Colonel Dacre had not said exactly this, but he let it pass, and observed, after a pause: “Then you cannot give me any idea where Lady Gwendolyn is to be found?” “Not the faintest. But she may write in a day or two, and then I will let you know, if you like.” “Thank you very much,” he said; and then he added, with assumed carelessness: “She was quite well, I hope, when she went away?” “Perfectly,” answered Lady Teignmouth, opening her eyes very wide, as if she were surprised at the question. “She did not complain of her foot at all?” “Why should she?” “Oh! I thought she might possibly have sprained her ankle,” he said evasively. “She walked so much more here than she is accustomed to do.” “She pleased herself; there was a carriage always at her disposal. You ought to know, Colonel Dacre, that my husband is absurdly weak, so far as Gwen is concerned, and would try to get her a slice of the moon if she wanted one.” “It is a very amiable weakness,” said the colonel, smiling. “But not always a convenient one for his wife.” Colonel Dacre began to understand the countess better now. She was jealous of her beautiful sister-in-law. She never made the faintest effort to retain her husband’s affection; still she did not want him to care for anybody else, and was never so near losing her temper as when anything reminded her of the good understanding that existed between the brother and sister. Then, again, although a pretty woman, the countess was quite eclipsed by Lady Gwendolyn, which was another reason why she should not regard her with much favor. However, she did not care for an outsider to know exactly the terms they were on, for she added, in an indulgent tone: “I dare say it is very natural, after all. There are only two of them left now, and their mother left Gwen in Reginald’s charge, so that he looks upon her as a sacred legacy. Only, of course, she is but young, and it would be better if he looked after her a little more, would it not?” “Perhaps it would,” he admitted. “But it is just possible Lady Gwendolyn would not submit to be dictated to.” “In that case she ought to marry, and take the responsibility off our shoulders, Colonel Dacre,” replied the countess, with more decision than she usually infused into her company manner. “I am sure you would hardly believe how worried I was by her numerous flirtations last season.” “I should have fancied there was safety in numbers,” remarked her listener dryly. “For her, perhaps; but I am afraid it only made it more dangerous for them. If this were a dueling age, Gwen would have a good many on her conscience, I fancy.” “But, you see, men do not always care to risk their lives for a woman whom they know is trifling with them,” said Colonel Dacre slowly. “Well, you speak very philosophically of love, as if it were a light feeling that helped you through a few idle hours, but was not likely to take any deeper hold.”