“Well, we must wonder with the rest what has become of her. I am confident no one saw her come in here, and so no one will suspect us in the matter. I tell you, Isabel, we have a desperate game to play now, or you will lose Sir Charles. Those jewels we must have, for their absence will occasion endless inquiry and remark. If she won’t yield, we must keep her shut up until after the wedding. When that is over, and you are sure of your position, I do not care what becomes of them or her,” the proud woman whispered, in concentrated tones, and with a desperate and reckless air that almost frightened her daughter. “Mamma, would you dare keep her in there so long?” “Yes, I will dare anything, rather than that all your bright prospects should be sacrificed. Just so sure as we let her out, she will reveal everything, and we shall be ruined.” “But you know we are all to go to Paris next week to be gone a fortnight, and attend to my _trousseau_.” “I know it was so arranged, but you and Lady Randal will have to go—I shall be ill, and not able to go; then I can easily look after our prisoner, and no one will be the wiser for it.” “But is there no danger that she will be heard if she should scream, or cry, or make a fuss?” “Not the least in the world. The place seems to be made of solid masonry; it has no other door but this, which is very thick, and, with those heavy curtains dropped over it, no one could ever hear her. Besides, I have no fear that she will make any disturbance—she is too proud.” “What if she should die in there, mamma?” The two plotting women looked at each other with whitening faces for a moment. Mrs. Coolidge was the first to recover herself, however. “Pshaw! what a foolish notion, Isabel. She is strong and well, and there is no danger. I will take her plenty of good food every day, and we can make her up a comfortable bed from our own, and she will do well enough.” “But mamma, the bare possibility of the thing gives me a dreadful feeling. I am as weak as if I had just recovered from a swoon,” said Isabel, shuddering. “Don’t be a fool, child; only let us tide the next four or five weeks over, and we shall be all right. However, if you say so, and are willing to run the risk, we will let her out now,” returned Mrs. Coolidge, impatiently. “No, no; there is no other way as I see but to keep her shut up. Sir Charles is so particular and conscientious that he would never forgive the wrong we have done her; and, mamma, I am really very fond of him. I believe it would upset me entirely if anything should happen to separate us now, and I mean to try and be a better woman after I am married,” Isabel returned, nervously, and with very crimson cheeks, as if ashamed of the confession.