"Now? Has she been ill?"
"Ill and in great trouble. Her father is dead——."
The duke raised himself to an upright position, then sank back.
"Poor girl, poor girl!" he murmured.
Ralph Duncombe flushed.
"Miss Lisle neither asks nor would accept your pity, your grace," he said, sternly. "I am ignorant of the events connected with that gift or its return. I do not wish to know anything about it, but of this I am assured—that Miss Lisle desires to hold no further communication with you."
The duke was silent for a moment.
"Very good," he said at last. "I understand. But I think if she knew how much I desire her forgiveness for the deceit I practised upon her, and how near I am to that land which forgiveness cannot reach, she would not refuse to forgive me."
"I have discharged my mission," said Ralph coldly. He could not bring himself to convey Leslie's forgiveness.
The duke touched an electric bell.