"I tell you nothing but what I heard," said Bertie, calmly.
"It is gone," said Fitz, white with passion, "of course it is gone! Idiot that I was to think he would spare that when he has taken all else! He has spent—squandered the poor girl's fortune, and then sells her, bargains her away to the first comer. It is shameful. It is unendurable; and, by Heaven, I will not endure it!"
"The bargain is off," said Bertie, bitterly. "You forget that the earl has thought better of it. He has recalled his consent."
"Yes, because he has received a higher bid! I know him!" said Fitz, sternly. "He would sell her to the highest bidder as if she were a horse or a piece of furniture. When did this occur?"
"This morning," said Bertie, and then he placed Fitz in possession of such of the facts as he himself was cognizant of.
"I see it all," said Fitz, pulling at his yellow beard in a frenzy. "That Howard Murpoint has been at the bottom of it. But have you noticed how thick the earl and he have been lately? I begin to hate that fellow. Do you remember the old time down there at Penruddie, when he was a regular bore?"
"Shall I ever forget it?" said Bertie, softly.
"Oh, no! poor Leicester!" said Fitz. "Well, we said there was more in the captain, as he called himself then, than appeared at first sight; and now look at him! He's the heart and soul and the whole machinery of the Mildmays, his name is good on 'Change for any amount, and now—now he has taken an interest in us. Bert, there's mischief brewing, mark me if there ain't. Who is this Mr. Smythe you saw with him this morning?"
"A millionaire, one of his city friends, a nob and an idiot," said Bertie, calmly.
"Then that's the fellow Ethel will be sold to," said Fitz, with calm despair.