Lord Teignmouth had forfeited all claim to be consulted, and, though Gwendolyn hesitated and argued now, he had a notion she would not have been sorry to have had the decision taken out of her hands. “Gwendolyn is just the kind of woman to admire a man who conquers her,” Colonel Dacre said to himself. “But the least hesitation or weakness of purpose would spoil all. She must see in me only the master who commands--not the lover who pleads--or she will writhe out of my grasp, somehow, even at the altar rails. Oh! if I had only been wiser, and more understanding, how happy I might be now!” He determined to show Lady Gwendolyn that he had some fertility of resource, and as strong a will as her own, the next time they met; and with this view he went off to Doctors’ Commons, and bought a special license. Then, all things being fair in love and war, and the position being very hopeless under its present aspect, he descended to a ruse, which, under ordinary circumstances, would have been unpardonable. He put an advertisement in several of the daily papers, so worded that only Gwendolyn could understand it, and stating himself to be in such a condition, both mentally and physically, that if, knowing all, she did not come to him at once, his death would be on her conscience. And then he waited. “You will find me at the hotel where we parted yesterday,” he had said; and, therefore, we may be sure he did not quit his rooms for a second. He sent for newspapers and books; but he was far too restless to read. With his face glued to the window-pane, he watched eagerly every carriage that drew up to the entrance. He had suffered breakfast and luncheon to go away untasted; but when dinner was placed on the table, he felt so strange that it occurred to him he must be suffering from inanition, and he poured himself out a glass of sherry, and emptied it at a draft. It felt like liquid fire, and stung his throat; but the effect was magical. His sluggish pulses quickened, the blood in his veins seemed to dance vivaciously to the air of the delicious waltz he had last danced with Lady Gwendolyn. The air was so full of her sweet presence he persuaded himself she must be coming, and began to eat eagerly. He would need all his strength to-night, and could not afford to waste a single chance. But his appetite was not as large as his aspirations. He got half-way through his soup valiantly enough, then a sudden feeling of nausea came over him, and he pushed away his plate, and rose from the table, resuming his former place at the window. It was growing dark now, but he could still distinguish the passers-by; and when a lady alighted presently from a cab at the door, his heart gave a great bound and thrill.