"Not at all, my lady," said Mr. Boyd, opening the papers, which contained jewels of various kinds, bracelets, necklaces, ear-rings, brooches, and other gewgaws. Many of the precious stones were in old settings, and he saw at a glance that they were worth considerably more than the thousand pounds which this reckless lady of fashion wished to raise upon them. Among them were two ornaments of conspicuous beauty--a pearl necklace, and a device for the hair in the shape of a peacock's tail. "I am reposing a great confidence in you," said Lady Wharton. "The pearl necklace and the peacock's tail were presents from my father--they cost a great price, I believe--and I would not part with them for any consideration. In a few months I shall--shall--what is the word for it? Oh, yes, redeem them." "You don't want the thousand pounds immediately, my lady?" said Mr. Boyd. "My good man, I want it now, this minute." "Impossible, my lady. I could not get it together in less than five or six days. If that will suit you----" Lady Wharton beat an impatient tattoo on the table with the tips of her fingers. "Are you sure you could not get it earlier?" "Quite sure, my lady." "It _must_ suit me, then, but it is really very provoking. Lord Wharton is ordered into the country, and we are going to-morrow." "I can send you a cheque through the post." "I should prefer to receive it personally from you, and in bank notes. You can bring it to me in the country, I suppose?" "There will be no difficulty, my lady. To what part of the country?" "We are going to our place in Bournemouth, The Gables. We give a ball there every year on the 7th of March. Of course I may rely upon having the money before that date." "Pardon me a moment, my lady," said Mr. Boyd, pretending to make certain calculations on paper, and presently adding, "I can't positively promise, but you shall be sure to have it _on_ that date." "Oh, very well, very well," said Lady Wharton, "I see that I am expected to agree to everything. And now, Mr. Boyd, our business is over, I think. Bless my soul, how dismally the wind sounds in this house! If I don't get out of it quickly John will think I've been spirited away. Don't trouble to come down; one of your servants can see me to the door." "I keep no servants, my lady," he replied. "A charwoman comes when I send for her. That is my life." "Do you mean to tell me that you live here quite alone?" "Quite alone, my lady, quite alone, and safer and more secure than if my house was full of servants." "Mr. Boyd," said Lady Wharton, tapping him lightly on the arm, "you should marry." "What did your ladyship say yourself about women when you entered the house," he answered slyly. She laughed heartily at this retort, and following him down the stairs as he led the way with a light, bade him good night at the street door. "John," she said to her confidential man as he conducted her to her carriage, "the house is like a grave."