Somehow, Colonel Dacre was not nearly so surprised as might have been expected, when the sudden light displayed the stately head and beautiful features of Lady Gwendolyn St. Maur. But he was surprised when Mrs. O’Hara, waiting for the door to close upon the waiter, advanced to the table, and said, in a tone of passionate repulsion: “So it is you, my lady? I wonder you care to be here, although I do not wonder at your sheltering yourself behind an honest name. You have said many spiteful things of me in my time; but it has never been possible to say of me, with truth, that I destroyed a poor soul who loved me only too well.” “I don’t understand you,” returned Lady Gwendolyn, with all the hauteur of her race. “No? Then I will endeavor to make myself intelligible. I have just returned from Turoy.” Lady Gwendolyn was all attention, but not by a movement of the eyelids even did she show interest or apprehension. “I went there in the company of my solicitor and of a clever detective, whom he always employs when he has any difficult business on hand. The result was to leave us without the least moral doubt that my unfortunate brother came to his death through you.” A sudden flash brightened Lady Gwendolyn’s eyes, but she answered quietly: “Pray go on. I suppose you are prepared to prove what you have just stated?” “Not yet,” Mrs. O’Hara admitted; “but we are fast collecting evidence.” “Isn’t it a pity to warn me?” inquired Lady Gwendolyn, with quiet scorn. “By the time you have collected your evidence I may have made my escape, you know, since ‘forewarned is forearmed.’” Mrs. O’Hara looked startled. She had never thought of that. Lady Gwendolyn smiled to herself as she walked up to the mantelpiece and rang the bell. The waiter came hurrying back, and began, directly he entered the room: “There are two Mrs. O’Hara’s, ma’am. I thought there must be. The other lady’s rooms are twenty-seven and twenty-eight.” “Then pray show her there,” interrupted Lady Gwendolyn, turning her back coolly upon the above-mentioned lady. As to Colonel Dacre, she had never once vouchsafed him so much as a glance. It was sufficient for her that he had come to the “Langham” to meet Mrs. O’Hara, and sanctioned the other’s accusations by his silence. When the room was, as she believed, clear, she flung herself into the nearest chair, with the passionate, indignant air of a woman who feels that she has been insulted as well as injured. She had no idea Colonel Dacre had remained in the room until he touched her arm, half-deprecatingly, and said: “Gwendolyn, I want to speak to you.” She turned upon him almost fiercely then. “You can have nothing to say that I should care to listen to, Colonel Dacre. You came here to meet Mrs. O’Hara, and therefore I should be extremely sorry to keep you from her.”