“The worst of it is, my wife has played a part all along. You remember that Belmont affair?”
“Quite well,” answered Sir Lawrence, who thought he knew what was coming.
“Well, she was to blame there, and not poor Gwen, after all, it seems. Belmont had been her lover before even she married me, and she corresponded with and met him secretly. If he had been as rich as the Russian prince, she would probably have sympathized with him to the same extent; but his poverty stood in the way of his preferment,” added the earl, with, a bitter laugh. “I am sorry she fooled me so completely; but Gwen is a generous soul, and knows how helpless men are in the hands of artful, designing women, so that, perhaps, she will forgive me, if you ask her. Tell her Pauline has done her one good turn, anyhow—she has made her boy my heir presumptive to the earldom of Teignmouth.”
“But surely you will get a divorce and marry again?”
“I shall get a divorce, probably; but I shall never marry again. ‘Once bit, twice shy,’ you know.”
“Do you mind telling me who enlightened you about that affair of Belmont’s?”
“Not at all; it was the princess—Mrs. O’Hara that was. She naturally felt indignant when she missed her spouse in the morning, too, and found out that my wife had wronged her doubly by running off with her husband. I don’t really think human nature could bear this tamely; and she came to me at once with her brother’s last letter, and also several written to him by Lady Teignmouth.”
“Poor Norah! Was she much troubled?”
“She was more angry than hurt, I really believe; and seemed comforted by the thought that she was well provided for, pecuniarily speaking. I fancy she had caught a Tartar, and was not sorry, on the whole, to be rid of him.”
“If that is the case, he will avenge your wrongs.”