A white rose joined its fallen brethren, pulled to pieces by fingers that trembled pitifully.
"Mr. Carr, if the lady ... loved you ... is it quite fair to her--to say nothing?"
There was a long silence, and then my lord lied bravely.
"I hope that she will--in time--forget me," he said.
Diana sat very still. No more roses were destroyed; the breeze wafted the fallen petals over her feet, lightly, almost playfully. Somewhere in the hedge a bird was singing, a full-throated sobbing plaint, and from all around came an incessant chirping and twittering. The sun sent its bright rays all over the garden, bathing it in gold and happiness; but for the two in the pleasaunce the light had gone out, and the world was very black.
"I see," whispered Diana at last. "Poor lady!"
"I think it was a cursed day that saw me come into her life," he groaned.
"Perhaps it was," her hurt heart made answer.
"I can only hope that she will not think too hardly of me," he said, very low. "And that she will find it in her heart to be sorry--for me--also."
She rose and came up to him, her skirts brushing gently over the grass, holding out her hands imploringly.
He would not allow himself to look into the gold-flecked eyes.... He must remember Dick--his brother Dick!
In his hand he took the tips of her fingers, and bowing, kissed them. Then he turned on his heel and strode swiftly away between the hedges towards the quiet woods, with a heart aflame with passion, and with rebellion and impotent fury. He would go somewhere quite alone and fight the devil that was prompting him to cry the truth aloud and to throw aside his burden for love, forgetting duty.
But Diana remained standing among the scattered flowers, very still, very cold, with a look of hopeless longing in her eyes and a great hurt.
Jim Salter folded one of my lord's waistcoats, and placed it carefully in an open valise; then he picked up a coat, and spread it on the bed preparatory to folding it in such wise that no crease should afterwards mar its smoothness. All about him my lord's clothing was strewn; Mechlin ruffles and cravats adorned one chair, silk hose another; gorgeous coats hung on their backs; shoes of every description, red-heeled and white, riding boots and slippers, stood in a row awaiting attention; wigs perched coquettishly on handy projections, and piles of white cambric shirts peeped out from an almost finished bag.