She glanced at him sympathetically, and replied:
“My poor Harold, I am sorry, but I am not surprised. Lady Elaine is young and thoughtless. Such love as yours she does not understand. Must we part with you?”
In her heart she thought:
“And the sooner he goes the better, lest that meddlesome Colonel Greyson will take it into his head to come here again. A few months will suffice to efface her from his heart, and then——”
“I will not inflict myself upon you now, Harold,” she went on, “but you will let us know—mamma and me—where you are going to—how you are progressing? I do not like this sort of thing, but it is not altogether a surprise for me. For goodness’ sake, don’t worry yourself to death! How could I bear that? There is at least one who cares for you disinterestedly.”
She dropped her eyes, conscious that they were burning with all the passion of her intense nature.
“Yes, Margaret,” Sir Harold said, sadly, “you have ever been a dear, dear sister to me, and I think that I esteem you now more than at any other time. I have met with a severe shock, a disappointment which no words can describe. I hate my home, my country even, and shall again become a wanderer in strange lands, until the edge of my grief is blunted.”
“But you must write to us, Harold”—there was real pain in her voice—“you must write to us, and I am sure that you will be glad to come home again to those who really care for you!”
“Some day I may, Margaret, but it may not be for years! I leave to-night!”
She wept a little, then pressed his fingers in parting, and he was grateful for her womanly sympathy.