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<h2> XIX. IN MY OFFICE </h2>
<p>"Something between an hindrance and a help."<br/>
Wordsworth.<br/></p>
<p>THE next day as, with nerves unstrung and an exhausted brain, I entered my
office, I was greeted by the announcement:</p>
<p>"A gentleman, sir, in your private room—been waiting some time, very
impatient."</p>
<p>Weary, in no mood to hold consultation with clients new or old, I advanced
with anything but an eager step towards my room, when, upon opening the
door, I saw—Mr. Clavering.</p>
<p>Too much astounded for the moment to speak, I bowed to him silently,
whereupon he approached me with the air and dignity of a highly bred
gentleman, and presented his card, on which I saw written, in free and
handsome characters, his whole name, Henry Ritchie Clavering. After this
introduction of himself, he apologized for making so unceremonious a call,
saying, in excuse, that he was a stranger in town; that his business was
one of great urgency; that he had casually heard honorable mention of me
as a lawyer and a gentleman, and so had ventured to seek this interview on
behalf of a friend who was so unfortunately situated as to require the
opinion and advice of a lawyer upon a question which not only involved an
extraordinary state of facts, but was of a nature peculiarly embarrassing
to him, owing to his ignorance of American laws, and the legal bearing of
these facts upon the same.</p>
<p>Having thus secured my attention, and awakened my curiosity, he asked me
if I would permit him to relate his story. Recovering in a measure from my
astonishment, and subduing the extreme repulsion, almost horror, I felt
for the man, I signified my assent; at which he drew from his pocket a
memorandum-book from which he read in substance as follows:</p>
<p>"An Englishman travelling in this country meets, at a fashionable
watering-place, an American girl, with whom he falls deeply in love, and
whom, after a few days, he desires to marry. Knowing his position to be
good, his fortune ample, and his intentions highly honorable, he offers
her his hand, and is accepted. But a decided opposition arising in the
family to the match, he is compelled to disguise his sentiments, though
the engagement remained unbroken. While matters were in this uncertain
condition, he received advices from England demanding his instant return,
and, alarmed at the prospect of a protracted absence from the object of
his affections, he writes to the lady, informing her of the circumstances,
and proposing a secret marriage. She consents with stipulations; the first
of which is, that he should leave her instantly upon the conclusion of the
ceremony, and the second, that he should intrust the public declaration of
the marriage to her. It was not precisely what he wished, but anything
which served to make her his own was acceptable at such a crisis. He
readily enters into the plans proposed. Meeting the lady at a parsonage,
some twenty miles from the watering-place at which she was staying, he
stands up with her before a Methodist preacher, and the ceremony of
marriage is performed. There were two witnesses, a hired man of the
minister, called in for the purpose, and a lady friend who came with the
bride; but there was no license, and the bride had not completed her
twenty-first year. Now, was that marriage legal? If the lady, wedded in
good faith upon that day by my friend, chooses to deny that she is his
lawful wife, can he hold her to a compact entered into in so informal a
manner? In short, Mr. Raymond, is my friend the lawful husband of that
girl or not?"</p>
<p>While listening to this story, I found myself yielding to feelings greatly
in contrast to those with which I greeted the relator but a moment before.
I became so interested in his "friend's" case as to quite forget, for the
time being, that I had ever seen or heard of Henry Clavering; and after
learning that the marriage ceremony took place in the State of New York, I
replied to him, as near as I can remember, in the following words: "In
this State, and I believe it to be American law, marriage is a civil
contract, requiring neither license, priest, ceremony, nor certificate—and
in some cases witnesses are not even necessary to give it validity. Of
old, the modes of getting a wife were the same as those of acquiring any
other species of property, and they are not materially changed at the
present time. It is enough that the man and woman say to each other, 'From
this time we are married,' or, 'You are now my wife,' or, 'my husband,' as
the case may be. The mutual consent is all that is necessary. In fact, you
may contract marriage as you contract to lend a sum of money, or to buy
the merest trifle."</p>
<p>"Then your opinion is——"</p>
<p>"That upon your statement, your friend is the lawful husband of the lady
in question; presuming, of course, that no legal disabilities of either
party existed to prevent such a union. As to the young lady's age, I will
merely say that any fourteen-year-old girl can be a party to a marriage
contract."</p>
<p>Mr. Clavering bowed, his countenance assuming a look of great
satisfaction. "I am very glad to hear this," said he; "my friend's
happiness is entirely involved in the establishment, of his marriage."</p>
<p>He appeared so relieved, my curiosity was yet further aroused. I therefore
said: "I have given you my opinion as to the legality of this marriage;
but it may be quite another thing to prove it, should the same be
contested."</p>
<p>He started, cast me an inquiring look, and murmured:</p>
<p>"True."</p>
<p>"Allow me to ask you a few questions. Was the lady married under her own
name?"</p>
<p>"She was."</p>
<p>"The gentleman?"</p>
<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
<p>"Did the lady receive a certificate?"</p>
<p>"She did."</p>
<p>"Properly signed by the minister and witnesses?"</p>
<p>He bowed his head in assent.</p>
<p>"Did she keep this?"</p>
<p>"I cannot say; but I presume she did."</p>
<p>"The witnesses were——"</p>
<p>"A hired man of the minister——"</p>
<p>"Who can be found?"</p>
<p>"Who cannot be found."</p>
<p>"Dead or disappeared?"</p>
<p>"The minister is dead, the man has disappeared."</p>
<p>"The minister dead!"</p>
<p>"Three months since."</p>
<p>"And the marriage took place when?"</p>
<p>"Last July."</p>
<p>"The other witness, the lady friend, where is she?"</p>
<p>"She can be found; but her action is not to be depended upon."</p>
<p>"Has the gentleman himself no proofs of this marriage?"</p>
<p>Mr. Clavering shook his head. "He cannot even prove he was in the town
where it took place on that particular day."</p>
<p>"The marriage certificate was, however, filed with the clerk of the town?"
