Sir Duke's eyes filled. "Great Heaven! Just--" he said.

"Be quiet for a little. You see she had taken Trafford into her scheme
against his will, for he was never good at mysteries and theatricals, and
he saw the danger. But the cause was a good one, and he joined the sweet
conspiracy, with what result these five years bear witness. Admiral
Lawless has been dead a year and a half, his wife a year. For he married
out of anger with Duke Lawless; but he did not marry Emily Dorset, nor
did he beget a child."

"In Australia I saw a paragraph speaking of a visit made by him and Lady
Lawless to a hospital, and I thought--"

"You thought he had married Emily Dorset and--well, you had better read
that letter now."

Sir Duke's face was flushing with remorse and pain. He drew his hand
quickly across his eyes. "And you've given up London, your profession,
everything, just to hunt for me, to tell me this--you who would have
profited by my eternal absence! What a beast and ass I've been!"

"Not at all; only a bit poetical and hasty, which is not unnatural in the
Lawless blood. I should have been wild myself, maybe, if I had been in
your position; only I shouldn't have left England, and I should have
taken the papers regularly and have asked the other fellow to explain.
The other fellow didn't like the little conspiracy. Women, however, seem
to find that kind of thing a moral necessity. By the way, I wish when
you go back you'd send me out my hunting traps. I've made up my mind
to--oh, quite so--read the letter--I forgot!"