“There are things,” he said, “which troubled me little at the time, but which just lately have been on my mind.  The first is that I am nearly fifty, and Lady Angela is twenty-one.  The second is that I came home with all the tinsel and glamour of a popular hero.  Heaven knows I loathed it, but the fact remains.  The King’s reception, the V.C., and all that sort of thing, I suppose, accounted for it.  Anyhow, I am troubled with this reflection.  Lady Angela was very young, and I fear that her imagination was touched.  She accepted my offer, and she has been very loyal.  Until to-night no word of disagreement has passed between us.  But there have been times lately when I have fancied that I have noticed a change.  A time has come now when I could give her back her freedom without reproach on either side.  I want to know whether it is my duty to give it her back.”

Then Ray looked straight into my face, and the colour flamed there, for I saw now why he had made me his confidant.

“What do you think, Guy?  You are only a boy, but you are of her age, and you have seen a little of her lately.  You are only a boy, but then only boys and novelists understand women.  Speak up and tell me what is in your mind.”

“I will tell you this,” I answered hotly.  “If I were you, and Lady Angela had promised to be my wife, I would not sit and hatch scruples about marrying her.  I would marry her first, and make her happy afterwards, and as for the rest—­for the questions which you have asked me, and yet not put into words—­I have never heard or seen in Lady Angela the slightest sign that you were not her lover as well as the man whom she was engaged to marry.  As for my own folly, since you seem to have noticed it, no one knows better than I that it is the rankest, most absurd presumption.  But with me it begins and ends.  That is a most absolute and certain fact.”

Ray rapped his pipe upon the table.

“Listen,” he said.  “I found you nameless and practically lost.  Yet you have powerful relatives, and your family is equal to the Duke’s.  There may be money too some day.  Bear these things in mind.  Can you repeat what you have said?”

It was a wild dream—­a wonderful one.  But, before me I saw the stern white face of the man, eager for his share of happiness after all these magnificent years of dauntless service.  I forgot my own distrust of him, his coldness, his brutality.  I remembered only those other and greater things.

“Even were I in such a position,” I said, “it would make no difference.  I am sure that Lady Angela is loyal.  She has no idea—­and it is not worth while that she should have.”

“You would have me marry her, then?” he asked slowly.

“There is only one thing,” I said, taking my courage into my hands.

“And that?” he asked sharply.

“That,” I answered, “lies between you and your conscience.”

He rose to his feet.