“I? Why, really, Gwen, you must be mad!” And Lady Teignmouth looked at her anxiously. “How could I possibly have had anything to do with it?” “He was in your way,” said Lady Gwendolyn, so much impressed by the other’s manner, that she actually began to believe in her innocence. “Not at all. I never allow any one to be in my way. If he and I had both lived to be a hundred years old, I should not have spoken to him again.” “But he might have spoken to you.” “I don’t think he would, for, with all his faults, he was a gentleman. You may depend upon it,” she added argumentatively, “that he died of heart-disease. Those strong-looking men often have some secret malady that carries them off suddenly.” “But I told you that he said he had been poisoned--and a dying man does not lie.” “Really, I hardly know how to believe it.” And Lady Teignmouth looked her companion steadily in the eyes. There was a minute’s silence, and then she added quietly: “Do you think that Colonel Dacre killed him?” “What motive could he have for even wishing him dead?” inquired Lady Gwendolyn, flushing. “According to your own showing he took him for a rival.” “I never said that.” “Well, he fancied it was you who had met him in the wood; and that would naturally anger him, since he loves you himself.” “Has he told you so, pray?” “Not in so many words; but I have been aware of the fact for over a year now.” “And, therefore, you gave him my address at Turoy?” Lady Teignmouth colored. “Why not?” she asked evasively. “Colonel Dacre would be an excellent match. He is heir presumptive to a baronetcy; and has now a fine place and ten thousand a year. You might go farther and fare worse.” “Still, there might have been drawbacks of which you knew nothing. Even if I had been engaged to Mr. Belmont, Colonel Dacre would have had no right to resent it.” “You had refused him, then?” inquired the other curiously. “Certainly not; he had never asked me.” “Then it was your own fault.” Lady Gwendolyn was silent. Lady Teignmouth was the last person in the world of whom she would have made a confidante. Pauline peered into her face for a minute as if she would read her thoughts. But finding no enlightenment in the impassible face before her, she added: “Anyhow, you will never persuade me that you might not have married Colonel Dacre had you chosen. Upon one point I claim to be infallible--I always know when a man is in love.” “Do you, indeed? You must have studied the subject very carefully,” replied her sister-in-law. “I don’t see how one is to help it, if one is tolerably good-looking. Men are so troublesome, you know.” “Do you think so? I never knew one yet who would not take a ‘No.’” “Really!” And the countess smiled deceitfully. “I suppose I wasn’t sufficiently firm; for no man ever took my ‘No.’ I refused Reggie four times.”