The only wrong was to David, whose grandfather had been even more to blame than his own father.

She had looked to help Eglington in this moment, and now there seemed nothing for her to do.

He was superior to the situation, though it was apparent in his pale face and rigid manner that he had been struck hard.
She came near to him, but there was no encouragement to her to play that part which is a woman's deepest right and joy and pain in one--to comfort her man in trouble, sorrow, or evil.

Always, always, he stood alone, whatever the moment might be, leaving her nothing to do--"playing his own game with his own weapons," as he had once put it.

Yet there was strength in it too, and this came to her mind now, as though in excuse for whatever else there was in the situation which, against her will, repelled her.
"I am so sorry for you," she said at last.
"What do you mean ?" he asked.
"To lose all that has been yours so long." This was their great moment.