“Who knows of all this—of who I am, Soolsby?”
“Lady Eglington and myself, my lord.”
“Only she and you?”
“Only us two, Egyptian.”
“Then let it be so—for ever.”
Soolsby was startled, dumfounded.
“But you will take your title and estates, my lord; you will take the place which is your own.”
“And prove my grandfather wrong? Had he not enough sorrow? And change my life, all to please thee, Soolsby?”
He took the old man’s shoulders in his hands again. “Thee has done thy duty as few in this world, Soolsby, and given friendship such as few give. But thee must be content. I am David Claridge, and so shall remain ever.”
“Then, since he has no male kin, the title dies, and all that’s his will go to her ladyship,” Soolsby rejoined sourly.