"I saw him last night."
"Last night? On this matter?"
The Earl looked at his cousin now; inscrutable still, however, the veiled expression of his beautiful eyes.
"Yes, he came to the St. James's to throw up his appointment because of this; he is a foolish romantical fellow; perhaps he wished to force a duel on me, I cannot tell."
Miss Chressham was silent. It seemed curious that Rose could speak in this fashion; folly, romance, and fire, were they all dead in his breast? He spoke of Sir Francis as an old man might of a boy, and he not much more than five-and-twenty himself.
"And for Miss Boyle's sake you refrained?" she asked.
"Why should I meet him?" he answered evasively. "I suppose she will marry him now; I think he is a good fellow."
"Oh, Rose!" cried Susannah impatiently. "Why do you seek to put me off? She told me what you had written to her—you know, as I know, that she will never marry him."
My lord was silent, and not all her sharp glances could discern from his immobile face what was passing in his mind.
"Sir Francis is impetuous," she continued; "but his situation is maddening, and he thinks, hopes, the thing is a lie."