"I tell you the truth," Lord Mountfalcon went on. "What object could I have in deceiving you? I know you quite above flattery—so different from other women!"
"Oh, pray, do not say that," interposed Lucy.
"According to my experience, then."
"But you say you have met such—such very bad women."
"I have. And now that I meet a good one, it is my misfortune."
"Your misfortune, Lord Mountfalcon?"
"Yes, and I might say more."
His lordship held impressively mute.
"How strange men are!" thought Lucy. "He had some unhappy secret."
Tom Bakewell, who had a habit of coming into the room on various pretences during the nobleman's visits, put a stop to the revelation, if his lordship intended to make any.