“That argument is rather in my favor than otherwise, Gwendolyn. If my wife had disappeared suddenly you would have seen something about it in the newspapers, according to your own showing, and there would have been every effort made to discover her whereabouts, or the manner of her death, if she were dead. Besides, it is only natural to suppose that in the early days I should have taken my wife to Borton, and introduced her to my neighbors. You do not marry a woman on purpose to shut her up; that would be an afterthought.” “You could have gone abroad, and from there announced her death.” “Possibly; but you may depend it is better to have a skeleton in your cupboard, rather than a living creature. One tells no tales, and the other might get one into some very unpleasant scrapes. Come, Gwen, do not be so unbelieving. I swear by all that is most sacred I have no wife. Even if I had wished to conceal this fact from the world in general I should certainly have confided in your brother, and you may be sure he would not have allowed me to visit at his house under false pretenses.” “But, of course, you would not have confided in him if you had wished to keep your marriage a secret.” “Gwendolyn,” he said passionately, “you will wear me out. If you would only trust me as I trust you. I love you so dearly, my sweetest.” The strong arms enfolded her lovingly, the tawny mustache swept her cheek. For one brief moment she yielded to his caress, her lips thrilling under his, then she wrenched herself away from him, and fled. CHAPTER X. A FACE AT THE WINDOW. Colonel Dacre waited for half an hour, hoping Lady Gwendolyn would return; but when the time passed, and there was still no sign of her, he concluded that she did not want to see him again that morning, and went back to his hotel. All day long he expected that she would send him a little note, telling him when he might call again; but his patience was not rewarded. The hours dragged wearily, but they passed, bringing the cool, sweet eventide, when the tired flowers went to sleep under their sheltering leaves, and even the busy bees were abed. “She will send or come now,” he said to himself, believing that the lady of his love had too much independence of spirit to regard conventionalities; he sat at the open window, waiting still, and still in vain. When the clock struck eight he decided that she intended him to seek her, and went over to the Grange. Old Hannah answered his impatient knock, and, in reply to his question, said, quietly, that Lady Gwendolyn was gone. “Gone!” echoed Colonel Dacre. “I am sure she could not have left without my seeing her.” “I don’t know whether you saw her or not, sir,” continued the woman, with perfect civility. “But she really is gone.” “She did not leave any letter for me, then?” “Not as I know, sir; but perhaps you would like to step into the drawing-room and see?” Colonel Dacre accepted this offer eagerly.