"I never believed that she was Mark Brace's daughter," said Gregory Leslie; "she was so daintily beautiful—her grace was so complete, so high-bred, I could not fancy that she belonged to them. Was the mystery of her journey to Florence ever explained?"
"What mystery?" asked the earl, quickly; so quickly that Mr. Leslie thought that he had been wrong in naming it at all.
"There was some little confusion," he said. "Her face is very beautiful; it attracted great attention, and one of my fellow artists assured me that he had seen her in Florence, and that she was married."
"Nothing of the kind!" said the earl.
Then an uncomfortable conviction seized upon him. Could there be any truth in this? Could there be any truth in the idea—the suspicion that his wife entertained that all had not been well with Doris? Could there have been a mystery in that young life, so soon, oh, so soon ended?
The earl sighed deeply. It would be better, perhaps, to let it alone. If there had been anything wrong, it was too late to right it now. Let the dead past bury its dead. She was a Studleigh, and there were many of that race whose lives would not bear looking into. He dismissed the subject from his mind, and said to himself he would think of it no more.
"Who wants this picture?" he asked, abruptly. "I am sure that Lady Linleigh would like it."
"It is a strange coincidence that you should call this morning," said Mr. Leslie; "the gentleman who wishes so strongly for it appointed to meet me at two—it wants but ten minutes of the time. Will you wait and see him? Perhaps, under the circumstances, he might be willing for you to have the original, which I might copy."
Lord Linleigh was perfectly willing. He was rather surprised, however, when the door opened, to see—in the expected visitor—Lord Vivianne! Lord Vivianne—but so changed, so unlike himself, that it was with difficulty he recognized him. His hair was white as snow, his face furrowed with deep lines, haggard, careworn and miserable. He looked like a man bowed down with care, wretched beyond words.
When he saw Lord Linleigh he grew even more ghastly pale, and all sound died away on his lips.