"Well—I think not," she answered. "I am a little tired, and it is almost time the dressing bell rang. I think Sybil and I will go up-stairs."
They passed away—he made no effort to detain them. He lit a cigarette, and paced the room impatiently. At last he rang the bell.
"Where is Mr. Brooks?" he asked.
"Mr. Brooks has only just returned, my lord," the man answered. "He went some distance with the young lady. He has gone direct to his room."
Lord Arranmore nodded. He threw himself into his easy-chair, and his head sank upon his hand. He looked steadfastly into the heart of the red coals.
CHAPTER XIX
THE MARQUIS MEPHISTOPHELES
"I am so sorry," she said, softly, "our last evening is spoilt."
He shook his head with an effort at gaiety.
"Let us conspire," he said. "You and I at least will make a struggle."