“Everything is packed,” replied his wife. “I felt sure you would take me away, and so I made my preparations accordingly. And, do you know, if we miss the eight-o’clock train it will be impossible for us to get away to-night?” “Then we will stay at an inn, Pauline. I am determined you shall not be exposed to any unpleasant remarks at Lady Lenox’s. Moreover, I want to get to the other side of the Channel as quickly as possible, and hide my diminished head.” “Look here, Reggie, dear,” she said, as if the idea had only just occurred to her; “supposing you write to Gwendolyn.” “I would rather tell her my mind.” “Nonsense!” she answered coaxingly; “it would be so much better to do as I say. You are both quick-tempered, and will make a scene between you, and, surely, there will be nothing gained by that. Come, Reggie, do listen to reason. It would distress you, I am sure, to accuse Gwendolyn to her face, and yet, of course, she must know the truth. Write her a decided letter, and as you will be leaving England at once, she will not be able to answer it, and then you will be spared all annoyance.” “I would rather see her,” persisted Lord Teignmouth. “What could you say to her if you did? She is perfectly independent, and has a right to meet twenty men in Turoy wood, if she likes.” “And kill them afterward, I suppose?” “Oh! do hush, Reggie; it is dreadfully imprudent to talk in this way out of doors, where you might be overheard.” “What does that matter? Do you suppose we shall be able to hide our troubles from the world?” “Impossible, of course; but it is no use precipitating matters. We shall have a few hours’ start of scandal if we keep quiet, and I do want to be the other side of the Channel when the morning papers begin to circulate.” “It will be of no use, Pauline,” he answered, more gently than he had yet spoken to her. “Wherever we go they will follow and dodge us, and we shall be sure to meet heaps of people who will think it kind to condole with us. I am afraid I shall behave like a bear if they do.” “Then let us return to Teignmouth, dear.” “It would be still worse there. We should have to receive our neighbors as usual if they called, and they all know Gwendolyn so well.” “Only that friends would naturally be more considerate than mere acquaintances.” “Surely, you would rather go abroad, Pauline,” he said, looking at her with some surprise. “Infinitely, Reggie; but I wished to do what would comfort you most. Only that I want you, as a special favor, to promise that you will make no effort to see Gwendolyn.” “Why?” “Because you are both proud and passionate, and may speak words in the heat of argument that will make it impossible you should ever be friends again; and I do not see why you should not forgive Gwendolyn later, supposing she made a decent marriage, and showed by her conduct that she really regretted the past.”