But he drew her back, telling her it was only a sunbeam shining on the dead face—that she was dead, and would never smile again.
"Only touch one hand," he said; "there is nothing so cold as death."
She could only cry out, "her darling! her darling!" Oh, for the days that were gone—spent without her! How dearly she would love her if she would but come back again!
Lord Linleigh was always thankful that he had brought her there alone; and though he knew such indulgence in violent sorrow to be bad for her, he would not ask her to go away until it was almost exhausted; then he knelt down by her side.
"Estelle," he said, "you remember that it was for your father's sake we resolved to keep this secret—nay, we promised to do so. You must not break this promise now. You kept it while our darling lived; keep it still. Control your sorrow for your father's sake. Kiss the quiet lips, love, and tell our darling that you will keep our secret for all time."
She had exhausted herself by passionate weeping and passionate cries, she obeyed him, humbly and simply, as though she had been a child. She laid her quivering lips on the cold white ones, and said:
"I shall keep our secret, Doris."
Then he led her away.
That same day Lord Linleigh sent telegrams to the Duke and Duchess of Downsbury and to Brackenside. Before the noon of the next day the duke and duchess had reached Linleigh Court. The duke took an active part in all the preparations for the ceremony of interment. The duchess shut herself up in her daughter's room, and would not leave her. Later on in the day Mark and Mrs. Brace came: their grief was intense. Lord Linleigh little knew how near he was then to the solving of the mystery; but the same carefully prepared story was told to them as was told to every one else—a burglar had broken into her room, and, in the effort to give an alarm, Lady Doris Studleigh had been cruelly murdered. Nothing was said of the crushed bridal wreath or the torn wedding-dress.
Honest Mark never heard that there was any other mystery connected with the murder than the wonder of who had done it. Perhaps had he told the story of Lord Vivianne's visit to Brackenside, it would have furnished some clew; but the earl was deeply engrossed and troubled. Mark never even remembered the incident. Had he heard anything of the captain's suspicions, he might have done so. It did not seem to him improbable that the young girl had been slain in the effort to save her jewelry; and jewel robberies, he read, were common enough.