de Nevers. She proved to be an attractive young woman a little over
twenty, dressed in black, whose face showed that she had suffered more
than a little. She explained that her husband was confined in the Tombs
on a charge of perjury. But that was not all--he was worse than a
perjurer. He was an impostor--_a bigamist_. He had another wife living
somewhere in England--in Manchester, she thought. Oh, it was too
terrible. He had told her that he was the Count Charles de Nevers,
eldest son of the Duc de Nevers--in France, you know. And she had
believed him. He had had letters to everybody in Montreal, her home, and
plenty of money and beautiful clothes. He had dazzled her completely.
The wedding had been quite an affair and presents had come from the Duke
and Duchess of Nevers, from the Marchioness of Londonderry and from the
Countess of Dudley. There were also letters from the Prince and Princess
of Aremberg (in Belgium) and the Counts Andre and Fernand of Nevers. It
had all been so wonderful and romantic! Then they had gone on their
wedding journey and had been ecstatically happy. In Chicago, they had
been received with open arms.
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