"Hum!" said Mr. Kenrick, dryly; "imprudent marriages are always incomprehensible, except to those that commit them."
Wilton looked up for a moment, with a flash of indignation in his quick, brown eyes, which, passing rapidly away, gave place to a good-humored smile.
"You are right," said he; "no outsiders can quite judge the force of our unreasoning reasons. You had better dine with us to-day, and let me present you to Mrs. Wilton."
"I imagine she expects you to present me to Lady St. George."
"You are mistaken. She is utterly indifferent to titles—more indifferent than I am; but you will dine with us?"
"I shall be most happy."
But they sought in vain; no trace existed of the viscount's erring daughter after the period of her disgraceful marriage. Of private correspondence very little remained, and it was decided to advertise for the information they wanted.
"Let us have some talk with Saunders," suggested Wilton; "he was so much with Lord St. George that he may be able to give us some clue to what we want."
The serious-looking valet was therefore summoned, and the lawyer shortly explained to him the state of affairs.