Lady Wyndward made a move forward, but Lenore's hand closed over her arm, and she stopped and looked at her.
Lenore shook her head, smiling softly.
"Better not," she murmured, scarcely above her breath. "Not yet. Leave him alone. Something has happened as you surmised. I have such keen eyes, you know, and can see his face."
So could Lady Wyndward by this time, and her own turned white at sight of the pale, haggard face.
"Do not go to him," whispered Lenore, "do not stop him. Leave him alone; it is good advice."
Lady Wyndward felt instinctively that it was, and so that she might not be tempted to disregard it, she turned away and went into the house.
Leycester came along the terrace, and raising his eyes, heavy and clouded, saw the ladies, but he only raised his hat and passed on. Then he came to where the figure in white, glimmering with pearls and diamonds, leaned against the column and he hesitated a moment, but there was no look of invitation in her eyes, only a faint smile, and he merely raised his hat again and passed on; but, half unconsciously, he had taken in the loveliness and grace of the picture that she made, and that was all that she desired for the present.
With heavy steps he crossed the hall, climbed the stairs, and entered his own room.
His man Oliver, who had been waiting for him and hanging about, came in softly, but stole out again at sight of the dusky figure lying wearily on the chair; but presently Leycester called him and he went back.
"Get a bath ready, Oliver," he said, "and pack a portmanteau; we shall leave to-night."