She was a girl of seventeen, remember. In the end,
Northway asked her to marry him, and she consented."
"Did he know of the money?" inquired Glazzard.
"Undoubtedly. I shouldn't wonder if the blockhead aunt told. Well,
the wedding-day came; they were married; and--just as they came
out of the church, up walks a detective, claps his hand on
Northway's shoulder, and arrests him for forgery."
"H'm! I see."
"The fellow was tried. Lilian wouldn't tell me the details; she gave
me an old newspaper with full report. Northway had already, some
years before, been in the hands of the police in London. It came out
now that he was keeping a mistress; on the eve of marriage he had
dispensed with her services, and the woman, in revenge, went to his
employers to let them know certain suspicious facts. He was sent to
penal servitude for three years."
"Three years!" murmured Glazzard. "About so ago, I suppose?"
"Yes; perhaps he is already restored to society. Pleasant
reflection!"
"Moral and discreet law," remarked the other, "which maintains the
validity of such a marriage!"
Denzil uttered a few violent oaths, reminiscences of the Navy.
"And she went at once to Sweden?" Glazzard inquired.
"In a month or two the head-mistress of her school, a sensible
woman, helped her to get an engagement--with not a word said of
the catastrophe.
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