"Is it?" said Lady Eleanor. "You do not know or understand. Do you think"—she looked up with a look of pain in her beautiful eyes—"do you think that if he were free he would wish me now to be his wife?"
"Eleanor, I have often said, in jest, that your affection for Yorke was undermining your reason; but in solemn truth I begin to think that there is some truth in my assertion. Dry your eyes and compose yourself. He will be here presently; he is sure to come the moment he hears the news. He will have to go over and see about the funeral."
"No, no; why should he?" said Lady Eleanor, then she flushed as if with shame. "Yes, yes, of course! and you think he will come?"
"There he is!" said Lady Denby, as they heard Yorke's step in the hall. "For heaven's sake don't breathe to him the charming sentiments you have favored me with."
Lady Eleanor shook her head and bit her lips to bring the color into them.
"Do not fear," she said. "It is only when I am alone or with you that I show my doubts and fears."
Yorke came in and took her in his arms and kissed her.
"You have heard the news, Eleanor, I see," he said gravely.
"Yes, it is dreadful, dreadful! To think that all three should be gone—those two poor boys! You are going over, Yorke?" for he had got on his traveling ulster.
"Yes; I am going to meet Fleming at Charing Cross to-morrow morning. I shall have to go back at once."