It was a very tender epistle, and the love that was in his heart breathed out of every line. He told her how much he had missed her, and how tame his life seemed without her, concluding with the playful declaration that, whatever happened, they would never be parted again, for those whom Heaven had joined business should not put asunder even for a day. Meanwhile, Lady Gwendolyn had made her way to a suite of rooms in the next wing. From her husband’s embarrassed manner when she questioned him about these she fancied she should find the key to the mystery of his life there, and her heart trembled within her. A faint line of light under one of the doors showed that the rooms were occupied; and, stooping down, she tried to reconnoiter through the keyhole. At first she could see nothing, but as her eyes became accustomed to the narrow tube through which all investigations had to be made, she perceived a female figure seated by the fire. The hands were pendent over the arms of the chair--the whole attitude betokened dejection--although from the hair and figure of this woman she was evidently young. Her face was turned from the door, and Lady Gwendolyn longed to obtain a glimpse of it, for she felt almost sure that it belonged to the person whom she had seen at Borton Hall shortly before her marriage, and who had declared herself to be Lawrence Dacre’s wife. She must have knelt there half an hour, and still the woman did not turn her head. She was growing so sick and giddy at last that she was obliged to withdraw from her post of observation and rest. When she looked again the large, pale, lack-luster eyes were turned toward the door, and Lady Gwendolyn recognized her at once. She had almost decided to go in, confront her, and insist upon a full explanation, when she heard a step she knew only too well mounting the stairs, and from a sudden instinct stepped back, and concealed herself behind the heavy curtains of a window behind. She had scarcely drawn the folds about her, before her husband appeared, holding a lamp in his hand, which he set down on a little table, so close to the curtain behind which she was hidden that she trembled in her shoes. He took a large key out of his pocket, and turned it twice in the lock. But it was evident that even with this he did not feel that his prisoner was safe, for he had to undraw two bolts before he could gain admittance. Then he took the lamp and walked in, closing the door after him. Lady Gwendolyn’s knees shook under her, and she had a feeling at the moment as if she would rather not know the truth. But she conquered this weakness, and knelt down at the keyhole again, just in time to see Sir Lawrence bend over the woman and kiss her tenderly. Then he drew a chair to her side, and Lady Gwendolyn heard him say, in a coaxing voice: