“No; everybody had been charming, and shown me so much kindness and sympathy in my trouble.”
“What trouble? I do wish you would not try to mystify me, Pauline. You know I was never good at riddles. I suppose your pug is dead, or you have found your first gray hair——”
“Oh, Reggie! don’t talk like that; you make me feel dreadfully,” she interrupted. “I may have seemed frivolous when all things went well; but I assure you I can suffer with you, and for you now.”
He dropped her arm, and turned, and stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Would you rather I told you the truth, Reggie?”
“That is what I have been begging you to do for the last half-hour,” he answered impatiently. “But you seem to enjoy piling up the agony. I suppose the long and short of it is that Gwen is dangerously ill.”
“She was perfectly well three or four hours ago. No; it is not that sort of trouble. Reggie. Gwen has disgraced us cruelly.”
Lord Teignmouth started violently, and his face grew white to the lips.
“I will not believe it,” he said. “You never liked her, Pauline, and are exaggerating a small imprudence into a crime. I am sure she would be able to clear herself at once, if she knew of what she was accused.”