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 Winchester."

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 toward 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 an
airy promenade.

"He has been on the brink of marrying her," Lush went on. "But I hope
it's off now. She's a niece of the clergyman--Gascoigne--at Pennicote.
Her mother is a widow with a brood of daughters. This girl will have
nothing, and is as dangerous as gunpowder. It would be a foolish
marriage. But she has taken a freak against him, for she ran off here
without notice, when he had agreed to call the next day. The fact is,
he's here after her; but he was in no great hurry, and between his
caprice and hers they are likely enough not to get together again. But
of course he has lost his chance with the heiress."

Grandcourt joining them said, "