At his elbow lay the ivory framed mirror his brother had put down; it reflected the glimmer of his blue sleeve. "I am sorry," he repeated; "I had, however, better acquaint Marius--at once." He leant back in his chair and glanced from one to the other; his long grey eyes were half closed, and his disdainful, cold expression chilled and annoyed my lady. "Won't you acquaint me also, Rose?" she asked weakly. "I had better know." She was vaguely aware that with any personal misfortune he would never have troubled them; this, therefore, must be something overwhelming. The Earl looked at his brother, and Marius spoke. "Give me leave, my lady; let me hear what Rose has to say." His young face was serious and pale; the Countess clasped her hands and began to tremble. "It is about the estates. Susannah always said Mr. Langham mismanaged everything----" "Come into the library, Marius. We shall be back in half an hour." Lady Lyndwood sank on the leather settee. "There are no candles there, Rose, shall I ring?" Her anxious eyes appealed to him. "No," he answered, "this will suffice." He took one of the candles from the table and led the way from the room; Marius followed, very grave. The Countess heard them enter the next room and the door close after them. She glanced about her, at the scarf Marius had brought her, lying where she had let it slip, upon the hearth, at his mirror on the table, and beside it Rose's grey gloves and riding stock. The chamber grew unnaturally quiet; she was afraid to move; cruel memories that came to her always in the silences made her blood go cold; a look of age and suffering settled in her delicate face, she fixed her eyes on the portrait of her husband over the mantelshelf and clasped her hands tightly in her lap. CHAPTER III THE SECOND LETTER TO MISS SELINA BOYLE The Earl set the candle on the mantelshelf, and its feeble rays dimly revealed the massive handsome chamber, the rows of books on carved shelves, the dark pictures, the heavy furniture. Marius fingered his cravat, and was silent; he felt constrained and ill at ease--troubled, not so much by the threatened revelation of misfortune as by the presence of his magnificent brother, who was a more splendid gentleman than any he had seen. "I wished to tell you first and alone," said Rose Lyndwood, "for I dare swear my lady will make a scene." He leant against the wall by the fireplace, the candle-light full over him. His light brown hair was unpowdered and tied with a turquoise ribbon in his neck; he wore no jewels; the silk flowers, pink and red, on his waistcoat sparkled with threads of gold. His complexion was naturally pale; at the corner of his full lower lip a patch of black velvet cunningly cut into the shape of a bat showed in contrast with it. His delicate fair brows were slightly frowning, and his languid lids almost concealed his eyes. He did not seem to see Marius, shyly observing him.