“If you had questioned me then, I should have told you all; but as you did not do so, I was glad to leave well alone.” “You wouldn’t have liked me to have any secret from you, Lawrence.” “No, my love, that is true; at the same time, you must remember that you might have had half a dozen mad relatives, and I should not have known. The fact is”--and his voice changed--“I was terribly sensitive about it, Gwen. I was so afraid you would make a trouble of it, and fancy insanity was hereditary in the Dacre family. My uncle’s eccentricity would have confirmed the impression, and the very idea of a possible fate of this kind for your unborn child would almost have worried you into your grave.” “I am afraid it would,” she admitted. “But let us talk of something more cheerful now, Gwen. Who do you think is coming to see you to-morrow?” “Not Mrs. O’Hara?” said Lady Gwendolyn, looking alarmed. “A very bad guess. Try again.” “Pauline?” “Heaven forbid! Will you give it up?” “Is it Beatrice Ponsonby?” “No again.” “Tell me, then.” “Your brother, Reginald.” Lady Gwendolyn changed color. “Is it worth while?” she asked coldly. “Pauline is sure to take care that we do not keep friends long, in case we should compare notes.” “You may compare notes as long as you like; you cannot hurt Pauline more than she has hurt herself.” And Sir Lawrence told his wife the miserable, guilty story, knowing quite well that the very idea of Reginald’s being in trouble would make his generous, impulsive little wife forget her own wrongs in a moment. And so it was. “Oh! poor Reggie, how very shameful and wicked! How could she?--how could she?” was all Lady Gwendolyn could say. “She promised me so faithfully she would be a good wife for the future, if I would not tell my brother the truth.” “And perhaps she meant it all the time, Gwen; but she had got into the habit of these intrigues, and could not live without the excitement. If she had had children she might have been a better woman; but she did not care for Lord Teignmouth from the first, and then he did leave her too much liberty.” “I told him so once, but he said that a wife who needed watching was not worth keeping. Then she always pretended to be such a prude.” “She hadn’t that character in the world, I assure you.” “But Reginald would be the last to hear of that; and if he had, she would have persuaded him that the women were jealous of her, and so tried to injure her with him. An artful woman can so easily manage her husband.” “Indeed!” said Sir Lawrence, laughing; “that is a bad lookout for me.” “I am not artful, sir! How dare you speak in that way to baby’s mama?” “I see baby’s mama is a very important person. I only hope that baby’s papa is not going to be put entirely aside on his account. I begin to fear lest I have a very influential rival near the throne. If the boy is to divide us, instead of drawing us closer together, I shall wish he had never been born.”