Lucy pleaded hard for Yorke. With a woman's quick insight she had pierced the haze by which his actions and motives seemed obscured, and had jumped at, rather than worked out, the whole truth.
"Are you going to let him go, Leslie," she asked for the twentieth time, "after all he has suffered?"
"I have suffered also," said Leslie at last.
"But through no fault of his! Or, at any rate, not entirely through his fault. Is it because he changed titles with the duke that you are so angry, and will not forgive him?"
Leslie shook her head.
"I do not care about that," she said simply.
"Is it because he was so great a friend with that dancing woman?"
Leslie's face flushed, but she shook her head.
"No," said Lucy quickly. "He had not seen you then, remember. He said good-by to her after he had met you. You needn't want any more than that. What is it then? Ah, it is because of his engagement to Lady Eleanor!"
Leslie turned her face away her brows drawn together.