“Nonsense,” she said decidedly. “There’s no comfort like talking over one’s troubles to a friend. I declare, when I got into the train this evening, I felt as if my heart were breaking, and now everything seems more bearable. I must tell you that I had a hint a little while ago that you were fond of Lady Gwendolyn, and what I have seen to-night confirms it, so you may as well tell me the truth.” “Well,” he said, at last, diffidently but proudly, “I do love Gwendolyn St. Maur with all my heart.” “Then I hope you may win her, if she is worthy of you,” said Mrs. O’Hara, with a cordial smile. “I know she does not like me, and thinks me a very dangerous woman; but then I am the _bête noir_ of all Lady Maur’s friends.” “Then do try and be more prudent for the future, Norah. You know people always argue that there is no smoke without fire.” “People aren’t always to be trusted, Colonel Dacre,” she said, with affected formality. “One has heard of reports that were entirely false.” “In that case, you almost invariably find that it had its origin in some imprudence.” “Oh!” she answered loftily, “you may put me down for hundreds of those. I never could, would, or should be prudent; it is not in my nature.” “Then can’t you change your nature, Norah?” “No; I hate being perfect, and I can’t bear being bored; and if you lecture me any more, Lawrence, I’ll say something spiteful about Lady Gwendolyn: that she paints her cheeks--you know she has a lovely bloom--or dyes her hair--nobody believes in hair nowadays--or anything disagreeable I can think of at the moment; for I want comforting, not scolding, to-night--I do, indeed; and what is the use of a friend if he fails you in your need?” “My dear Norah, I can assure you I meant to be sympathetic.” “You ought to be,” she answered, with a dry sob. “I should feel for you if you had lost the only person in the world who really cared for you.” “You are not quite so unfortunate as that, Norah. You know I have a sincere affection for you, for poor Jack’s sake, and your own as well. The best proof of that is my candor; for if I did not look upon you as a friend, I should not dare to give you good advice.” “Never mind,” she said, holding out to him the hand with which she had just dashed away her tears. “I couldn’t be angry with you, if I would, for the sake of old times. I hope you will be happy, Lawrence, with all my heart, though your marriage with Lady Gwendolyn will rob me of a friend.” She stepped into the cab, and, as he waved a last greeting, he little thought how and when they should meet again. The next six days were passed he hardly knew how. He wandered from station to station on the Great Northern line trying to obtain some trace of Lady Gwendolyn; but without the least success. On the whole, he might as well have looked for a needle in a haystack; but the constant movement did him good, and kept him from absolute despair.