said I.</p>
<p>"It was not, sir."</p>
<p>"How was that?"</p>
<p>"I cannot say. I only know that my friend has made inquiry, and that no
such paper is to be found."</p>
<p>I leaned slowly back and looked at him. "I do not wonder your friend is
concerned in regard to his position, if what you hint is true, and the
lady seems disposed to deny that any such ceremony ever took place. Still,
if he wishes to go to law, the Court may decide in his favor, though I
doubt it. His sworn word is all he would have to go upon, and if she
contradicts his testimony under oath, why the sympathy of a jury is, as a
rule, with the woman."</p>
<p>Mr. Clavering rose, looked at me with some earnestness, and finally asked,
in a tone which, though somewhat changed, lacked nothing of its former
suavity, if I would be kind enough to give him in writing that portion of
my opinion which directly bore upon the legality of the marriage; that
such a paper would go far towards satisfying his friend that his case had
been properly presented; as he was aware that no respectable lawyer would
put his name to a legal opinion without first having carefully arrived at
his conclusions by a thorough examination of the law bearing upon the
facts submitted.</p>
<p>This request seeming so reasonable, I unhesitatingly complied with it, and
handed him the opinion. He took it, and, after reading it carefully over,
deliberately copied it into his memorandum-book. This done, he turned
towards me, a strong, though hitherto subdued, emotion showing itself in
his countenance.</p>
<p>"Now, sir," said he, rising upon me to the full height of his majestic
figure, "I have but one more request to make; and that is, that you will
receive back this opinion into your own possession, and in the day you
think to lead a beautiful woman to the altar, pause and ask yourself: 'Am
I sure that the hand I clasp with such impassioned fervor is free? Have I
any certainty for knowing that it has not already been given away, like
that of the lady whom, in this opinion of mine, I have declared to be a
wedded wife according to the laws of my country? '"</p>
<p>"Mr. Clavering!"</p>
<p>But he, with an urbane bow, laid his hand upon the knob of the door. "I
thank you for your courtesy, Mr. Raymond, and I bid you good-day. I hope
you will have no need of consulting that paper before I see you again."
And with another bow, he passed out.</p>
<p>It was the most vital shock I had yet experienced; and for a moment I
stood paralyzed. Me! me! Why should he mix me up with the affair unless—but
I would not contemplate that possibility. Eleanore married, and to this
man? No, no; anything but that! And yet I found myself continually turning
the supposition over in my mind until, to escape the torment of my own
conjectures, I seized my hat, and rushed into the street in the hope of
finding him again and extorting from him an explanation of his mysterious
conduct. But by the time I reached the sidewalk, he was nowhere to be
seen. A thousand busy men, with their various cares and purposes, had
pushed themselves between us, and I was obliged to return to my office
with my doubts unsolved.</p>
<p>I think I never experienced a longer day; but it passed, and at five
o'clock I had the satisfaction of inquiring for Mr. Clavering at the
Hoffman House. Judge of my surprise when I learned that his visit to my
office was his last action before taking passage upon the steamer leaving
that day for Liverpool; that he was now on the high seas, and all chance
of another interview with him was at an end. I could scarcely believe the
fact at first; but after a talk with the cabman who had driven him off to
my office and thence to the steamer, I became convinced. My first feeling
was one of shame. I had been brought face to face with the accused man,
had received an intimation from him that he was not expecting to see me
again for some time, and had weakly gone on attending to my own affairs
and allowed him to escape, like the simple tyro that I was. My next, the
necessity of notifying Mr. Gryce of this man's departure. But it was now
six o'clock, the hour set apart for my interview with Mr. Harwell. I could
not afford to miss that, so merely stopping to despatch a line to Mr.
Gryce, in which I promised to visit him that evening, I turned my steps
towards home. I found Mr. Harwell there before me.</p>
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