The girl flushed. "Uncle Gabriel was never just to my father," she said in a low voice. "Oh, I know that papa has his faults, but his heart is in the right place. Papa has no idea of money: he is like a child; so Uncle Gabriel thought that if papa secured the diamonds he might squander their value." "What!" said I, significantly, "when they belonged to you?" She colored again. "I think papa believes what is mine is his. You see Uncle Gabriel died when I was about sixteen--five years ago--and he thought that if papa could lay hands on the jewels then that they would not come to me. He mistrusted papa." "And with very good reason," I murmured, too low for Gertrude to hear. Walter Monk, as I truly believed; would act exactly in the way his brother suspected he would. "What's that you say?" "Never mind. I understand that the diamonds were concealed so that your father might not be tempted. But surely your uncle intended them to come into your hands sooner or later." "Yes. The diary said that the jewels were hidden in a certain place." "What place?" I asked abruptly. "Ah, that was kept secret. But Uncle Gabriel talked about trusting Anne----" "Ah!" I said, rubbing my hands with satisfaction, "now we are coming to the gist of the matter. Any mention of the eye?" "No. You see, in the diary--it can hardly be called one--Uncle Gabriel only jotted down scraps of the scheme in his head. To make a long story short, I gathered that he had entrusted the secret of the whereabouts of the diamonds to Anne Caldershaw, as he had known her for years and esteemed her an honest woman." "I see; and she was not honest." "Don't you think so?" "No. Evidently she intended to tell Striver the secret, since she left him the glass eye in the will. He was to get the money, and then--I daresay--he could ask you to marry him." "Ridiculous," said Miss Monk, coloring. "Perhaps. Nevertheless I believe that such was the scheme of Mrs. Caldershaw, for she intended to enrich her nephew at your expense, hoping that you would marry him, and thus gain the benefit of what was rightfully your own. The idea of a marriage salved her conscience, as it were." "The idea is absurd. I would never marry a man like Joseph, although he is handsome and fairly well educated." "You know that he loves you." "Yes, I know," she replied, blushing, but in a somewhat cold tone. "Never mind: the thing--as I say--is absurd. But it might be as you say, Mr. Vance, that Anne had such a scheme in her head. However, you understand that I gathered from the so-called diary that she knew of the whereabouts of the jewels." "Yes. I know that. What did you do?" "I determined to go over and see Anne Caldershaw." "And did you?" "Yes." She looked at me nervously. "You were at Mootley then, when--when----" "No," she burst out fiercely. "Not though Aunt Julia swears I was." "Oh. You did not go to Mootley at all?"