Rose Lyndwood laughed.
"You are a sweet moralist, my dear, and, by Gad! I don't deserve your interest."
She broke in, pushing back the heavy fair hair from her face.
"I am not talking of myself," she bit her lip in agitation, "but of Selina Boyle. I think you are going to behave dishonourably, Rose."
The Earl was silent. The glow of the fire, showing more strongly in the darkening room, struck vividly on his red dress, and cast a warm colour over his half-averted face.
"She hath been very faithful to you," said Susannah in a low voice. "Even had you not asked it of her she would never have married, for your sake, and she is a noble nature. Ah, you should be proud; there are not many such as she."
Still my lord did not speak, but his beautiful mouth trembled a little.
"And she thinks you care," continued Miss Chressham. "And if you do not, what has she for her devotion? She was the belle of two years ago. Sir Francis married the belle of this—all the town knew that he and you met because of her—all the town read that paragraph in the Gazette, and none of this is anything to her, if you care; if not—" she moved from the mantelshelf, and sudden passion touched her voice, "it is hard for women who wait."
The Earl raised his head.
"She does not know me," he said softly. "What can I do?"