“After all that you have told me,” she said, “I shall indeed feel obliged if you will be present when I see Mrs. Rook.” The eager brightening of his eyes, the flush of happiness that made him look young on a sudden, were signs not to be mistaken. The sooner they were in the presence of a third person (Emily privately concluded) the better it might be for both of them. She led the way rapidly to the house. CHAPTER IX. MRS. ROOK AND THE LOCKET. As mistress of a prosperous school, bearing a widely-extended reputation, Miss Ladd prided herself on the liberality of her household arrangements. At breakfast and dinner, not only the solid comforts but the elegant luxuries of the table, were set before the young ladies “Other schools may, and no doubt do, offer to pupils the affectionate care to which they have been accustomed under the parents’ roof,” Miss Ladd used to say. “At my school, that care extends to their meals, and provides them with a _cuisine_ which, I flatter myself, equals the most successful efforts of the cooks at home.” Fathers, mothers, and friends, when they paid visits to this excellent lady, brought away with them the most gratifying recollections of her hospitality. The men, in particular, seldom failed to recognize in their hostess the rarest virtue that a single lady can possess--the virtue of putting wine on the table which may be gratefully remembered by her guests the next morning. An agreeable surprise awaited Mrs. Rook when she entered the house of bountiful Miss Ladd. Luncheon was ready for Sir Jervis Redwood’s confidential emissary in the waiting-room. Detained at the final rehearsals of music and recitation, Miss Ladd was worthily represented by cold chicken and ham, a fruit tart, and a pint decanter of generous sherry. “Your mistress is a perfect lady!” Mrs. Rook said to the servant, with a burst of enthusiasm. “I can carve for myself, thank you; and I don’t care how long Miss Emily keeps me waiting.” As they ascended the steps leading into the house, Alban asked Emily if he might look again at her locket. “Shall I open it for you?” she suggested. “No: I only want to look at the outside of it.” He examined the side on which the monogram appeared, inlaid with diamonds. An inscription was engraved beneath. “May I read it?” he said. “Certainly!” The inscription ran thus: “In loving memory of my father. Died 30th September, 1877.” “Can you arrange the locket,” Alban asked, “so that the side on which the diamonds appear hangs outward?” She understood him. The diamonds might attract Mrs. Rook’s notice; and in that case, she might ask to see the locket of her own accord. “You are beginning to be of use to me, already,” Emily said, as they turned into the corridor which led to the waiting-room. They found Sir Jervis’s housekeeper luxuriously recumbent in the easiest chair in the room.