"You had better go to London as you proposed," said my lord. "There is nothing for you to do here, and Lord Willouby will be expecting to see you."
Marius came up to the desk.
"Yes, I will go, sir—only, this——"
He stopped; the Earl pushed back his chair and looked up.
Marius was flushed, his lips taut and his forehead strained to a frown; he appeared piteously young to have such an expression of gravity on his fair face.
"What would you say?" asked his brother gently.
"The money," said Marius huskily and bluntly. "I could not—Mr. Hilton's money—her money;" he seemed to choke over the word, then added desperately, "she taunted us with it."
"For the last time," answered my lord quietly, gazing with resolute grey eyes at the younger man's troubled countenance, "and she shamed herself, not us—what is she but a boarding-school Miss? and the money is mine, Marius, no gift, but something earned, by God, earned."
"I would it had not happened," answered Marius unsteadily. "I do not love to know things are like this—'tis as if I saw a mirror for the first time and saw myself there—a fool."