Sir Archie stood, his hand outstretched to push her aside. Men of his class and character dislike a scene. He was not physically afraid of Lord Wolfer, but—a scene and a scandal which would leave Lady Wolfer at Wolfer House, while he was turned out, was a contretemps to be avoided, if possible.
"You must be mad!" he said, between his teeth. "Worse; you are laboring under a hideous mistake. She loves me, and you know it—she has never cared for Lord Wolfer. Please stand aside."
He put out his hand to gently remove her from before the bell, and at his touch the strain which Nell was undergoing became too tense for endurance. The color left her face and left it deathly white. With a faint moan she put her hand to her throat as if she were choking, and swayed to and fro as if she were giddy.
Sir Archie caught her just in time.
"Good heavens, don't faint!" he exclaimed, in a horrified whisper.
At the sound of his voice, at his touch, Nell recovered her full consciousness.
"Let me go! Don't touch me!" she breathed, with a shudder; but, before she could free herself from his hold, the door opened, and the earl entered.
With an oath, Sir Archie turned and glared at him, and Nell sank against the mantelshelf, and leaned there, faint and trembling.
The two men stood quite still and looked at each other. In these days we have taught ourselves to take the most critical moments of our lives quietly. There is no loud declamation, no melodramatic denunciation, no springing at each other's throats, or flashing of swords. We carry our wrongs to the law courts, and an aged gentleman in an ermine tippet, and a more or less grimy wig, avenges us—with costs and damages.
The earl was pale enough, and his eyes wore a stern expression as they rested upon his "friend"; but yet there was something in his face which seemed to indicate relief; and, presently, after a moment which seemed an age to Nell, his gaze left the other man's face and fixed itself on her.