If this young lady was Miss Mehetabel’s only living relative, how came Miss Isabel Coolidge by those jewels? Could it be that the poor child had been reduced to the necessity of selling them? It did not yet occur to him that she was the poor, discarded governess of whom Adrian had told him.
But no, he could not believe that a Douglas would be guilty of parting with precious heirlooms for filthy lucre no matter how destitute she might become.
“You say the young lady is lately married,” he said, resuming his conversation with the lawyer, and determined to learn all he could.
“Yes, I think it is not more than two or three weeks since the event occurred.”
Lord Dunforth did start now, remembering that that was about the time of Adrian’s marriage. Still the truth did not enter his mind, as his next words proved.
“You say she was a governess previous. Whom did she marry? I trust she has not made a mésalliance; the Douglases are remarkably good stock. I used to know the family intimately,” he concluded, with a troubled brow.
“You are right; they were always a fine family. I do not think that the young lady has brought any disgrace upon it, however, for her husband appears to be a very fine man. His name is Dredmond—Adrian Dredmond.”
His lordship’s face turned ghastly pale at this, and he looked up at the loquacious lawyer in a dazed sort of way.
“You are surely ill, my lord!” Mr. Capel said, alarmed at his appearance, and pouring out a glass of wine, he brought it to him, thinking it strange, too, that the story should affect him so.
“Thank you; it is merely a sudden dizziness, it will pass soon,” he said, as he drank the wine; then, after he had regained his scattered senses somewhat, he arose, bade the lawyer good-morning, and departed.