"Indeed, I am too tired. And now my lord is waiting."
"Marius may come this evening. There are many of his things here. Do you see him, then say I blame him for this desertion."
With that the Countess kissed her niece and left the room in a flutter of golden embroideries. She was as gay, in her delicate lady's way, as Rose, and as extravagant. Susannah sometimes wondered what the dowager Lady Lyndwood would do if the money failed, and she thought she could guess. The Countess had the light way of taking things that would allow her to marry again, and still remain true to the one passion and tragedy of her life—the love and death of the Earl.
Miss Chressham went to the window and watched the Countess, by the light of the link-boys' torches, being handed into the coach by Lord Willouby, who had been waiting for her patiently in the great empty drawing-room below.
Susannah saw them drive off, then let the curtains fall. She felt sad yet excited at a tension not to be explained. Everything had ended more quietly than she could have expected, yet she felt as if on the verge of great events.
Rose had met Sir Francis, and nothing had happened. The Gazette scandal appeared to have blown over; there had been no word from Selina Boyle since last night.
Marius had taken his answer quietly. She was sorry he had left them, frankly regretting his company, but she respected his motives, one of which she suspected to be the desire to avoid the Countess Lavinia, who could no longer, with any shadow of a decent excuse, seek him out for her amusement.
Poor Marius! Susannah thought of him with tenderness. He had behaved very well; he had finer stuff in him than had Rose, but——
Her reflections touched the state of the Earl's fortunes. She told herself that it must be this casting a gloom over her spirits.