CHAPTER XXIV "LOVE CROWNS THE DEED"
The duke stood on the pavement outside Lord Camborne's house in Grosvenor Street.
It was still pouring heavy drops of rain, which beat a tattoo upon his umbrella.
He glanced back at the massive green-painted door which the butler had just closed behind him. Never again would that hospitable door open for him! He would see none of his kind friends any more. Gerald, who had been as a brother to him for so long, would never shake him by the hand again—he knew Lord Hayle's temperament too well to expect it.
Constance, beautiful, frank, and stately, had vanished from his life. The earl, a prince of the Church and a princely old man, would never again tell him his genial and courtly stories of the past.
The duke stood there alone. Alone!—the word tolled in his ears like a bell, making a melancholy accompaniment to the rain.
He began to walk towards Bond Street in a shaken and melancholy mood.
How swift and strange it all was! How a few months had altered all his life, utterly and irrevocably! An infinitesimal time back he had not a care in the world. He was Prince Fortunatus, enjoying every moment of his life and position in a dignified and becoming fashion.
And what was he now?
He laughed a small, bitter laugh as he asked himself the question. He was still the Duke of Paddington, the owner of millions, the proprietor of huge estates, perhaps the most highly-placed young man in England. Even now it was not too late to undo much of what he had done. Everything would be condoned and forgiven to such a man as he.