His eyes rested on hers, and seemed to sink to the innermost depths of her soul.
"Have you spoken to him?" he asked, not angrily, but in the tones a judge might use.
Margaret's face grew pale again.
"I have spoken to him, my lord," she said.
The earl's face grew stern and he stood perfectly motionless, with his eyes fixed on her face.
"I am sorry for that."
"Sorry, my lord?" faltered Margaret.
"I am sorry," he repeated. "My nephew, Lord Leyton, is a wicked and unprincipled young man. He is not fit——"
"Oh, my lord!" said Margaret, all her womanly chivalry rising on behalf of the absent.
The earl looked at her, his eyes dark and severe.