“It’s a lie!” stammered Martin. “You say it so that I shan’t meet Ulverston! I’ll not believe it!”
Gervase made him no answer. He was standing before the fire, and he neither looked at Martin nor seemed to attend to his words, but stirred one of the logs in the grate with his foot, and meditatively watched the shower of sparks fly up the chimney. A hasty movement on Martin’s part made him glance up, but Martin had only flung over to the curtained window, as though desirous of putting as much space as possible between himself and his half-brother, and the Earl lowered his eyes again to the fire.
“She might have told me!” burst from Martin.
“Yes.”
“She knew I — she knew — !”
“She is young, and a little heedless.”
“Heedless! Oh, no! Not that! A title — a great position! Those were the things she wanted! She is very welcome to them! If you had offered she would have accepted you! If you were dead, and I stood in your shoes, she would take me, and Ulverston might go hang!”
“You would scarcely want her upon such terms.”
“On any terms!” Martin declared wildly. “She is the only woman I shall ever love!”
The Earl diplomatically refrained from commenting upon this assertion. If there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes, Martin did not see it.