"Yes"—Susannah roused herself—"but it is not of him I wish to speak."
She fixed her eyes searchingly on the easy rich figure of Rose Lyndwood and went faintly pale.
"You have heard that Sir Francis Boyle is married?"
"Yes"—he was still smiling—"to Miss Brett, a beauty and a fortune."
Susannah leant forward, resting her cheek in her hand, her elbow on the arm of the chair; her brow was anxious, and her gaze rested with painful attention on the Earl's calm countenance.
"When are you going to marry Selina Boyle?" she asked.
He gave her a quick look; she read nothing but surprise in his fair, fickle eyes.
"Of all things I had not expected this," he said, and laughed a little.
"You think I have no right to speak, but I am her friend, and I must ask how long will you keep her waiting?"