Colonel Dacre thought it very wrong to swear, and always denied himself this relief upon principle; but this morning, when he opened his eyes full upon the clock, which had a jeering, jaunty way of pointing at nine, he certainly did feel as if an occasional indulgence this time must be a pardonable offense. He sprang out of bed, and rang at once for the waiter. He was about to put some questions to him, when the man handed him a couple of letters, saying: “I was told to give you them directly you woke, sir. Is there anything you want, sir?” “Only have my breakfast ready in half an hour,” answered Colonel Dacre, with assumed indifference; and the moment the man had closed the door, he tore open the letter that lay uppermost in his hand. It was from Lady Gwendolyn, and ran thus: “DEAR COLONEL DACRE: _La nuit porte conseil_, you say, and the result is that I think it far better we should not meet. Pardon me if I have given you pain by this decision. One of these days you will thank me for having had the courage to deny you. I must mean to do what is right, for I cannot help telling you that this is the greatest sorrow of my life. “GWENDOLYN ST. MAUR.” The second was from Mrs. O’Hara, and was quite as expressive in its way. “DEAR LAWRENCE: I see that you take Lady Gwendolyn’s part: her false, fatal beauty has glamoured you, poor soul! I must needs forgive you, for the sake of old times; but I should only worry you with my friendship, now that you have learned what it is to love, so that I may as well get out of your way quietly. If you ever want to see me again, I dare say you will be able to find me; but, in any case, I have too deep and affectionate a recollection of ‘auld lang syne’ to subscribe myself anything but Your sincere friend, “NORAH O’HARA.” “I have lost my friend and sweetheart both, by lying too late,” said Colonel Dacre to himself, with a dreary sigh; for he was not dolt enough even to inquire if the two ladies were still at the “Langham.” Colonel Dacre smashed the clock before he went down to breakfast, and only smiled grimly when he saw that five pounds was charged for the damage in his bill. On second thoughts, he stayed where he was that day because it was no use going anywhere else. He was utterly discouraged now. The strength of Lady Gwendolyn’s will frightened him. He had fancied that all women were weak and yielding, and here was one who made a resolution, and kept it, as he believed, for duty’s sake, although her heart was pulling her the opposite way. It was quite a revelation, and somehow made him respect all women more for her sake. He wished now he had held her fast when she was in his power, and made her marry him right off.