“Where are you going now?” inquired the earl presently. “I want to have a little confidential talk with you, and should prefer to get out of the streets.” “I am going to my lodgings,” replied Sir Lawrence; “but I have not much time to spare, as I leave for the country this evening.” “Is Gwen here with you? I have been making inquiries in every direction, and couldn’t hear anything about either of you; so I imagined you were still abroad.” Sir Lawrence colored, and said evasively: “We were abroad for some time, but my wife is at the seaside at present with our boy. I hope we shall be settling down now. I begin to long after home.” “I never heard anything about your boy’s birth,” said Lord Teignmouth, in a surprised tone; “and when you consider that he is heir to two estates, and an earldom into the bargain, it would have been natural to herald his birth with a flourish of trumpets.” “How do you mean heir to an earldom?” said Sir Lawrence. “I’ll tell you when we get inside,” replied Lord Teignmouth grimly; and he did not speak again until they were alone at Sir Lawrence’s rooms, and the other had assured him there was no fear of interruption. Then he said coolly and abruptly: “Pauline has run away from me.” “Good heavens!” exclaimed the young baronet. “Why?” “Because she liked somebody else better, I suppose,” continued Lord Teignmouth, with assumed carelessness. “There is no answering for a woman’s fancies. Her accursed vanity makes her such an easy prey that you may always be sure she will run away from you sooner or later if any one takes the trouble to tempt her.” “She would find it a perilous pastime if she belonged to me,” returned Sir Lawrence, with gleaming eyes, “unless she ran away alone.” The earl shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “It is much better to be philosophical. Besides, Pauline has been deceiving me for years, and I feel as if I am well rid of such a woman on any terms.” “How did it happen?” “In this wise. Pauline went to the Newburg masked ball, and I went to bed. The next morning about noon I had occasion to speak to my lady about a large dressmaker’s bill that had just come in, and went to look for her up-stairs. To my surprise I found that she had not been home at all that night. Of course I rang for her maid, and asked if she knew where her mistress was; but Julie was evidently as ignorant of her whereabouts as I was. She fancied that my lady was ill, as she did not return, she said; but when we came to look about us we found that she had taken her jewel-case with her, which gave her absence rather a suspicious air.” “And there was no letter?”