The very second that they were alone, Mordryn began to talk openly to her. He had determined to have no further cross purposes of any kind.
"Do you guess, Seraphim, what has brought me here to-day?" he asked.
"I have some shrewd idea—you have decided to appreciate reality and discard appearance, as my Katherine Bush would say."
"That is it. Have I your sympathy, dear friend?"
"My warmest sympathy, Mordryn; your happiness means a very great deal to me. I have had some horrible moments in those past years, of remorse for my part in your sorrows—but if you secure this girl, I can feel that you will be amply compensated."
"I am deeply in love, Seraphim, and you, I know, will not laugh at me, or think it absurd."
She gave him a frank smile full of affection.
"Indeed, no—and what is more important, the girl will not laugh either. She is full of passion, Mordryn—have you ever watched her little nostrils quiver? You will have no colourless time with her! She is not of the type of poor Läo Delemar, Gerard's friend, or Julia Scarrisbrooke! The fierce red blood rushes through her veins!—But she is too entirely self-controlled to let even me see what her real feelings are, though I shrewdly suspect she is in love with you—You, the man, Mordryn—and not, strange to say, the Dukedom at all!"
His Grace thrilled with delight—as why not, indeed! Of all beautiful and maligned things, he knew real passion was the rarest!
"If it had been the Dukedom, she could have tantalized me into committing any madness—weeks ago—but she has done nothing of the sort. She has simply understood, that is the wonderful part."