“You quite misunderstand me, I assure you. I think love a terrible thing, and pity those who fall into it, with all my heart.” “While taking warning by their example,” insinuated Lady Teignmouth, smiling. A quick flush passed over the colonel’s face. The significance of her manner made him tremble for his secret, which he feared was in very unsafe keeping. He hastened to deny the “soft impeachment” in self-defense. “Exactly. As a mere looker-on I can judge the question dispassionately, which would not be the case, supposing my feelings were implicated.” This time her ladyship laughed outright. She evidently thought his logic rather defective. Then, becoming suddenly grave, she said: “If love is a terrible thing under ordinary circumstances, what must it be under extraordinary circumstances?” “What do you mean by extraordinary circumstances?” “Well, if you cared for a coquette--we will say?” “I hope I never should, Lady Teignmouth.” “I hope not, too, for your own sake. And, unfortunately, I have seen so many poor moths consumed in a certain flame that I tremble now for every one that approaches. The only chance, so far as my experience goes, is to keep out of the way.” “On the principle that ‘prevention is better than cure,’” he answered lightly. “I agree with your ladyship there, up to a certain point; still, if one were always on the lookout for painful possibilities, life would not be worth living, would it?” The countess yawned demonstratively. “Is it now, do you think?” “Yes,” he answered, with decision. “I find it so.” “You really surprise me;” and she leaned back on her couch with an air of extreme languor. “Do you know, Colonel Dacre, I often wonder what some people are made of--nothing seems to trouble them.” “Possibly those are just the people who feel things the most. Real suffering is generally quiet.” She turned on him abruptly. “Is that why you are so quiet now?” “I cannot think why your ladyship will persist in attributing to me a secret sorrow or passion,” he retorted. “Do I look very Byronic?” “No,” she answered readily; “but you see I have got quite into the way of looking upon every man I have seen with Gwen as one of her victims, and you have been very often with her of late.” “So have half a dozen others. I suppose they were my companions in misfortune?” “Don’t jest upon such a serious subject,” she said, with her malicious smile. “Anyhow,” he observed, rising, “however hard hit I may be, I shall know it is not of any use appealing to your ladyship for sympathy--Lady Gwendolyn’s ‘victims’ seem to make excellent sport for you?”