“I don’t think the two women can be compared in any way. Norah is a thoughtless flirt--Lady Teignmouth is a cold-blooded coquette.” “Isn’t that a distinction without a difference, Lawrence?” “I should be sorry to think so, Gwen, since a certain young lady, who is beyond measure dear to my heart, was certainly a thoughtless flirt in days not very long gone by.” “I didn’t mean any harm,” said Gwendolyn, coloring. “Exactly; nor did Nora. But Lady Teignmouth means a good deal of harm. She has the most insatiable vanity of any woman I ever knew, and would quite have enjoyed that affair at Turoy as a tribute to her charms, if only it could have been proved that Mr. Belmont committed suicide in despair.” “Oh! then, you are convinced at last that Mr. Belmont was Lady Teignmouth’s lover, and not mine.” “Perfectly; for ‘putting that an’ that thegither,’ as the Scotch say, I see the whole case clear before me. Lady Teignmouth meant to make a fool of me--not because I was particularly desirable, but because she looked upon all men as her legitimate prey. When she found that you had saved her the trouble she felt very spiteful, and longed to make a breach between us. I am convinced now that the person I saw at Preston Station was Lady Teignmouth, although she did get into a third-class carriage, and assumed a regular Northern burr on purpose to divert my suspicions. She kept me to luncheon after she had given me your address, because she did not want me to reach Turoy until she was ready to receive me.” “But I should have fancied you would have been in her way there.” “No; because she wanted to kill two birds with one stone--get rid of a lover whose ardor was growing troublesome and compromising, and disenchant me. I must say that she is a consummate actress, and managed things very cleverly.” “Too cleverly, I think,” answered Lady Gwendolyn. “But you will admit, dearest, that if you go in for that sort of thing you may as well do it nicely.” “In fact, if you are a rogue at all, you may as well be----” “A good rogue,” put in Colonel Dacre, laughing. “I don’t like your morality at all, Lawrence; it is much better to fail in a bad trade.” “Certainly; but, then, I did not know we were speaking morally. I was discussing the question from a worldly point of view. But go on with your reasons against our speedy marriage--there are still ninety eight to account for.” “I--I--think I am afraid of you, Lawrence,” answered Lady Gwendolyn, looking down. “Go on; that’s a reason with a reason, and, therefore, needs explaining.” “I can’t explain it. I know I oughtn’t to be; and that you are one of those men who may be trusted; that I shall still keep your affection even when my beauty is waning. Still, when I picture the long future that may be before us, I get frightened.”