“Ask Percy,” she returned dryly. “You know they used to say in the regiment that Norah O’Hara liked a piece of fun as well as anybody; but she’d make you remember it if you went an inch too far. And, to do them justice, our boys were all gentlemen.” “Nevertheless, you weren’t always wise, Norah. I used to wonder often that Jack stood it.” “We understood each other so well,” she answered, her eyes clouding again. “I can honestly declare that I never had even a thought that wasn’t true to him from the first to the last day of our married life.” There was a minute’s silence, and then she added tearfully: “I wish you would tell me how it really happened, Lawrence. Lady Lenox was so very ambiguous and mysterious, and though she means to save me pain, I dare say, I always prefer to know the truth. She hinted something about Lady Gwendolyn St. Maur, and another gentleman being jealous of poor George; but I could not make anything of her story, and she would not explain.” “Look here, Norah,” he answered, with grave impressiveness. “Your brother is dead, and nothing can call him back now. Take my advice, and do not seek to know anything more, since it would only add to your distress.” “Not if I could avenge him?” “That would be a terrible task for a woman.” “Not at all. I should like it. Indeed, if I could find out that my brother had met with foul play, I would hunt his murderer down, even if he were the best friend I had ever had.” “The game is not worth the candle, Norah.” “I think so, at any rate, and am going to Preston on purpose to consult a very clever lawyer there, whom Lady Lenox recommended to me. Poor George left me all he had, so that I shall be able to pursue the matter, if Mr. Barnard advises me to do so.” “And supposing you were to help destroy an innocent person?” “No fear of that. I am not quite a stupid, Lawrence. And to show you I am not, I may just say that I don’t believe Lady Gwendolyn St. Maur had anything whatever to do with my poor brother’s death.” Colonel Dacre could hardly restrain himself from seizing her hand, and covering it with kisses, by way of showing his gratitude for this speech. “I don’t fancy he even knew her,” pursued Mrs. O’Hara decidedly. “But listen to me, Lawrence, beware always of a cold-blooded coquette. You have been lecturing me for my bad behavior, but I can assure you that I am as harmless as a dove in comparison with a woman like that. A cold-blooded coquette only cares for herself, and after having encouraged a man for her amusement, dismisses him with a sneer the moment his passion becomes dangerous, inconvenient, or stands in the way of a new conquest. Whereas, I am such a poor, foolish thing, that I always grow quite fond of a man who has been spooning me a week or two, and cry when I bid him good-by.”