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This was quite inconsistent with the extraordinary story of Mrs. Ryves as to the communication of the papers to her and her mother in 1815.
Bundy, who reserved the drawing-room for a casual dressmaking business, had threshed out the subject of the new lodger in advance with our young man, reminding him that her affection for his own person was a proof that, other things being equal, she positively preferred tenants who were clever. This was the case with Mrs. Ryves; she had satisfied Mrs. Bundy that she was not a simple strummer. Mrs.
As it was, Mrs. Ryves obtained a declaration of her legitimacy; but in so doing she sacrificed all her pretensions to royal descent. On the 22d of March, 1869, William, the fourth Earl of Wicklow, died, without male issue. His next brother, the Hon. and Rev. Francis Howard, had died during the late earl's lifetime, after being twice married.
Ryves, was the legitimate daughter of Henry Frederick Duke of Cumberland, and Olive his wife; that they were not satisfied that Henry Frederick Duke of Cumberland was lawfully married to Olive Wilmot on the 4th of March, 1767. On the other issues that Mrs. Ryves was the legitimate daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Serres, and that the younger petitioner, W.H. Ryves, was the legitimate son of Mr. and Mrs.
"No, I don't know that I do." "It must be for someone else the other person concerned. The other day, however, you wouldn't let me tell you that person's name." Mrs. Ryves, at this, rose quickly. "I don't want to know it; it's none of my business." "No, fortunately, I don't think it is," Baron rejoined, walking with her along the Parade.
She paused at this, still looking earnest and asking: "What have you found?" "Some ancient family papers, in a secret compartment of my writing- table." And he took up the packet he had left out, holding it before her eyes. "A lot of other things like that." "What are they?" murmured Mrs. Ryves. "I haven't the least idea. They're sealed." "You haven't broken the seals?" She had come further back.
Ryves turned once more as he came near, and then, from the sweet, strained smile with which she asked him if he were on his way to France, he saw that if she had been angry at his having followed her she had quickly got over it. "No, I'm not crossing; but it came over me that you might be, and that's why I hurried down to catch you before you were off."
The young man rose from his couch, pulling himself together sufficiently to reply that his health was well enough but that his spirits were down in his hoots. He had a strong disposition to "draw" his landlady on the subject of Mrs. Ryves, as well as a vivid conviction that she constituted a theme as to which Mrs. Bundy would require little pressure to tell him even more than she knew.
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