"My lady, what I have to tell is soon said. My sister was buried in her
wedding-ring. Her son was born in wedlock."

The Countess of Hurstmonceux started to her feet, clasped her hands and
gazed into Hannah's very soul! The light of an infinite joy irradiated
her face.

"Is this true?" she exclaimed.

"It is true."

"Then I have been mistaken! Oh, how widely mistaken! Thank Heaven! Oh,
thank Heaven!"

And the Countess of Hurstmonceux sank back in her chair, covered her
face with her hands, and burst into tears.

Hannah felt very uncomfortable; her conscience reproached her; she was
self-implicated in a deception; and this to one of her integrity of
character was very painful. Literally, she had spoken the truth; but the
countess had drawn false inferences and deceived herself; and she could
not undeceive her without breaking her oath to Nora and betraying Herman
Brudenell.

Then she pitied that beautiful, pale woman who was weeping so violently.
And she arose and poured out the last of poor Nora's bottle of wine and
brought it to her, saying:

"Drink this, my lady, and try and compose yourself."