"Not so. It is as certain that you are the rightful Earl of Ormsby as it is that the sun is shining."
"But how? In what way?" cried Idris, impressed, in spite of himself, by her air of conviction.
"That I cannot tell. I am trying to find out."
"I thank you, Lady Walden, for interesting yourself in my fortunes, but supposing that your surmise should prove correct—what then?"
"You will take the title and station that are rightfully yours."
"And, by so doing, deprive you of your position? No, Lady Walden, I cannot do that. If, as is implied by your words, you are seeking to prove that I have a claim to the Earldom of Ormsby, I would ask you to desist. Let matters be as they are. I am quite content to remain plain Idris Breakspear, and to leave to you the coronet of the Ravengars. I do not believe that I am of noble birth, but in any case I will do nothing detrimental to your position."
"My position!" thought Lorelie, bitterly, as she recalled the attempt made upon her life. "Heaven help me to escape from my position! But," she said, aloud, "you are doing a wrong to your future wife. She may not appreciate the generosity that deprives her of a coronet."
"My future wife!" smiled Idris. "I shall never marry."
"And why not?"
"They do not love who love twice."