Had she indeed been his sister, he would probably have turned the key upon her.
He entered the earl's chamber, but not many seconds did he remain in it.
"It is over," he whispered to Mrs.Mason, whom he met in the corridor, "and Mr.Wainwright is asking for you." "You are soon back," cried Isabel, lifting her head.

"May I go ?" He sat down and took her hand, shrinking from his task.
"I wish I could comfort you!" he exclaimed, in a tone of deep emotion.
Her face turned of a ghastly whiteness--as white as another's not far away.
"Tell me the worst," she breathed.
"I have nothing to tell you but the worst.

May God support you, dear Lady Isabel!" She turned to hide her face and its misery away from him, and a low wail of anguish broke from her, telling its own tale of despair.
The gray dawn of morning was breaking over the world, advent of another bustling day in life's history; but the spirit of William Vane, Earl of Mount Severn, had soared away from it forever..