“Yes,” he sighed, “worthy to be a Countess, but—” He drew his breath hard. Poor as he was, it seemed too terrible a sacrifice.
Then the temptation came upon him very strongly again. Rich, admired, beautiful, an enviable position; and, once she was married, the terrible disclosure that would some day perhaps come would not affect her.
“Colonel Mellersh; Mr Richard Linnell,” announced Isaac; and a feeling of jealous anger against the young man he had been obliged to invite came over him, but had to be hidden by a smile as the two new-comers advanced to Claire.
Denville watched them keenly; but Claire’s face was as calm as if they had been total strangers. She gave them both a most courteous greeting. That was all.
“Lord Carboro’,” announced Isaac.
There was a little excitement here, as the wealthy old beau entered, looking very keen and sharp, but very old; and as Denville saw him take Claire’s hand, the feeling of elation was swept away by a cold, despairing chill. It was impossible.
And yet, as his lordship stood chatting to the beautiful girl, Denville noticed that there was a change in her. She seemed brighter and more animated. She smiled at the old man’s remarks, and once more the impossible seemed to be growing possible, for Claire was only a woman, after all.
Colonel Mellersh saw this too, and half sneeringly turned to Richard Linnell.
“There,” he said, “much good you’ve done by making me bring you. I believe your syren has captivated old Carboro’.”
“Just look at the old man,” whispered Mrs Barclay to her husband. “Why, I declare, he’s quite gallant.”