Lady Teignmouth shook her head.
“Lady Gwendolyn denied it, of course; she was almost justified in trying to save her reputation by a falsehood, it seems to me.”
“There should have been no need for the falsehood,” responded Lord Teignmouth sternly.
“Yes, but if we all did exactly what was right, dear, what a delightful world this would be,” said the countess, with the sweetest indulgence. “I always feel myself that having so many failings of my own I ought to make allowances for others. Gwen is but young yet, and was led away. I have heard of Mr. Belmont as a man of extraordinary fascination.”
“What, then? Gwendolyn was not a raw schoolgirl, to be subjugated by the first handsome mustache she saw.”
“Oh, no; but, no doubt, poor darling, she became attached to Mr. Belmont. Indeed, I have felt sure for the last year that she had something on her mind, and I have tried to persuade her to confide in me, but she always repelled me. I wish she had, now, for, as a sensible girl, she would have given up Mr. Belmont at once if she had known how thoroughly worthless he was.”
“I don’t see any sign of her sense in this miserable business,” replied Lord Teignmouth, who looked harassed and dejected. “But we had better get on, Pauline; there are your things to pack, and I know of old what a long process that is.”
“Everything is packed,” replied his wife. “I felt sure you would take me away, and so I made my preparations accordingly. And, do you know, if we miss the eight-o’clock train it will be impossible for us to get away to-night?”
“Then we will stay at an inn, Pauline. I am determined you shall not be exposed to any unpleasant remarks at Lady Lenox’s. Moreover, I want to get to the other side of the Channel as quickly as possible, and hide my diminished head.”
“Look here, Reggie, dear,” she said, as if the idea had only just occurred to her; “supposing you write to Gwendolyn.”