“Fetch them quickly,” answered Sir Lawrence, who thought he should find something to explain his wife’s sudden caprice; and he scarcely breathed until the man came back, bringing with him all the letters Sir Lawrence had written to his wife, and one in Lady Gwendolyn’s handwriting addressed to him. He waited until the garçon had retired, and then he tore open this last with an eager, tremulous hand. A letter full of reproaches and accusations would not have moved him so much as this cruel silence, this cold abandonment. It is true that the telegram was a full explanation, and quite accounted for his wife’s sudden departure, but he had not expected such dignified self-control in an impulsive girl like Lady Gwendolyn. He forgot that she had received one of those terrible blows that alter a woman’s entire nature, and, therefore, it was useless to seek any precedent for her present course of conduct. At first he could hardly realize the full significance of all that had happened. It seemed so impossible that his wife had really left him, and yet, the cruel contrast between his hopes and the chill reality destroyed the last remnant of his self-control. He buried his face in his hands, and the tears rained from his burning eyes. His whole life was wrapped up in this woman who had deserted him; and the child that was coming to her was his. Recovering himself a little, he sat down to ponder as to the best course to be pursued. He knew it was no use advertising, because Lady Gwendolyn had often told him that this would be an unnecessary exposure so far as she was concerned, as she never read a newspaper. How, then, could he get at her? Suddenly, as if by inspiration, it occurred to him that his wife must have taken her solicitor into her confidence, as he received her rents, and would have to keep her supplied with money. He did not know Mr. Large’s address, but he felt sure that his own man of business would, as he had had to communicate with the other at the time of Lady Gwendolyn’s marriage. Therefore, Sir Lawrence made up his mind to return at once to London; and, as he lost no time, he found himself back again that night--too late, however, to call upon Mr. Browne. He passed a miserable night, and was only too thankful when it was time to start for Mr. Browne’s office with a reasonable hope of finding him there. Mr. Browne looked very much surprised when he heard Sir Lawrence’s errand. “Surely her ladyship has not forgotten,” he said. “She must often have occasion to communicate with him.” “Yes, but it is I who want to communicate with Mr. Large,” responded his client; “and Lady Gwendolyn is not with me.”