"Money, of course, you scorn, my dear; but it is a thing not so easily ignored. I am entangled in debt." "You can do--you can do what Marius does." "A fair prospect to offer Miss Boyle." "That is between you and her. Go to her at least; put it to her, do not overlook her, pass her by----" "You are a curious lady," said my lord with a half-amused, half-wistful glance. "And now I have confessed myself a shallow, empty person I fear I have your scorn, but these things--position, money, and other fooleries--are facts." "It is also a fact that she is waiting," flashed Susannah. "And one that perchance outweighs those others." The Earl spoke in a softer voice. "On my soul I have not thought of it in such a fashion." "You are too fickle." "I have told you what I am, like the rest or any other." Miss Chressham turned her eyes away. "Not quite like any other, Rose, in so far that you will go to Bristol." "Ah, my dear, this is not the age of chivalry." "Still, you will go to Bristol?" She put out her hand, caught hold of the mantelshelf, and turning, faced him. "These are not things to speak of, it is getting late; I have to dress." Their eyes met across the twilit room; as a background to each was the glimmer of rich furniture, the handsome painted walls, the shifting shadows cast by the candle-light. "Are you going?" she asked. CHAPTER II SELINA BOYLE Rose Lyndwood paused a moment with his hand on the gate, and looked smilingly up at the sky, which was covered with dappled clouds, tinged with the gold pink of sunset. The scent from the box hedges was freshly pungent in the clear air, and the roses climbing over the front of the old red brick house had their perfume too, that came in breaths faintly as the breeze stirred. This was the home of Selina Boyle--where she had waited for him, Susannah said. My lord was not displeased with the thought; he persuaded himself that the affair had been sweetly romantic from the first. He almost persuaded himself that he had really cared for Miss Boyle. Certainly that night at the theatre---- He laughed a little; it could not but amuse him that he found himself there at all. His cousin's words had roused some emotion, exactly what he could not tell, but one strong enough to bring him here. It might have been vanity. He himself thought it curiosity. He had not met her since that night at the masque, when Sir Francis had come between; he had not even thought about her much, yet she had been waiting until he chose to remember. Certainly the reflection was pleasing. He had not the vaguest idea of what he should do or say. It was utterly against his nature to form plans on any subject, but the contemplation of her faithfulness softened him into a loverlike mood.