"Hush!" cried another voice, at her side.
A shadow had fallen athwart the kneeling girl, and another face, more wildly pale, more keenly disturbed with anguish, looked down upon the prostrate man, and the young creature who crouched and trembled by his side.
"Look up, woman, and let me see your face," said Ruth Jessup, in a voice that scarcely rose above a whisper, though it was strong in command.
Lady Rose drew herself up, and lifted her piteous face as if appealing for compassion.
"You!" exclaimed Ruth.
"Yes, Ruth Jessup, it is I, Lady Rose. We will not be angry with each other, now that he is dead."
"Dead!" repeated Ruth, "and you the first by his side? Dead? Oh, my God! my God! Has our sin blasted us both?"
Down upon the earth this poor girl sunk, wringing her hands in an agony of distress. Still Lady Rose looked at her with touching appeal. She had not comprehended the full force of Ruth's speech, though the words rested in her brain long after.
"Lay your hand on his heart," she said. "I—I dare not."
Ruth smiled a wan smile, colder than tears; still there was a faint gleam of triumph in it.