"Not now," a touch of surprise was in her tone; "indeed I must go."
Again he made no reply, and she smiled at him and left him.
Marius returned again to Scarlatti, swaying a little to the music, the long lace at his wrists sweeping the ivory keys; and again he was interrupted.
The servant opened the door.
"The Countess of Lyndwood."
His brother's wife stepped into the chamber and stood facing him; for a moment he did not know her; he received the impression of a slight dark lady, of a vivid personality, gorgeously dressed.
She wore black velvet, a large hat with black plumes, and a silver scarf; at her breast was a cluster of pink geranium; she appeared utterly out of harmony with the delicate taste of the chamber.
"Good evening, Captain Lyndwood," she said.
He had not seen her since the Earl had turned her from the library at Lyndwood Holt, nearly a year ago; he opened his lips, but nothing came, and she laughed, pointing his silence.
"Are my lady and Miss Chressham out?" she asked, coming forward.