"I am the best judge of that; and surely if I am content it is all right."
"But it isn't all right, Wrexham; I love some one else."
Lord Wrexham shaded his face with his hand. "Well?" was all he said, but the voice in which he said it was not his own.
Isabel's eyes were full of pity as she looked at him. "I will be candid with you at last," she said, "but please remember that it was myself I was deceiving, and not you. Even I could not sink so low as to wilfully deceive such a good man as you are."
"My dear, do not excuse yourself to me. Remember that whatever you do or leave undone I shall never blame you, nor allow any one else to do so. My queen can do no wrong."
"I was angry with Paul Seaton because I thought he had ceased to love me," continued Isabel hurriedly, "I had no right to think so, but I got the idea into my head and it would not go. And I was so wild with anger and misery, that I said hard and cruel things to him that can never be forgiven; and I drove him out of my life, and pretended that I did not mind."
"My poor, wayward, petulant child!"
"And then I persuaded myself that I did not care for the deeper things of life, but could be happy with money and rank and pleasure and such trifles as these. And people flattered me and admired me, and I thought that I was content, and that my love for Paul had been only a girlish fancy."
Lord Wrexham drew his breath hard, but he did not speak.
"But after a time I found myself growing hard and bitter, and I knew that my youth was going, and that I had nothing to show for it. And then you came by, and offered me everything that society counts worth having. I was a woman of the world, and I knew that if I became Lady Wrexham my apparent failure would be changed into a glorious success. So I accepted you."