“Nothing, nothing,” he hastened to reassure her, though his voice was anything but reassuring; “only that I have just remembered that I cannot leave the—the house just at present. The fact is, I have important business with this man, and—and—oh, Lady Grace, I am so sorry! Don’t misunderstand! I’d give all I’m worth”—he laughed bitterly, and corrected himself—“ten years of my life, to come with you, but——”
He turned away, and set down his hat almost savagely.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured, anxiously, and there seemed to him a touch of reproach in her voice, which maddened him. “But I will not ask you to explain. Good-by,” and she turned away without offering her hand.
He sprang forward; then pulled up, and with something between a groan and an oath, sank into a chair.
She passed out, closing the door after her. On the bottom of the stairs she found the man sitting with his hands in his pockets, his hat on the back of his head; but he sprang up and removed his hat as she appeared. She made a slight gesture with her hand, and he followed her to the door; there she turned and, looking at him, calmly said:
“You are a sheriff’s officer?”
He looked rather surprised.
“Yes, I am, my lady,” he admitted. “I suppose his lordship told you?”
“No matter,” she said. “Do you know who I am?”
His eyes dropped before her steady gaze, and he looked rather uncertain how to answer.