The earl moved his head a little; his eyes closed. She put the brandy to his lips.
“It has come at last!” he murmured. “Margery, listen, my darling! I know your secret, your love story.” He wrestled for a moment with his growing faintness; then went on, brokenly: “I was in my room that day when you parted from Stuart, and I heard all, my brave darling—learned how much you were suffering. My death will set you free. You will be happy in the future, Margery, my sweet one!”
“Do not—oh, do not speak like that, Nugent!” she whispered, mad with a fever of pain, regret, remorse. “You torture me!”
“Let me tell you how happy you have made me, wife. Death is near—you must——” His voice sank; then, with a last effort, he went on: “Promise to make Stuart happy. He loves you, Margery. Give me your promise——”
“I cannot!” she broke in, in tearless agony. “Nugent, you break my heart—you——” Then seeing the intense eagerness of his dark eyes, she paused.
“Promise!” his lips formed rather than spoke.
She hesitated only for a moment.
“I promise,” she murmured, faintly.
A smile lighted up his face.
“Now all is ended!” The words came very faintly. “I am content. Kiss me, my——”