"Yes," answered the Earl. "Marius is my lady's heir. He hath inherited all her affection for my dead lord, and she in her grief reproached me that I had ruined him, for it seems he hath fallen in love in a fantastical sad fashion. A year ago I had laughed at it, but now it weighed greatly with me. What had I been, thought I, had I met and won her when I was twenty-one? What may it not mean to Marius to win or lose this lady? I did not dare it should be through me. 'Twas my happiness or his, and I had not the right."
"No," said Selina Boyle softly. "You had not the right; you are the elder of your house."
Leaning towards her, Rose Lyndwood answered:
"My life hath been amiss, as my lady reminded me, and Marius shall not be so shackled that his can be no better. If his romance is strong enough to save him from being the useless rake-helly fool I have been, somewhat hath been achieved; if not, at least I have tried to make amends, and he hath it in his own hands."
He paused a moment and pressed his handkerchief to his lips.
"Mine own deeds can I take on my own soul, but not the life of another man; so Marius is free."
Silence fell in the dark, narrow little box. Miss Boyle bent her head.
"You understand, madam?" asked the Earl, after a moment's agonised scrutiny of her averted face.
She gave a torn little sigh.