Lady Dorothy was still standing with her gaze riveted on the pair. She saw the whole affair at a glance, and her heart seemed to grow cold within her.
"Yes, Lady Dorothy," said Winn, coming to the Earl's rescue, "Olive and I have loved one another for ten years, although separated most of the time. We have met again, and she has promised to be my wife."
There was a moment's dead silence. Olive glanced up timidly, and her gaze met that of Lady Dorothy. Both women knew that the other loved Alan Winn; but one counted her love by years, the other by days. One had dreamed, hoped, counted on being his wife, and she had lost. The other knew all this, and her heart went out in sympathy to her rival.
Lady Dorothy looked at the pretty flushed face; the grey eyes seemed almost pleading in their wistfulness. She felt she could not hate this girl. With a sudden movement she stepped forward and held out her hands. Olive grasped them eagerly.
"I hope," said Lady Dorothy, and her voice had a slight tremor in it—"I hope you'll be very, very happy."
Then she released her hold of Olive, and, without another word, hurried away. The Earl turned his head and watched his daughter disappear. There was a suspicious moisture about his eyes as he faced Winn again.
"You two would perhaps like to be alone," he said, forcing a smile, "so I'll wish you au revoir for the present," and he too hastened away.
The pair stood silent for a moment. Then she touched him lightly on the arm. He bent his head and looked at her inquiringly.
"What is it, dearest?" he asked.
"I hope," she said, softly, "that some day she will marry someone worthy of her—someone whom she will love as much—" she paused, and looked into his face—"as much as I love you."