Emmeline, wishing to avoid all conversation on the subject of her looks and health, conscious that both had suffered from her loss of happiness, hastily got up, declaring she was quite recovered; and, after bathing her eyes and temples with some cold water, she proposed returning to the drawing-room. “But are you quite sure you are well enough?” said Lady Saville—”had you not better lie down a little, for you still look pale.” Emmeline insisted on going. “Well, I understand your not liking to make a fuss and excite enquiries; for one’s friends will teaze one so with remedies: so if you are really able, come along, lean on me;” and she drew Emmeline’s arm within hers. When they entered the room, Fitzhenry went up to them: hoped Emmeline was quite recovered, and brought a chair for her; but all was done in cold civility, and no more passed. Mr. Pelham came immediately and sat by her, evidently and purposely entering into conversation to save her from being an object of attention to the rest. The dancing went on; but Emmeline’s spirits were gone, and she took no more part in what passed around her that evening. “What capital fun we have had!” said Selina, as they all left the drawing-room for the night. “I am sure I could dance all day long: could not you, Lady Fitzhenry? Don’t you like dancing of all things? I am sure you must, you dance so well.” Emmeline absently answered—”I _have_ liked it, but it is a taste that soon goes off.” “Soon, indeed!” said Mrs. Danvers, who had been playing the waltzes and quadrilles to them for the last hour, “if it is already gone with you: why you talk as if you were an old woman, Lady Fitzhenry. I don’t think it is many months since I saw you apparently enjoying the amusement as much as any one—indeed, not many minutes.” Emmeline, vexed at her forgetfulness, did not answer. She saw her husband’s eyes were fixed upon her; and, anxious to put an end to so disagreeable an evening, wishing them all good night, she hastened into her own room. When there, she found that the brooch—the precious brooch, was missing. She dared not tell her maid of her loss, for fear that any enquiry after it would lead to a discovery of her theft; but, as soon as she was gone, and all quiet in the house, Emmeline examined every part of her own room, of the gallery, and of the drawing-room; but all in vain. Tired and annoyed, she was at last obliged to give up the search, trusting that daylight would betray its hiding place. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER VI.