Lady Lilian lay extended on her couch, her eyes closed, a faint, painful smile on her face.
He stood and looked at her a moment, then he bent and lightly touched her lips with his.
"Good-bye, Lil," he murmured. "You at least will understand."
Then he ran down, putting on his gloves, and had one foot on the dogcart step when Lady Wyndward came into the hall.
"Leycester," she said, "where are you going?"
He turned and looked at her rather wistfully. Lord Charles fingered the letter in his pocket, and wished himself in Peru.
"To London, mother," he said.
"Why?" she asked.
It was an unusual question for her, who rarely asked him his intentions, or the why and wherefore, and he hesitated.
"On business," he said.