"So far as a very unhappy woman can forgive the dearest friend she has in the world." She thought for a moment, then, speaking eagerly, "What time did this happen?"
"At eight this morning, madam."
"Do you know that was the time of the early service?"
"I was thinking of that."
"Sydney, when I knelt before the Table, I saw you at my side!"
"To-day I have been at peace," said my Lord.
"I, too, Sydney. You have news for me. Why keep it back?"
"Madam, I have news. I want to turn my back—for once, upon my Lady. May I?"
He crouched at her feet again, looking away across the lake, the garden trees, and the white cloud flecks, even to where the sun was, westward.
"I must speak," he said in a low voice, "of Ulster, who is reputed to be my father. I don't think I have any bitter thoughts left, but I would not claim this man for my father. My mother was a gentlewoman, and is with the angels. That she was his wife so tarnishes her sacred memory that I would rather believe her mistaken in supposing the Duke of Ulster to be my father."