"You will think hardly of them," said Susannah; her voice, her eyes, her pose expressed intense excitement.
Rose Lyndwood smiled.
"Nay, I am the culprit;" he hesitated a moment, then his voice fell beautifully soft, "do not you think hardly of me?"
"I!" she smiled bravely; "I—I understand."
"I will write soon, to you and to my lady."
He moved towards the window, and the sweet breeze stirred the loose hair on his forehead.
Miss Chressham followed him.
"We shall see you again?" She bit her lip, and the colour rose under her eyes.
"Ah, soon." He took her hand and kissed it; she saw the white corner of the letter addressed to Miss Boyle showing from the glimmering brocade of his waistcoat, and her mouth tightened.
"My duty to my lady," said the Earl; "and—you will know what to tell them—good-night."