"No," she cried, with a sudden burst of wild and terrible grief. "I didn't, I didn't, I didn't! He wasn't mine to give."
I hesitated, wondering whether to tell her that Ruddington had indeed been hers to give, because he was willing to sacrifice himself to the end. But I decided not to try her poor wits any more.
"You are wrong, Susan," I said gently. "It's true he wasn't yours to give. But you believed he was. It is all the same. Gibson, she gave up money, and luxury, and a splendid name, all for you!"
"And, if you please, Ma'am," demanded Gibson, "how do we know all this is true? If it wasn't Susan he saw in Derlingham, who was it? If he didn't fall in love with Susan, who did he fall in love with? If he doesn't want to marry Susan, who is it that he does want to marry? No, Ma'am, I'm not taking any more risks. To-morrow, perhaps, we shall find it's Susan after all."
I turned to beckon towards the high bush. But Ruddington was already over the stones, I saw him and held my tongue. He came so quietly, so masterfully, that I knew I had only to listen and look on.
"You are Susan?" he said kindly in her ear.
Susan looked up and gave a piercing shriek.
"It's him, it's him!" she screamed.
"Don't be afraid, Susan," he said gently. "Miss Langley has told you that you have no more to fear. Some other day, you shall know all. To-night, let me just tell you, on my honour, that it was not my fault. If it had been my fault, I should never forgive myself for causing you all this worry and pain. Depend on me to do all I can to make you and Gibson happy. Tell me that you will try to forgive me."
"Oh, sir!" panted Susan.--"I mean, Your Lordship! So it wasn't never me at all?"