When Magdalen and Fay had departed, and Wentworth had seen them to the carriage, he came back and sat down by Michael.
"Not over-tired?" he said, smiling self-consciously, and poking holes in the turf with his stick.
"Not in the least."
"She was looking a little pale to-day." It was obvious that he wished to talk about Fay.
"She is more beautiful than ever," said Michael, willing to give his brother a leg-up.
"Isn't she!" said the affianced lover expansively. "But it isn't her beauty I love most, it is her character. She is so feminine, so receptive, so appreciative of the deeper side of life, so absolutely devoted. Her heart has been awakened for the first time, Michael. She has, I feel sure, never been loved before as I loved her."
"I imagine not."
"I can't believe she ever cared for the Duke. I saw him once, and he gave me the impression of a very cold-blooded individual."
"I don't think he was cold-blooded."
"Evidently not the kind of man capable of drawing the best out of a woman like Fay."