“You see, I had a fact to go upon.  You had noticed that your so-called bride’s gloves did not fit her; the boy below, that her shoes were so tight she hobbled.  That set me thinking.  A woman of Mrs. Ransom’s experience and judgment would not be apt to make a mistake in two such important particulars; which, taken with the veil and the promise she exacted from you not to address or touch her during your short ride to the hotel, led me to point my inquiries so that I soon found out that your wife had had the assistance of another woman in getting ready for her journey and that this woman was her own maid who had been with her for a long time, and had always given evidence of an especial attachment for her.  Asking about this girl’s height and general appearance (for the possibility of a substitution was already in my mind), I found that she was of slight figure and good carriage, and that her age was not far removed from that of her young mistress.  This made the substitution I have mentioned feasible, and when I was told that she was seen taking her hat and bonnet into the bride’s room, and, though not expected to leave till the next morning, had slid away from the house by the basement door at the same moment her mistress appeared on the front steps, my suspicions became so confirmed that I asked how this girl looked, in the hope that you would be able to recognize her, through the description, as the woman you had seen sitting in Reception-room No. 3.  But to my surprise, Mrs. Fulton had what was better than any description, the girl’s picture.  This has simplified matters very much.  By it you have been able to identify the woman who attempted to mislead you in the reception-room, and I the person who rode here with you from Mr. Fulton’s house.  Wasn’t she dressed in brown?  Didn’t you notice a similarity in her appearance to that of the very lady you were then seeking?”

“I did not observe.  Her face was all I saw.  She was looking directly at me as I stepped into the room.”

“I see.  She had taken off her veil and trusted to your attention being caught by her strange features,—­as it was.  But that dress was brown; I’m sure of it.  She was the very woman.  Otherwise the mystery is impenetrable.  A deep plot, Mr. Ransom; one that should prove to you that Mrs. Ransom’s motive in leaving you was of a very serious character.  Do you wish that motive probed to the bottom?  I cannot do it without publicity.  Are you willing to incur that publicity?”

“I must.”  Mr. Ransom had risen in great excitement.  “Nothing can hide the fact that my bride left me on our wedding-day.  It only remains now to show that she did it under an influence which robbed her of her own will; an influence from which she shrank even while succumbing to it.  I can show her no greater kindness, and I am not afraid of the result.  I have perfect confidence in her integrity”—­he hesitated, then added with strong conviction—­“and in her love.”