He shook hands with her and then with his uncle in his usual pleasant fashion, but had scarcely begun his breakfast when Mrs. Temple commenced talking about the actress' diamonds. "There is such a strange case in the papers this morning," she said, addressing John Temple; "an actress, Kathleen Weir, has had her diamonds stolen in a most extraordinary manner." John Temple was in the act of helping himself to some toast from the toast-rack as Mrs. Temple made the remark, and for a moment his hand remained suspended, and a dusky wave of color rose to his face. "Do you know her?" asked Mrs. Temple, quickly, instantly noticing these signs of agitation. "No," answered John Temple, a little huskily, and then he took the toast, but left it untasted on his plate. "Have they recovered the diamonds then?" asked the squire. "No, I suppose not; her maid had taken them and substituted false ones in the same settings. But here is the account; you had better read it." And Mrs. Temple handed the newspaper to her husband. John Temple said nothing; he began slowly eating his breakfast, but apparently without appetite, and then he opened another newspaper and turned to the column containing the trial of Margaret Johnstone for diamond stealing. "So," he said, a little scornfully, after he had read it, "this young lady, Miss Kathleen Weir, seemingly was tired of some of her diamonds, and wished to dispose of them?" "Perhaps she was tired of the man who gave them to her?" replied Mrs. Temple. "Very likely," said John, with a little shrug of his shoulders; "of the poor fool who perhaps impoverished himself to give her gauds." "And then perhaps also tired of her?" retorted Mrs. Temple. Again John Temple shrugged his shoulders and sat somewhat moodily glancing over the newspapers, while his uncle's wife followed his movements with her handsome dark eyes. He interested her, this good-looking man who had taken her dead boy's place, and having him at Woodlea made the house seem less dull. She had a strong craving for excitement, and to her anything was better than the wearisome company of her old husband. And she could not understand John Temple. He was always gentle and friendly in his manner to her, but he was never confidential. And this annoyed her. Unconsciously almost to herself she was beginning to regard him with warmer feelings than she would have cared to own. At all events she was jealous of him, and half-believed that for his sake May Churchill had left her home. So when breakfast was over, and the squire after his usual fashion had retired to his library, Mrs. Temple went up to John, who was still reading the newspapers, and lightly touched his shoulder. "If the truth were known, sir," she said, smiling, "I believe you could tell us something about Miss Kathleen Weir's diamonds." Again a flush rose to John Temple's face, but this time it was an angry one. "What makes you say such a thing?" he answered quickly.