"I would it had not happened," answered Marius unsteadily. "I do not love to know things are like this--'tis as if I saw a mirror for the first time and saw myself there--a fool." Rose Lyndwood was silent; he picked up the quill in his fine slack hand and toyed with it. "My lord," continued Marius, breathing heavily, "it was not she--I never--I mean Aspasia." The Earl lifted his gaze from the idle pen and gave one of his sweet, swift smiles. "You will find Aspasia yet, my dear." The painful colour deepened in his brother's face. "That is not what I mean to say--last summer--you may have thought, might think, but she was never more than gracious--we only met by chance, that time. I--I never more than took her hand." He turned away abruptly, and the Earl saw his shoulders heave. "My lady was nothing but honoured by homage such as thine, Marius." A little silence fell, the bronze clock struck nine, and the unsnuffed candles cast a strong fluttering light over the two quiet figures and sent faint curls of smoke towards the high dark ceiling. Marius faced his brother again, containing himself by an extreme effort of his fierce young pride. "Is there anything I can do?" he said gallantly. "Anything I ought to say?" "Oh, Marius!" said my lord in his charming low voice, "'tis all as clear as glass!" "'Tis all miserable and horrible!" burst out Marius. "I would not have it so," his eyes were passionate and his voice rough, with tears maybe. Rose Lyndwood very faintly smiled, his lids had a weary droop, but under them his glance was keenly on his brother, who had begun to fumble in the ruffles at his breast. "You must take this now," he said more quietly, and pulled out a locket on a blue ribbon, "her picture"--he unfastened the ribbon and laid the miniature on the desk; "not like her, though--but like enough." "If you would care to keep it," said my lord, never lowering his eyes from the other's face. "I do not care," answered Marius, "that vision is over," he made an obvious attempt to speak quietly; "will you tell them that I have gone to London--I do not wish to see our lady mother about it, no, nor yet Susannah." The Earl rose. "I will tell them, but say good-bye to my lady or I shall be sorely blamed." He hesitated a moment, then with that modest, half-shy air with which he ever approached things, and which showed so pleasingly on his splendour, he half held out his hand. "You will always come to me--for anything, Marius?" he said. "I have done no good to you or to any, God knows; but since there are only two of us in the world--well, all this will be forgotten a year hence, but do not forget I am always there." He paled a little as he spoke, and a look of vast unhappiness troubled his deep eyes. Marius caught his hand and kissed it. "My lord, believe me, though I cannot speak," he choked and turned away. Rose Lyndwood leant against the back of the chair from which he had risen. "Good-night," he said.