You are too young to know what has come upon you--both." She did not speak.
"You were both too young--and you were driven by fate.

If he had been more than a boy--and if he had not been in a frenzy--he would have remembered.

He would have thought--" Yes--yes! She knew how young! But oh, what mattered youth--or thought--or remembering! Her small hand beat in soft impatience on the ground.
He was--strangely--on one knee beside her, his head bent close, and in his voice there was a new strong insistence--as if he would not let her alone-- Oh! Donal! Donal! "He would have remembered--that he might leave a child!" His voice was almost hard.

She did not know that in his mind was a memory which now in secret broke him--a memory of a belief which was a thing he had held as a gift--a certain faith in a clear young highness and strength of body and soul in this one scion of his house, which even in youth's madness would have _remembered_.

If the lad had been his own son he might have felt something of the same pang.
His words brought back what she had heard Redcliff say to her earlier in the day--the thing which had only struck her again to the earth.
"It--will have--no father," she shuddered.