When the last of the guests had driven away, I went back into the inner

hall and found Samuel at the side-table, presiding over the brandy

and soda-water. My lady and Miss Rachel came out of the drawing-room,

followed by the two gentlemen. Mr. Godfrey had some brandy and

soda-water, Mr. Franklin took nothing. He sat down, looking dead tired;

the talking on this birthday occasion had, I suppose, been too much for

him.

My lady, turning round to wish them good-night, looked hard at the

wicked Colonel's legacy shining in her daughter's dress.

"Rachel," she asked, "where are you going to put your Diamond to-night?"

Miss Rachel was in high good spirits, just in that humour for talking

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nonsense, and perversely persisting in it as if it was sense, which you

may sometimes have observed in young girls, when they are highly wrought

up, at the end of an exciting day. First, she declared she didn't know

where to put the Diamond. Then she said, "on her dressing-table, of

course, along with her other things." Then she remembered that the

Diamond might take to shining of itself, with its awful moony light

in the dark--and that would terrify her in the dead of night. Then she

bethought herself of an Indian cabinet which stood in her sitting-room;

and instantly made up her mind to put the Indian diamond in the Indian

cabinet, for the purpose of permitting two beautiful native productions

to admire each other. Having let her little flow of nonsense run on as

far as that point, her mother interposed and stopped her.

"My dear! your Indian cabinet has no lock to it," says my lady.

"Good Heavens, mamma!" cried Miss Rachel, "is this an hotel? Are there

thieves in the house?"

Without taking notice of this fantastic way of talking, my lady wished

the gentlemen good-night. She next turned to Miss Rachel, and kissed

her. "Why not let ME keep the Diamond for you to-night?" she asked.

Miss Rachel received that proposal as she might, ten years since, have

received a proposal to part her from a new doll. My lady saw there was

no reasoning with her that night. "Come into my room, Rachel, the first

thing to-morrow morning," she said. "I shall have something to say

to you." With those last words she left us slowly; thinking her own

thoughts, and, to all appearance, not best pleased with the way by which

they were leading her.

Miss Rachel was the next to say good-night. She shook hands first with

Mr. Godfrey, who was standing at the other end of the hall, looking at

a picture. Then she turned back to Mr. Franklin, still sitting weary and

silent in a corner.

What words passed between them I can't say. But standing near the old

oak frame which holds our large looking-glass, I saw her reflected in

it, slyly slipping the locket which Mr. Franklin had given to her, out

of the bosom of her dress, and showing it to him for a moment, with

a smile which certainly meant something out of the common, before she

tripped off to bed. This incident staggered me a little in the reliance

I had previously felt on my own judgment. I began to think that Penelope

might be right about the state of her young lady's affections, after

all.




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