statement of the law.  You ask me to decide—­on the facts with which you have supplied me—­whether your friend is, according to the law of Scotland, married or not?”