His manner was so singular, so unlike his usual one, that Lady Eleanor was startled.
"Thank you, no," she said; "except—except that I should be glad if you could get any other bills or debts of Lord Auchester's."
He nodded.
"Certainly." He brushed his hat slowly, then added, "Excuse me, Lady Eleanor, but will you allow me to ask why you are purchasing—and at a heavy price—Lord Auchester's liabilities? I am aware that I have no right to ask you the question——."
"Yes, you have," she said, quickly, and struggling with the color that would mount to her face. "You were my father's friend, and have been and are mine; and you have every right to ask such questions. But I find it difficult to answer. Well, Lord Auchester is a friend of mine, and I would rather that he owed me the money than a lot of Jews and people of that kind."
Ralph Duncombe inclined his head with an air of, "You know your own business better than any one else."
"Good-morning, Lady Eleanor," he said; "I will do as you wish. And please, say nothing about this mining scheme of ours."
He got outside the house, and drew a long breath.
The mere mention of the word "Portmaris" had stirred his heart to its depths, and recalled Leslie and his parting scene with her.
He might aspire to nobility, might he? What would be the good of a title to him, when the only title he longed for was that of Leslie Lisle's husband? And so this Lord Auchester had been at Portmaris. Had he seen Leslie? Had he spoken to her? It was not unlikely! Such men as this Lord Yorke Auchester would be sure to discover a beautiful girl like Leslie, and make acquaintance with her.