Ralph Duncombe remained silent for a moment, then he said:
"My lord, I desired to break off the engagement between you and Miss Lisle."
"You? Why? Ah——."
The light flashed upon him; then he glanced at Lucy, who stood, trembling, with one hand upon Ralph's arm.
"Yes," said Ralph. "But Miss Lisle had rejected me, she would never have been my wife, and, in saying this, I will say no more! I have another reason."
"That reason?" demanded Yorke, with barely restrained fury.
"I decline to answer," said Ralph.
Yorke made a movement as if to seize him or strike him. Lucy screamed, Leslie seemed as if to spring between them, then flung herself on her knees beside a chair, and this recalled Yorke to himself.
"Forgive me," he murmured, casting a glance at her; then in a loud tone he said to Ralph significantly:
"This is not the place for a scene, Mr. Duncombe. I shall demand an explanation from you elsewhere. I—I will go now." He put his hand to his brow, and his face lost its fury as he turned it to Leslie, kneeling, with her face in her hands. "Yes, I will go now. Good-by, Les—Miss Lisle. Forgive me all the trouble and sorrow I have caused you! God knows, as I said, I would lay down my life to win a day's happiness for you! I—I think in your heart of hearts you know that. I—I have been a wretchedly unfortunate man! It is all my own fault, I dare say, and yet——. Well! All the talking in the world will not talk out the past, will not help me through the future! Good-by! God bless you, Leslie."