“Nonsense!” exclaimed Gwendolyn indignantly. “My brother was not the kind of man to repeat an offer, if it had been once refused. However,” she added, cooling down suddenly, “I did not come to discuss such questions with you. Mr. Belmont has not died a natural death, I am afraid; and at the inquest everything must come out. Forewarned is forearmed, and you can do as you think proper now.” “And I think proper to stay quietly where I am,” returned Pauline coolly. “No one can do me any harm, excepting you; and though I am quite aware that you would not spare me for my own sake, I hardly think you will try to break your brother’s heart. With all my faults, he is foolish enough to care for me a little still; but he cares for his honor still more; and if the least shadow were cast upon that, the consequences would be terrible.” “And do you suppose nobody witnessed your meetings with Mr. Belmont?” “I naturally took care about that.” “In fact, you made use of the Grange, and of my servants, in order to cover your faults, counting upon the very mistake that Colonel Dacre made.” “Exactly. Why not? Nothing of this sort could harm you, as you were not a married woman; and, so far as your servants were concerned, I merely told them that you would arrive home so tired you would not care to see any one; and they immediately inferred from this that your visitor was in some way objectionable. I told Hannah to say ‘Not at home,’ which would have simplified the matter, and saved a good deal of breath; but she assured me neither she nor her husband would tell a lie, and they should know what to say quite well if I left them alone.” “But I was not in the house, surely, when Colonel Dacre called?” “The first time----” “Then he came twice?” interrupted her sister-in-law. “Or even three times; he was so very determined to see you, and so fully persuaded that you were deceiving him.” Lady Gwendolyn lowered her head thoughtfully. All these complications harassed her. She began to wonder if Colonel Dacre had carried his determined spirit so far as to rid himself of a supposed rival. And yet his horror and indignation when he accused her had seemed so natural she hardly knew how to distrust him. Anyhow, better it should be him than Pauline--since Pauline’s destinies were bound up in those of her brother--and she loved Reggie so dearly. She looked up presently and said: “I am sorry I did not see him, it might have been better for us all. But it is no use talking of ‘might have beens!’--my chief concern is the present. I wish you would leave Bridgton, Pauline. You know perfectly well that if you are identified as the lady Mr. Belmont met in the wood, Reggie will never forgive you.”