"It is not possible, madam," he said, "that you could care as I care. It is not possible!" The spectators had returned to their seats. The curtain had risen upon the pageant of love and jealousy. These two did not heed it, save by lowering a little their already hushed voices. Miss Boyle had her back to the stage, and my lord did not notice what took place upon it. He did not know whether Roxana or Statira raved, or if Barry or Quin declaimed. "You must not think that of me," answered Miss Boyle. "When first I had your letter I thought St. Mary's vaults the sweetest place to be--the sunshine was like a sword--but I strove to justify your--what you thought of me--by some fortitude, and then it came to me, like a bird might come to a flower, how little it mattered." Rose Lyndwood sat motionless in the shadows of the box, only the lace round the raised hand that held his head trembling a little. "My lord," continued Miss Boyle, in a voice mournfully sweet, "thus I reason it--that sure knowledge we both have is so great a thing that--ah, 'tis as if we had been together in some pure temple that none other knew of, and the memory of it were enough. Even if the portals are forever closed, none can steal the picture we have of what lies beyond the doors--but you will smile at me and my poor fancies." His answer came unsteadily. "You have lost so little--God knows how little--but I have lost--everything." Her delicate breast heaved. "Have I given you nothing, my lord--nothing that you may keep always?" "You shame me," said Rose Lyndwood, "and I am too ignoble for these words you speak to me. I have been born and bred in folly, and in folly I must live and die, but I am not yet a patient fool to take this smilingly----" The manifold colours of the stage flashed and glittered. Roxana shrieked, and Statira lost her fire staring at an empty box, but these two saw nothing. The mantle slipped from Miss Boyle's shoulders, showing her pale, shining dress, and the tender curve of her chin and throat. The Earl spoke again: "Because I thought of you I was false to you; because I had you always in my thoughts I put you out of my life; but this you must have known, and I but mar with words my meaning. 'Tis when we strive to interpret our silences that we misunderstand one another." "About Marius?" breathed Miss Boyle. "Susannah wrote me somewhat----" "Yes," answered the Earl. "Marius is my lady's heir. He hath inherited all her affection for my dead lord, and she in her grief reproached me that I had ruined him, for it seems he hath fallen in love in a fantastical sad fashion. A year ago I had laughed at it, but now it weighed greatly with me. What had I been, thought I, had I met and won her when I was twenty-one? What may it not mean to Marius to win or lose this lady? I did not dare it should be through me. 'Twas my happiness or his, and I had not the right."