"Of old, my lord, I have sometimes talked to some purpose."
"Talk again, then. What do you mean by disservice? You will say next, I suppose, that this play acting was fortunate for me."
"We may sometimes turn disasters into victories. If your lordship will listen——"
His patron sat down again—the late storm leaving its trace in a scowling face and twitching lips.
"Why the devil was not Molly there? How did this woman find out? How did she know that Molly was not coming?"
"I can answer these questions," said the lady. "Molly would not come because she learned last night, just in time, certain facts in the private life of the bridegroom——"
"What?" Lord Fylingdale betrayed his terror. "She has heard? What has she heard?" He had not, as you have heard, received Molly's letter, nor had he opened the captain's letter. Therefore, he knew nothing.
"She had heard more than enough. You have lost your bride and her fortune. I might have warned you, but I preferred to take her place."
"What has she heard?"
"Apparently, all that there is to be heard. Not, of course, all that could be told if Mr. Purdon were to speak. Merely things of public notoriety. That you are a gambler and a rake; that you have ruined many; that you are ruined yourself. Oh! Quite enough for a girl of her class to learn. In our rank we want much more before we turn our back upon a man. I, myself, know much more. Yet I have married you."