"Ah! to be sure; what will the count say? And, judging from some
things I've heard, I should say he is violently in love with
her."
"Count who?" asked Rochester. "Or has he, like his ladylove, no
other name?"
"Oh, no! The name of the gentleman who was so nearly blessed for
life, and missed it, is Count L'Estrange!"
The earl had been lying listlessly back, only half intent upon
his answer, as he watched the fire; but now he sprang sharply up,
and stared Ormiston full in the face.
"Count what did you say?" was his eager question, while his eyes,
more eager than his voice, strove to read the reply before it was
repeated.
"Count L'Estrange. You know him, my lord?" said Ormiston,
quietly.
"Ah!" said the earl. And then such a strange meaning smile went
wandering about his face. "I have not said that! So his name is
Count L'Estrange? Well, I don't wonder now at the girl's
beauty."
The earl sank back to his former nonchalant position and fell for
a moment or two into deep musing; and then, as if the whole thing
struck him in a new and ludicrous light, he broke out into an
immoderate fit of laughter. Ormiston looked at him curiously.
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