"Ah, forgive me, it is good of you, Rose," she answered gently; "indeed, I am very glad to see you. I want to speak to you--and on a second matter now." They turned into the almost empty hall, where the play had been given. The dark curtain over the stage and the scattered few lights gave the place a mournful air. From the distance came the thin melody of the violins. "I must tell you," said Susannah, "though this is not the place. Still, a few words are best, and we need never refer to it again." Her powdered hair and bronze-coloured silk gown accentuated the pallor of her fair face. She looked tired, anxious, and her voice, for all her obvious effort at control, trembled on her words. "I have heard from Honoria Pryse." The Earl glanced at her sharply. "Why does she write to you?" "She writes concerning Marius"--Miss Chressham pressed her handkerchief to her lips. "Having fled with my lady's jewels, she kept silence at the time, nor does she now disclose her whereabouts; but she has had on her mind my lady's--the Countess Lavinia's--dying wish, and she writes to me. But I do not care to show you her letter, Rose." "Tell me what she says." "Yes, since it is by her--the Countess Lavinia's--desire that anyone speaks at all," answered Susannah. "I--I will strive to be brief and gentle." She took breath a moment. "It seems she followed you that night to Hyde Park," continued Susannah hurriedly; "she was there at the duel. God forgive her! She had previously drawn your pistol, finding occasion that evening when you left it set out in the library. I have not the details, but the bare facts suffice. She wished your death. I think perhaps she cared for--I would say she did not wish that Marius, your second, should bear the weight of her sin; so after she had made certain of her end she laid it on Honoria to confess to you. But the girl fled, thinking only of herself. Still, conscience has worked, and she sends to me this late avowal." The Earl had kept silence, was silent now. Susannah could read nothing from his pale profile. "I have to tell you, because it was her wish, and out of justice to Marius," she said, "not to blame the dead." "I might have known," replied my lord, and he half smiled. "I will write to Marius." "I always believed in him," breathed Susannah, "so did my lady. Do not let us speak of it any more. I must be leaving soon; but first"--she raised her eyes--"Selina?" The violins were playing a gavotte. My lord's long fingers beat time to the measure on the hilt of his rapier. "She hath refused me," he answered. "Is it farce or tragedy we play? I know not. She is a creature of gossamer, of sentiment. What has passed makes our marriage as impossible to her as sordid matters would have made it impossible to me." "However, she believes you care," breathed Susannah, divining suddenly Selina's view. The Earl bent his head.