"Yes—does Mrs. Howard feel it very much?" and Michael's deep voice vibrated strangely.
"She spoke of it just now. Her lawyer arrives from New York to-day to consult with her what is best next to be done."
"And she never told you a thing about the fellow, Henry? How very strange of her, isn't it?"
Lord Fordyce's fine, gray eyes gleamed.
"Ah—Michael, if you had ever loved a woman, you would know that when you really do, you desire to trust her to the uttermost. Sabine would tell me and offered to at once if I wished, but—it all upsets her so—I agree with her—it is much happier for both of us not to talk about it. Only if there seems to be some hitch I will get her to tell me, so that I may be able to help her. I have a fairly clear judgment generally—and may see some points she and Mr. Parsons have neglected."
Michael gazed into the fire—at this moment his worst enemy might have pitied him.
"Supposing anything were to go really wrong, Henry, it would cut you up awfully, eh?"
And if Lord Fordyce had not been so preoccupied with his own emotions, he would have seen an over-anxiety on the face of his friend.
"I believe it would just end my life, Michael," he answered, very low. "I am not a boy, you know, to get over it and begin again."
Mr. Arranstoun bounded from his chair.