"Your bearing is out of joint with your fortune," she returned. "Ye speak proudly. It had been a finer pride that had prevented ye coming to tell your mother ye had disgraced your name thus!" The Earl looked away from her into the shadows at the far end of the room. "Prudence was not in my inheritance," he said slowly. "If you take it as a disgrace that my fortune was not equal to my position--" He broke off. "In any case, my lady, 'tis tedious and painful to discuss the matter." "You have no thought for me!" The Countess flung reproaches at him. "Oh, none at all! Nor what this means to me, or to Marius! Did you ever consider us when you wasted your father's heritage?" "My father?" repeated the Earl. "I have lived as he lived, only 'tis my misfortune to have faced the consequences." Lady Lyndwood very tightly clutched the back of the chair; the wavering candle-light sought out her face and showed it wild and sad beneath the loose blonde hair. Rose Lyndwood suddenly turned his beautiful head and looked at her. "Have you nothing but bitterness for me, my lady?" he asked. "I think of Marius," she answered. The Earl's face hardened again. "Marius has the world before him." "You have broken his heart--you! And to-night he came back to me so joyously! Listen! He met a lady abroad; he hoped to marry her." "At one-and-twenty?" Rose Lyndwood half smiled. "How many marry their first loves, my lady?" The Countess sank into the chair. "I did," she murmured in an uncontrolled voice, "and I had nothing but happiness." And she began weeping for the twelve years dead. "Marius was my lord's heir with you," said the Earl, "and I have brought you nothing but misfortune. Do not shed tears, my lady, and shame me, for maybe I can still sell myself to buy Marius his romance." The Countess struggled with sick sobs; half under her breath she murmured incoherent railings and feeble complaints. The Earl became paler as he listened to her. The candle was burning to the socket; the moonlight lay on the floor between them, in a shifting, widening patch. "I am returning to London to-night," said Rose Lyndwood at last. My lady got to her feet and supported herself against the side of the desk, holding her handkerchief to her eyes. "Go when you will," she answered; "nay, go soon, for I have no desire to see you in the house--let me be alone with Marius." A sudden gleam of anger shone through her weak tears. "Nay, I doubt not you have companions in London in whose society ye can soon forget my unhappiness." He made no answer, nor did he move, and without a look between them the Countess left the room. As the door closed after her the candle guttered and went out in the gust of air. For a moment or two the Earl walked up and down in the dark, crossing and recrossing the patch of moonlight. Then he returned to the withdrawing-room.