The sudden understanding of the strange events in which she had been forced to take so active a part not only paralysed Audrey, but made her feel as if this direct attack were quite a secondary matter.
For there was the question of the disappearance of the White Countess to be met. And though indeed she had heard nothing of the matter since the evening when she had seen the white-clad lady lying, as she believed, dead in the fitting-room, there was suddenly borne in upon her in all its dreadful force the conviction that this was not the end, that she would be forced to hear more about the tragedy by-and-by.
Instead, therefore, of indignantly meeting the charge thus unexpectedly brought against her by the viscount, she drew a long breath, tried to speak, faltered, and seeming to lose her physical strength and her courage at the same time, put out her hand for the support of the writing-table from which she had just risen, and leaned upon it, swaying slightly, and looking, as she felt, the picture of utter distress and dismay.
Absolutely as he believed in her guilt, Lord Clanfield, a chivalrous gentleman, to whom this duty of rescuing his sons from the clutches of the keeper of a gaming-house was utterly distasteful, was extremely distressed by her behaviour.
He was far too simple-minded and unsophisticated, being rather a quiet country gentleman than a man of the world, to have recognised at once, what a shrewder man would have done, the improbability that this fresh-looking young woman could be the same person as the notorious Madame Rocada, whose wiles had brought about the death of the son of his friend.
At the same time, the effect of her extraordinary beauty and of the straightforward dignity of her manner was such that he felt exceedingly uncomfortable, and almost wished that he had not insisted upon taking this matter into his own hands, instead of leaving it to be managed by his solicitors.
After what seemed to both a very long pause, he said, with a change of tone:—
“I regret exceedingly to be forced to this course, Madame Rocada. I have, however, no choice. My sons are, unfortunately, extravagant and difficult to control, and I have therefore thought it best to come straight to you, to ask you to help me in this matter.”
Now this speech, uttered in a much less severe tone than his previous words, showed a distinct advance in the direction of friendliness.
Whether or not there was already some doubt in the viscount’s mind, he seemed to wish to qualify his blunt accusation.