“Thank you, Mr. Arnold; I am not at all dull. With my kind friend, Mrs. Elton, and—” She would have said Margaret, but became instinctively aware that the mention of her would make Mr. Arnold open his eyes, for he did not even know her name; and that he would stare yet wider when he learned that the valued companion referred to was Mrs. Elton’s maid. Mr. Arnold left the room, and presently returned with his arms filled with all the drawing-room books he could find, with grand bindings outside, and equally grand plates inside. These he heaped on the table beside Lady Emily, who tried to look interested, but scarcely succeeded to Mr. Arnold’s satisfaction, for he presently said: “You don’t seem to care much about these, dear Lady Emily. I daresay you have looked at them all already, in this dull house of ours.” This was a wonderful admission from Mr. Arnold. He pondered—then exclaimed, as if he had just made a grand discovery: “I have it! I know something that will interest you.” “Do not trouble yourself, pray, Mr. Arnold,” said Lady Emily. But he was already half way to the door. He went to his own room, and his own strong closet therein. Returning towards the invalid’s quarters with an ebony box of considerable size, he found it rather heavy, and meeting Euphra by the way, requested her to take one of the silver handles, and help him to carry it to Lady Emily’s room. She started when she saw it, but merely said: “With pleasure, uncle.” “Now, Lady Emily,” said he, as, setting down the box, he took out a curious antique enamelled key, “we shall be able to amuse you for a little while.” He opened the box, and displayed such a glitter and show as would have delighted the eyes of any lady. All kinds of strange ornaments; ancient watches—one of them a death’s head in gold; cameo necklaces; pearls abundant; diamonds, rubies, and all the colours of precious stones—every one of them having some history, whether known to the owner or not; gems that had flashed on many a fair finger and many a shining neck—lay before Lady Emily’s delighted eyes. But Euphrasia’s eyes shone, as she gazed on them, with a very different expression from that which sparkled in Lady Emily’s. They seemed to search them with fingers of lightning. Mr. Arnold chose two or three, and gave Lady Emily her choice of them. “I could not think of depriving you.” “They are of no use to me,” said Mr. Arnold, making light of the handsome offer. “You are too kind.—I should like this ring.” “Take it then, dear Lady Emily.”