It was a most embarrassing moment. Lord Stuart, though he had plenty of nerve and _sang-froid_, never could recall to himself in exactly what words he had made his peace with the man he had sought to wrong in the long ago. He remembered that it had been uphill work at first, and that it was only when he had frankly told his story and sworn to Camille’s purity that the younger man had taken his hand and forgiven him. “Camille has been dead two years,” he said. “She had many faults. I thank you for proving her innocent of one;” and he sighed as he thought of the beautiful, erring woman who had loved him so madly, and whose mysterious sin he had punished by putting her away from him forever. He was half tempted for a moment to confess the truth to Lord Stuart, to tell him of Camille’s terrible sin, and to ask him if he knew what she had in common with Robert Lacy, his dead valet, that she should have murdered him; but a strange reluctance deterred him. Once he had loved Camille, and despite the persecution he had suffered at her hands, he could not bear to utter a harsh word against her now. Believing himself the only person alive who knew of her guilt, he could not betray her now, so he shut his lips over the unspoken words, and so passed the opportunity for a confidence between the two men that might have warded off the bitter sorrow that came to Norman later. Lord Stuart gazed curiously at him, and the impulse to betray all that he knew of the dead woman passed from his mind. “He does not suspect her. Why should I speak, now that she is dead and can do no more harm? Let him think as kindly of her as he can,” was his thought; and dismissing Camille from the conversation, he congratulated Norman on the wondrously beautiful bride he had won. “It is the loveliest face I ever saw, and the complexion is quite English. That pleases me, of course, for, although I admire your American beauties exceedingly, I am quite partial to English red and white,” he added, smiling. “I am glad that Thea compares favorably with your English beauties,” Norman said, carelessly. “But she is pure American. Her whole life has been spent in Virginia and Florida.” Then a sudden flush stained his cheek. He remembered suddenly that Thea was at least four years old when he found her, and that those four years of her life were a complete blank to him. From whence she came he had no idea. But he could not explain this to Lord Stuart. Their slight acquaintance did not warrant such confidence and familiarity. He remained silent a moment, then said, as though in dismissal of the subject: “My wife has been my ward from her childhood. When I was abroad with my mother she was at school in Virginia.” CHAPTER XLIX.