"Since you are not involved, Susannah, in my unfortunate affairs, I have the less reluctance."

Still she could not see his face, the moonlight dazzled her straining eyes.

"Not involved!" she murmured.

Lord Lyndwood pulled his gloves off slowly.

"I have come home to tell my lady and Marius that I am ruined."

She did not move nor speak.

"The estate hardly meets its own mortgage, and the land has been so neglected as to be almost valueless." He quoted his last steward's report, though she did not know it. "My lady does not realise this?" he questioned.

"She realises nothing—how should she? you have kept us in ignorance."

"By Gad, I only knew myself a few days ago," said the Earl. "When I was forced to look into the cursed business."

"But Marius has his money?" cried Susannah.

"Marius has not a penny! It will be pleasant telling him so, will it not?"

Susannah rose.

"I do not understand."

"Marius never had any money, my lord dying so suddenly without a will—Brereton was our guardian, and a careless one."

"Careless!" interrupted Susannah Chressham. "There has been fine carelessness here——"

"Damned carelessness," answered the Earl with a short laugh. "And when Brereton died and I took over my own affairs—I'm afraid I didn't improve on it. But Marius has not been stinted."

"No, and now you are going to tell him he is a pauper," said Susannah. "Now, when he is full of plans, of hopes—oh, Rose, Rose!"

A little silence fell; very strong was the perfume of the violets, very delicate too, insistent. Susannah spoke again.

"The lawyers must have warned you."

"I left their warnings behind me two years ago, when I first went to the Jews, my dear."

"Then—you are—in debt?"

She felt that he smiled.

"A good deal in debt."

"And my lady?"

"My lady has some money of her own, not much—the estate must go."

"Oh, Rose!" she gave a little gasp; "is there no way out—nothing to be done?"

The Earl appeared amused.

"Nothing, my dear. I have, naturally, tried—now we will go to the house."

She did not move.

"There must be something we can do?"

The misery of her voice touched him.

"It is good of you to care so, cousin—I might have expected reproaches."

"Since I am in no way involved," she quoted his sentence—"is that what you want to say, Rose?—but my whole life is involved," she added almost dreamily. "Lyndwood to go—you ruined, you and I to tell Marius and my lady so to-night?"

She looked over the quiet park and saw the peaceful lights in Lyndwood House, and she could not believe her own words.

"Ruin!" she repeated.

The Earl came towards her.

"Are you thinking of Marius?"

"No," said Susannah, "of you."

"I am the least to be considered," he answered.

"The most!" she cried. "Could you help what was in your blood?—I knew this must happen, though now I hardly credit it—I knew this must happen."

Rose Lyndwood sighed lightly.

"Let us go on to the house."

But she stood in the doorway.

"Tell me what you mean to do?"

"I do not know—it will be according to how they take it—my lady and Marius."

He fingered the ends of his long tie.

"For myself," he lifted his shoulders, "I could get the appointment at Venice, easily, and the place in Ireland would pay some of them; I do not know what Marius will expect."

"Poor Marius!" she echoed softly. "Remember he is only a boy, Rose."

She stepped into the open now; he following.

"A Lyndwood, too—there is the army, or I would give him the estate in Genoa."

"He says it is worth nothing," cried Miss Chressham, trembling—"and in Italy!"

Lord Lyndwood had no reply to that; he wrapped his cloak about him, and his cousin preceded him down the steps.

For a little while they went along the avenue in silence, she holding up her dress, he swinging his gloves.

"Will you tell them to-night?" she asked.

"I must get back to London as soon as may be;" he glanced up at the great chestnut leaves that hid the stars—"to-night? Gad, I suppose so."

After a moment he added:

"Neither my lady nor Marius will understand, and I cannot explain, so it is very quickly over—one word, after all."

"Ruin," said Susannah Chressham.

"It has been the Lyndwood way, has it not? It is twelve years to-morrow since they brought my father home—do you remember?"

"Yes," she answered.

"He tried to speak to me," said the Earl softly. "I knew what he meant—be generous to Marius. That occurred to me last night when I faced it, and that it would also be the easiest way for me—a duel in Hyde Park."

He laughed.

And Susannah Chressham was silent.

They turned the bend of the avenue and saw before them the straight front of Lyndwood House.

When they came to the foot of the steps Susannah held out her hand.

"Good-night, Rose; you will find them in the withdrawing-room—you do not want me—I shall go upstairs. Good-night."

He kissed her fingers.

"In the withdrawing-room? I will go round by the garden; good-night."

They parted; she to enter the house, he to make his way through the roses and laurels to the terrace at the back.

The long windows still stood open as Susannah had left them; the gleam of candle-light fell over the stone balustrade and the flowers, the hyacinths, pinks, and tulips.

Rose Lyndwood heard voices, light, laughing voices, and the rustle of silk; he stepped into the light and saw the Countess standing on the hearth.

In her fair hands she held a fine lace scarf that fell over her gleaming dress, and she was looking at Marius, who showed her an ivory framed mirror, wonderfully carved.

The Earl pushed the window a little wider open and entered the room.

"Rose!" cried his mother in a frightened voice.

Marius laid down the mirror and flushed; two years of change in each of them had sufficed to make his brother a stranger to him.

Lord Lyndwood swept off his hat and crossed the room to kiss his mother's hands.

She flushed and fluttered into her usual sweet aimless talk.

"La! you startled me, Rose; we expected you to-morrow—and have you walked?—and I protest you have not noticed Marius!"

"My horse fell lame and I left him at the lodge." The Earl turned to his brother—"Good evening, Marius."

They looked at each other, and the younger man was overawed and abashed; then he laughed awkwardly.

"I scarcely know you, my lord."

Rose Lyndwood smiled.

"Two years, Marius—you also have altered."

He unclasped his cloak and flung it over a chair.

The Countess glanced at him.

"Is anything the matter?" she asked suddenly.

"Can you see so much?" He was still smiling. "Yes, but I will not trouble you with it yet, my lady."

He crossed to the table.

"I must speak to Marius."

An expression of annoyance clouded Lady Lyndwood's fair face.

"This is a poor home-coming, Rose. I have not seen you for months—and 'tis the first evening I have had Marius."

The Earl seated himself at the table.

"I am sorry," he said.

At his elbow lay the ivory framed mirror his brother had put down; it reflected the glimmer of his blue sleeve.

"I am sorry," he repeated; "I had, however, better acquaint Marius—at once."

He leant back in his chair and glanced from one to the other; his long grey eyes were half closed, and his disdainful, cold expression chilled and annoyed my lady.

"Won't you