The lady announced—­in a low sweet voice touched with a quiet sadness—­that her business related to a question of marriage (as marriage is understood by Scottish law), and that her own peace of mind, and the happiness of a person very dear to her, were concerned alike in the opinion which Mr. Camp might give when he had been placed in possession of the facts.

She then proceeded to state the facts, without mentioning names:  relating in every particular precisely the same succession of events which Geoffrey Delamayn had already related to Sir Patrick Lundie—­with this one difference, that she acknowledged herself to be the woman who was personally concerned in knowing whether, by Scottish law, she was now held to be a married woman or not.

Mr. Camp’s opinion given upon this, after certain questions had been asked and answered, differed from Sir Patrick’s opinion, as given at Windygates.  He too quoted the language used by the eminent judge—­Lord Deas—­but he drew an inference of his own from it.  “In Scotland, consent makes marriage,” he said; “and consent may be proved by inference.  I see a plain inference of matrimonial consent in the circumstances which you have related to me and I say you are a married woman.”

The effect produced on the lady, when sentence was pronounced on her in those terms, was so distressing that Mr. Camp sent a message up stairs to his wife; and Mrs. Camp appeared in her husband’s private room, in business hours, for the first time in her life.  When Mrs. Camp’s services had in some degree restored the lady to herself, Mr. Camp followed with a word of professional comfort.  He, like Sir Patrick, acknowledged the scandalous divergence of opinions produced by the confusion and uncertainty of the marriage-law of Scotland.  He, like Sir Patrick, declared it to be quite possible that another lawyer might arrive at another conclusion.  “Go,” he said, giving her his card, with a line of writing on it, “to my colleague, Mr. Crum; and say I sent you.”

The lady gratefully thanked Mr. Camp and his wife, and went next to the office of Mr. Crum.

Mr. Crum was the older lawyer of the two, and the harder lawyer of the two; but he, too, felt the influence which the charm that there was in this woman exercised, more or less, over every man who came in contact with her.  He listened with a patience which was rare with him:  he put his questions with a gentleness which was rarer still; and when he was in possession of the circumstances—–­behold, his opinion flatly contradicted the opinion of Mr. Camp!

“No marriage, ma’am,” he said, positively.  “Evidence in favor of perhaps establishing a marriage, if you propose to claim the man.  But that, as I understand it, is exactly what you don’t wish to do.”