“I would rather tell her my mind.”
“Nonsense!” she answered coaxingly; “it would be so much better to do as I say. You are both quick-tempered, and will make a scene between you, and, surely, there will be nothing gained by that. Come, Reggie, do listen to reason. It would distress you, I am sure, to accuse Gwendolyn to her face, and yet, of course, she must know the truth. Write her a decided letter, and as you will be leaving England at once, she will not be able to answer it, and then you will be spared all annoyance.”
“I would rather see her,” persisted Lord Teignmouth.
“What could you say to her if you did? She is perfectly independent, and has a right to meet twenty men in Turoy wood, if she likes.”
“And kill them afterward, I suppose?”
“Oh! do hush, Reggie; it is dreadfully imprudent to talk in this way out of doors, where you might be overheard.”
“What does that matter? Do you suppose we shall be able to hide our troubles from the world?”
“Impossible, of course; but it is no use precipitating matters. We shall have a few hours’ start of scandal if we keep quiet, and I do want to be the other side of the Channel when the morning papers begin to circulate.”
“It will be of no use, Pauline,” he answered, more gently than he had yet spoken to her. “Wherever we go they will follow and dodge us, and we shall be sure to meet heaps of people who will think it kind to condole with us. I am afraid I shall behave like a bear if they do.”
“Then let us return to Teignmouth, dear.”