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The nobleman swung his glasses a little faster and stared down

into the fire. "You see, Mr. Holmes," said he, "my wife was

twenty before her father became a rich man. During that time she

ran free in a mining camp and wandered through woods or

mountains, so that her education has come from Nature rather than

from the schoolmaster. She is what we call in England a tomboy,

with a strong nature, wild and free, unfettered by any sort of

traditions. She is impetuous-volcanic, I was about to say. She is

swift in making up her mind and fearless in carrying out her

resolutions. On the other hand, I would not have given her the

name which I have the honour to bear"-he gave a little stately

cough-"had I not thought her to be at bottom a noble woman. I

believe that she is capable of heroic self-sacrifice and that

anything dishonourable would be repugnant to her."

"Have you her photograph?"