He did not say where he was going; indeed those who helped him said afterward that his face was fixed and pale, and that he moved about like one in a dream.
Everything was arranged for Ronald's departure by the night mail from Greenfield, the nearest station to Earlescourt.

He took with him neither horses nor servants; even his valet, Morton, was left behind.
"My lady" was ill, and shut up in her room all day.
Valentine Charteris sat alone in the drawing room when Ronald came in to bid her farewell.

She was amazed at the unhappy termination of the interview.

She would have gone instantly to Lord Earle, but Ronald told her it was useless--no prayers, no pleadings could change his determination.
As Ronald stood here, looking into Valentine's beautiful face, he remembered his mother's words, that she cared for him as she cared for no other.

Could it be possible that this magnificent girl, with her serene, queenly dignity, loved him?
She looked distressed by his sorrow.