Durban shrugged his stout shoulders and turned away, while Beatrice looked at her mother steadily. Lady Watson was arrayed in a very fashionable dinner-gown worn very low, and her complexion was coloured to match. Her jewels were many and rich, and conspicuous amongst them was the diamond necklace which they had come to take away. She really looked very well in the rose-hued light of the drawing-room, and wonderfully pretty. No one would have thought that she was the mother of this noble, sad girl arrayed in deep black. "Ten minutes," said Lady Watson, consulting a tiny jewelled watch. "But you can come to-morrow, darling." "I am going down to Hurstable to-morrow," said her daughter coldly--"to The Camp." "The horrid place!" said Lady Watson, fastening her glove. "I shall sell it, I think." "No," said Durban, coming close to her; "you will give it to Miss Beatrice along with the money she inherits from her father." "She inherits nothing." "Yes, she does. The money of my dead master was left to you for her use. She was supposed to be dead----" "That was your fault," burst out Lady Watson savagely. "And you used the money," went on Durban, as though he had not heard her speak; "but Mr. Alpenny's legacy will provide funds for you to restore the money. There is sufficient to give Miss Beatrice two thousand a year." "I won't give her a penny!" said the little woman, setting her teeth and looking extremely ugly. "I want all my money to myself." "You must return this money," said Durban coldly; "and also, this very moment, you must give back the diamond necklace." Lady Watson placed her gloved hand on the jewel which flashed on her neck. "This?" she gasped. "Never! it is mine. It was bought for me." "Quite so, madam," said Durban; "but when the Colonel found that you were flirting with Major Ruck, he determined to keep it for his child. By the will--of which I have a copy--Miss Beatrice inherits that necklace." "Child!" said Lady Watson tragically, "will you see your mother robbed by this--this--this low nigger?" "If the necklace is mine, I intend to have it," said Beatrice coldly; "it is my intention to make some use of it, otherwise I would leave it to you. I want to have nothing to do with you, Lady Watson." Lady Watson dashed the fan she held on the table, and broke it to pieces. "I am your mother!" "No," said Beatrice steadily, "you never loved me, or you would not have given me into the care of strangers." "He made me--he made me," and she pointed to Durban. "For the sake of my dead master," said Durban calmly. "Come now, madam, you must give up the necklace. I will see your lawyer to-morrow about the transfer of Miss Beatrice's money to herself." "I refuse--I refuse!" "Take care," said Durban fiercely, and again coming close to her. "I can make Mrs. Snow tell what she saw on that night." "I have told all that to my child," quivered Lady Watson, crying with fear. "But not to the police."