 name was Harleth, and she was with the Baron and
Baroness von Langen. I saw by the list that Miss Harleth was no longer there.«
    This held no further information for Lush than that Gwendolen had been
gambling. He had already looked at the list, and ascertained that Gwendolen had
gone, but he had no intention of thrusting this knowledge on Grandcourt before
he asked for it; and he had not asked, finding it enough to believe that the
object of search would turn up somewhere or other.
    But now Grandcourt had heard what was rather piquant, and not a word about
Miss Harleth had been missed by him. After a moment's pause he said to Deronda -
    »Do you know those people - the Langens?«
    »I have talked with them a little since Miss Harleth went away. I knew
nothing of them before.«
    »Where is she gone - do you know?«
    »She is gone home,« said Deronda, coldly, as if he wished to say no more.
But then, from a fresh impulse, he turned to look markedly at Grandcourt, and
added, »But it is possible you know her. Her home is not far from Diplow:
Offendene, near Wanchester.«
    Deronda, turning to look straight at Grandcourt who was on his left hand,
might have been a subject for those old painters who liked contrasts of
temperament. There was a calm intensity of life and richness of tint in his face
that on a sudden gaze from him was rather startling, and often made him seem to
have spoken, so that servants and officials asked him automatically, »What did
you say, sir?« when he had been quite silent. Grandcourt himself felt an
irritation, which he did not show except by a slight movement of the eyelids, at
Deronda's turning round on him when he was not asked to do more than speak. But
he answered, with his usual drawl, »Yes, I know her,« and paused with his
shoulder towards Deronda, to look at the gambling.
    »What of her, eh?« asked Sir Hugo of Lush, as the three moved on a little
way. »She must be a new-comer at Offendene. Old Blenny lived there after the
dowager died.«
    »A little too much of her,« said Lush, in a low, significant tone; not sorry
to let Sir Hugo know the state of affairs.
    »Why? how?« said the baronet. They all moved out of the salon into a more
airy promenade.
    »He has been
