"You mean--about politics?" said Sir James, after a pause.
"Yes. Whenever I speak cheerfully to him, he asks me what there is to
live for. He has been driven out of politics--by a conspiracy--"
Sir James moved impatiently.
"With health he would soon recover everything," he said, rather shortly.
She made no reply, and her shrunken faded look--as of one with no energy
for hope--again roused his pity.
"Tell me," he said, bending toward her--"I don't ask from idle
curiosity--but--has there been any truth in the rumor of Oliver's
engagement to Miss Drake?"
Lady Lucy raised her head sharply. The light came back to her eyes.
"She was engaged to him, and three weeks after his accident she threw
him over."
Sir James made a sound of amazement. Lady Lucy went on:
"She left him and me, barely a fortnight afterward, to go to a big
country-house party in the north. That will show you--what she's made
of. Then she wrote--a hypocritical letter--putting it on _him_. _He_
must not be agitated, nor feel her any burden upon him; so, for _his_
sake, she broke it off. Of course, they were to be cousins and friends
again just as before.
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