“You know poor dear Reginald always does make blunders, Colonel Dacre. Gwen said something about letting us know shortly where she was to be found, but I think it was only a parting civility to which it would not do to attach much importance.”
“But what motive could she have for concealing her whereabouts?”
“I never profess to understand Gwen’s motives for anything, Colonel Dacre; nor do I, as a rule, interfere in her plans. The best thing that could happen to her would be to get a husband who would keep her in order, for what little authority Teignmouth might have as her guardian he never exercises, so that she is getting more and more lawless every day.”
“Lady Gwendolyn may consider that she is justified in pleasing herself so long as Lord Teignmouth does not remonstrate; he is the only person who has a right to take this tone with her as yet.”
“Oh! I never interfere, if that is what you mean,” responded her ladyship, smiling that sweet, stereotyped smile of hers which imposed upon so many. “I have no right, as you say.”
Colonel Dacre had not said exactly this, but he let it pass, and observed, after a pause:
“Then you cannot give me any idea where Lady Gwendolyn is to be found?”
“Not the faintest. But she may write in a day or two, and then I will let you know, if you like.”
“Thank you very much,” he said; and then he added, with assumed carelessness: “She was quite well, I hope, when she went away?”
“Perfectly,” answered Lady Teignmouth, opening her eyes very wide, as if she were surprised at the question.