"And I," said Rose Lyndwood, "was thinking not of you nor of myself, but of Miss Hilton; is it not possible for you to comprehend that?"
The expression of baited anger returned to Mr. Hilton's intent face.
"What does this mean?" he asked. "That ye seek to evade what ye have pledged yourself to, my lord?"
"Leave the matter, I pray you"—it was almost as if he addressed his servant—"I spoke from a passing impulse, a foolish one." He picked up his hat from the linen cover of the settee; his manner closed the subject.
Mr. Hilton, baffled but appeased, was silent, fondling his watch-chain.
"Monday will be convenient to me," said Lord Lyndwood. "I shall look to see you then, at my house, about twelve of the clock. My lawyer will be acquainted."
"And the betrothal shall be made public at once," assented Mr. Hilton.
He glanced up at Rose Lyndwood and was surprised into an exclamation.
"What is the matter?" asked the Earl quietly.
"You looked so pale, my lord; I thought you were ill."