He stared at her blankly, and answered in a confused sort of way:
“I am afraid it is no use telegraphing, for I have no idea where to find her.”
“Where to find whom?”
“Lady Gwendolyn St. Maur.”
“She wasn’t in our train, surely?”
“I didn’t know she was, certainly; but I caught a glimpse of her face as it moved off.”
“But wasn’t it odd she did not speak to you, Lawrence? I fancied you were near neighbors at Borton, and very intimate.”
“Exactly,” he replied, in a vague way. “I saw Lady Gwendolyn this morning; but she did not tell me she was leaving Turoy.”
“Perhaps it was a sudden caprice,” replied Mrs. O’Hara carelessly. “But do you intend to stay in Preston to-night, Lawrence?”
“No; I am going on, I think; but, really, I have decided nothing yet. I had better see about your cab, had I not? You are going to a hotel, I presume?”