“Without a doubt. The Ethalwoods never understood one another. This has been the bane of their happiness.”
He sighed and leant his head on one hand. Then he repeated, in a solemn, melancholy tone—
“The bane of their happiness.”
Lady Marvlynn did not venture upon any remarks. Before her sat an honourable gentleman, across whose features a fleeting expression passed.
It would be difficult to define this; it appeared to be a combination of emotions, in which sorrow, regret, and disappointment were combined.
“I will bethink me,” he presently said, “as to what is best to be done in this business. As for my reasoning with her that it is not to be thought of; but doubtless I shall find some other way.”
“Let either Mr. Chicknell or Mr. Wrench have an interview with her, and convey to her the unwelcome intelligence. It will come better from them than either of us two,” said Lady Marvlynn. “It matters not what they say as business men.”
“You are indeed a wise counsellor,” cried the earl, tapping her on the shoulder. “Nothing could be better; the suggestion is an excellent one, which I will act upon immediately. Chicknell will be here in an hour or so, and I can arrange with him without further delay.”
Lady Marvlynn, feeling that the subject of their conference was at an end, rose, made a curtsey, and left the apartment.
When the lawyer arrived, which he did in the course of two or three hours after the foregoing conversation, he was made acquainted with the nature of the commission imposed upon him, to which he at once acceded.