He looked at her with the shrewdness of old age.
"You keep yourself informed of his movements; you care for him still, Violet?"
She did not answer, but her keen eyes met his for a moment, and her small, restless fingers plucked at the edge of the silk shawl which she had thrown over him.
The earl sighed.
"The love of women!" he muttered. "It passes all comprehension. My poor girl!"
"Do not pity me, sir," she said. "Perhaps——" she stopped.
"You think all may yet be well?" he said, with suppressed eagerness, and with a sudden flash of light in his eyes.
She did not reply, but he read her answer in her downcast face.
"It would save him!" he murmured. "But would it make you happy? My poor Violet——"
"If not, then nothing else will," she said, a deep red covering her face.