"There are women, and woman," he said absently, the grave look still in the eyes resting on her face.
"There is something more than usual troubling you; share it with me, do, and then you know you will only have half to bear," and for one moment her soft hand is on his arm, her eyes full of sympathy on his face.
"It is only a presentiment, ma belle," and his hand is laid on hers.
But now there is a tap at the door, and his servant says:
"Telegram from England, sir."
"My presentiment," he says, in same low tone.
"Face it bravely, it is not, I trust, bad news."
"It is," he says gravely, "for I must leave you."
Vaura turned pale, and Lady Esmondet said:
"No bad news I hope, Lionel?"